Beaten

Who tore out their tongues, they cannot speak,

These mutilates that hammer in my head

So I stand stunned by all their clangour

And cannot tell the terror of my dreaming.

Why do they mine the caverns of my skull

Down to the bruising bone,

No treasure-trove can they discover –

Only the dust and dross of my despair.

Whatever did I thieve from Heaven

That these vultures thus torment me

Whichever Islam did I slander

Could sanctify such hard revenge.

How is my heart so torn like fabric

Like a flag made mad by wind

So I stagger like a man demented

And feel the earth beneath me shudder.

Will they never cease their plunders

Down their picks and heavy sledges

And leave me to the bite of silence.

Ease will not come, nor peace, nor sleep;

They tunnel in my brain for ever

And make a devastation of my soul.