واعمر بقصر الملك ناديك الذي

And populate your gathering place with the royal palace, which has come to have its very home inhabited through your glory.

A palace that, had you anointed a blind man's eyes with its light, would have restored his sight completely.

Its breeze is distilled from the very essence of life, so that it almost awakens the dead bones to resurrection.

By its mere mention, the morning star and the lovely maiden are forgotten, as it rises to surpass Khawarnaq and Saddir.

And if its beauty were matched against all colors combined, nothing else would ever be worth mentioning.

Its craftsmanship baffled even the ancient Persians, who once raised great buildings and perfected structural design.

Ages passed over the Byzantines, yet they never built for their monarchs anything resembling or matching it.

You reminded us of Paradise when you showed us its lofty chambers and magnificent towering structures.

The righteous increased their good deeds on earth, hoping thereby to win gardens and garments of silk.

While the sinners were guided to the straight path, and their good deeds atoned completely for their transgressions.

It is a celestial sphere among spheres, save that it humiliates the full moons by bringing forth the victorious one.

I beheld it and saw the most wondrous sight, then turned my gaze away completely exhausted.

I thought I was dreaming inside Paradise when I saw the king seated grandly within it.

Behold the slave girls who opened its doors, making them creak in a welcoming song for those in need.

Fierce lions clamp down upon the door rings, baring their wide-open mouths in unyielding rigidity.

As though they crouched in wait to crush right there anyone who entered without royal permission.

Thoughts gallop freely across its grounds with loosened reins, only to stumble and fall short of its utmost reach.

With paved marble floors that make you think the ground is scattered with white gazelles and draped in camphor.

And inlaid with pearls, making you imagine its soil is musk diffusing its scent and fragrance.

When one morning ends, it leaves behind another glowing dawn to pierce the dark shroud of night.

And fierce lions inhabit this royal lair, turning the gentle trickling murmur of water into a roaring sound.

As though pure gold had coated their bodies, melting crystal ice directly inside their open mouths.

Lions whose very stillness feels full of motion within the soul, if only something stirred them to action there.

And remembering their violent attacks, they appear to crouch back upon their hindquarters to spring forward.

As the sun illuminates their coloring, you would take them for fire and their licking tongues for light.

It is as though swords of running streams were unsheathed, melted without fire to become a still pool.

And as though the breeze wove a coat of mail for its water, calculating the weaving with exact precision.

Filled with wondrous fruits, my eyes cross toward it like a sea of marvels brimming over.

Arboreal and golden, they cast upon me a magic that exerts a deep influence over human reason.

It has curved its branches so that it seems to have snared birds right out of open space.

And as though it forbids any real bird that lands there from ever lifting its wings to fly away.

From every single fabricated branch you see a beak pouring water pure and sweet as liquid silver.

Mute objects counted among the eloquent, except that instead of singing, they whistle melodiously with water.

And as though upon every bough rests softened silver, drawn out into a long trailing thread.

And it shows you in the fountain basin where its droplets fall upon the emerald like scattered pearls.

Its lovely features smile at you as though the shining stars of heaven were made its very teeth.

With doors plated in pure gold, exquisitely balanced with engraved patterns and intricate designs.

The golden nails stand out upon the surface like the budding chests of lovely young maidens.

The sun casts over it a radiant mantle of light, turning back the dazzled gaze completely exhausted.

And when you look at the marvels of its ceiling, you behold a vibrant garden blooming in the sky.

You marvel at its golden swallows that hovered close only to build their nests within its heights.

The master craftsmen laid down their brushes there, having portrayed every conceivable hunted beast for you.

And as though the sun left a pool of wet pigment there, with which they smeared the ornamental foliage and trees.

And as though lapis lazuli were a pierced pen, tracing delicate lines across the pages of the sky.

And as though they embroidered a cloak over it, leaving the exact spot of the waist-sash untouched.

O ruler of the earth, for whom the King of heaven has made the sovereign a helper against his foes!

How many royal palaces came before yours, only to find themselves forced to take second place behind it!

You have populated them, won every seat of power within them, and utterly destroyed your enemies with devastation.