Allah, my sleep is woven through, it seems, With burning threads of night and golden beams; But when my dreams are evil they come true; When they are not, they are, alas! but dreams.
LXXXVI
91
Allah, my sleep is woven through, it seems, With burning threads of night and golden beams; But when my dreams are evil they come true; When they are not, they are, alas! but dreams.