Classic Poem

Seven months are now passed that in Hind and Khurrasan
Rain has fallen nowhere, either on mountain or on plain;
Great has been the failing both of water and of the crops,
Very high have been the prices everywhere of grain.
When we were in despair, then at length the rain-clouds gathered;
Opened were Heaven's gates at the change from the Constellation of the Crab.
Blest the twenty-ninth day of the month Asad above all others,
Then the rain covered the world with fresh green shoots.
In the year that Shah Âlam came from Hind,
There was peace between the Mogul and the Afghan.
This present year, whose date is one thousand and eighty-eight,
Blessed for all mankind is this year.
One great trouble indeed it has brought with it,
That great mortality was there of children from small-pox:
Many were the children that died amongst my tribe;
But the death that touched me most was of Abdulla, son of Yahia Khan.
What though Rani's heart is breaking for Neknam,
In Hako it rejoices and in Kamran.