Lincoln High School - Quill Yearbook (Jersey City, NJ)

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And looked upon this youth, it shrank with fear And drew away unto the western sea. The vulture, flying through the empty sky, In journey made its halt, about to pounce Upon its prey: but in amazement stared Into the poet's blazing eyes entranced- Those eyes undaunted e'en by desert's glare- And thus in terror fluttered fast away. Slow sank the sun into the golden sea And in its trail did leave the fulgent sky. And meanwhile at the feasting camp, amid The dancing and the playing of guitars, Uprose the sheik Mithgal and spake them thus, Where is the poet of this mighty tribe? Perhaps secluded he does meditate. Go forth, O noble Ahmed, 'pon they steed, Go forth and seek upon the desert plains The poet of the tribe of Beni-Sakr, That he may come and in immortal verse Extol the exploits of this famous day. And now the earth by sable night enveiled, Sharp winds begin to blow above the sands. And Ahmed by the icy air benumbed The warmth and comfort of the camp desired, And so abandoned he the useless search And turned again toward scenes of revelry. The poet still in thought remained unmoved, Unmind-ful of the raging elements, And motionless he sat defying all, just as the Sphinx in Egypt's desert sits And coldly looks into measured space, To combat calling Time and Universe. Through whirling sands did strike his pallid face. He did not move. The icy wind in vain Did try to kill the raging fire within. Up toward the starry heavens gazed his eyes, Viewed he the sparkling orbs? He looked beyond Into the dark abyss of nothingness That separates the starry worlds . . . 108

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And thus enriched toward home they turn to feast And o'er their prize and victory exult. Now nearing camp upon their noble steeds, These tribesmen bold are met with loud acclaim. And in dismounting they the air confuse With dust and rousing cheers and clam'rous cries. And in the tumult all dash here and there In hurried effort to display with pride The spoils of victory. Far from the stir and bustle of the camp, Far from distraction and disturbance harsh, With bowed head in pensive mood he sat Upon a far off desert rock, alone, The Poet of the tribe of Beni-Sakr. That morning long before the star of day Dispersed the stars of night upon their way, Up from his sandy bed so cold he rose And in the distance left the slumb'ring tents. For in the night some dead'ning force unknown Had o'er his body crept and seized his limbs. And now his heart did burn and yearn to write The mighty epic of the world and man. His back was to the fiery eastern hillsg He did not see the sun in splendor rise, Nor did he feel the icy chill of night Turn warm beneath Aurora'a piercing beams. He did not see the dewy-covered stones With sorrow yield to Heaven, Heaven's dew. He'd wandered far beyond all earthly boundsg Through unexplored lands he longed to stroll, To tread the labyrinth of realms unknown, To tread where mortal had not trod before. All earth and all its joys in vain did tug, Did tug upon his snow-white cotton robe. But what can all the strength of world avail Against the gentle pull of the Eterne? He did not see his shadow smaller grow, As through the azure vault the sun did roll, He did not feel the burning heat withoutg He did not feel his burning heart within. And as the sun approached above his head 107

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O youthful poet, whither coursed thy thoughts? Didst ponder o'er the earth and man and God? Or man his faults and sins and darkened life Through which in misery he blindly gropes? The jealous hate-torn world and all its vice? Or on the utter hopelessness of life? The joys of life, delusions are they all Or drugs that cloud the mind and blunt the sense To stern reality? Or didst thou wonder whence the Cosmos came And seek the secret of Almighty God? Or God's existence even challenged thou? Perhaps didst think about the soul of men, Of life when it has flowed into the sea? O youth, thine eyes are sad, yet they reflect That thou hast penetrated far beyond The veil that parts this from another world. Thine arms to I-Ieav'n are raised, the only stir Since thou beganst thy fatal vigil long. O youth, thy soul is fleeting through the airg Thy body trembling pleads for its return! Into the night thy soul hath disappeared, Upon the earth in sorrow waits thy fleshg For dead, O noble poet, thou art dead! Ah youth, the favored one whose lot it was To see the Great Unseen, to learn the Unknown! But We, to whom thou never canst return To sing in epic great of what thou sawst, Must through the darkness make our way untold. Fore'er our hearts will seek but ne'er will find What thou, O poet, in thy vigil found. And thus in ignorance we come and go, Our wretched spirits ne'er to find repose. Next morning tribesmen riding toward the north Upon a desert rock their poet saw. His arms were raised to I-Ieav'n in supplianceg His face was calmg his eyes appeared to seeg But lifeless was his frame, so cold and still. In sorrow they his body laid away Beneath Arabia's ever-shifting dunes. Onver Mabadeen. 1 09