Ride to the distant villages and fairs

Ride to the distant villages and fairs
Ride them waves or wing the airs
Ascend the mounts or descend the stairs

Oh, go yea my men! To the banks of Nile
Search amid ripened empire’s pile
Search by the Euphrates for a man of style

stands out above the milling throng
speaks the tongues of millions strong
who’s soul is pure, has done no wrong

knows his Quran and The Holy Scripts
carefree to the tide of floes and drifts
quickly through logic his mind sifts

must be a master of counting games
well versed in stars and their names
the physical laws his wit tames

sane sagacious and balanced of keel
soft at heart but a man of steel
the worldly riches flow by his heel

Shariah his shroud and the Fiqa too
bold and chivalrous at the art of slew
his voice to the ears melodious dew

hold against push and lecher’s pull
to preach and act Islam in its full
command great domes of our Istanbul

go ye by steed, by leap or bound!
such is the man, I decree be found!
such a man, so we hold our ground!”