From Istambol's throne a mighty host to Iran guided I; Sunken deep in blood of shame I made the Golden Heads to lie. Glad the Slave, my resolution, lord of Egypt's realm became: Thus I raised my royal banner e'en as the Nine Heavens high. From the kingdom fair of 'Iraq to Hijaz these tidings sped, When I played the harp of Heavenly Aid at feast of victory. Through my saber Transoxania drowned was in a sea of blood; Emptied I of kuhl of Isfahan the adversary's eye. Flowed adown a River Amu from each foeman's every hair— Rolled the sweat of terror's fever—if I happed him to espy. Bishop-mated was the King of India by my Queenly troops, When I played the Chess of empire on the Board of sov'reignty. O Selimi, in thy name was struck the coinage of the world, When in crucible of Love Divine, like gold, that melted I. —_Sultan Selim I._ (1512-1520). GAZEL My pain for thee balm in my sight resembles; Thy face's beam the clear moonlight resembles. Thy black hair spread across thy cheeks, the roses, O Liege, the garden's basil quite resembles. Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud; For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles. Thy mouth, a casket fair of pearls and rubies, Thy teeth, pearls, thy lip coral bright resembles. Their diver I, each morning and each even; My weeping, Liege, the ocean's might resembles. Lest he seduce thee, this my dread and terror, That rival who Iblis in spite resembles. Around the taper bright, thy cheek, Muhibbi Turns, and the moth in his sad plight resembles. —_Sultan Soleiman, the Magnificent_ (1520-1566). GAZEL If 'tis state thou seekest like the world-adorning sun's array, Lowly e'en as water rub thy face in earth's dust every day. Fair to see, but short enduring is this picture bright, the world; 'Tis a proverb: Fleeting like the realm of dreams is earth's display. Through the needle of its eyelash never hath the heart's thread past; Like unto the Lord Messiah bide I half-road on the way. Athlete of the Universe through self-reliance grows the Heart, With the ball, the Sphere—Time, Fortune—like an apple doth it play. Mukhlisi, thy frame was formed from but one drop, yet, wonder great! When thou verses sing'st, thy spirit like the ocean swells, they say. —_Prince Mustafa._ GAZEL