The old gods all dead now they lie scattered
in the ruins like statues headless and chipped
deaf and dumb the gongs and drums and thrum
of prayer dissipated like incense from
the censer of time. Now as the sun seeps
down the once proud and immutable Roman
eagle fades into night, the hill burnished
with colours enriched, then dun washed to dusk.
Now the confluence of calls to prayer echoes
and flows within valley walls from near and far
Allahu Akbar Allahu Akbar,
God is Great! Proclaim Allahu Akbar.
Hayya 'ala-s-Salah. Hurry to
the prayer! Will the new Gods die in time like
the old gods? Pray harder pray harder!
Pray louder! Wake them in their careless sleep!