Farewell, Ramadan. Our time is now past,
No longer must we endure your blessing,
The opportunities, the constant fast,
All that is done, life now not so pressing.
Now our belts can be loosened, our hours
Spent a little more in sleep, less in prayer,
Less in mock-piety, less beneath the Powers
Of the Throne, of the Earth, the Sea, the Air.
But when all is packed and it’s time to leave
The cubic House, still you turn one last time
To sigh — despite past hardships — sigh and grieve
And understand what pilgrims say in rhyme:
The trial complete, joyful is today’s song
Yet tonight we’ll think of days that are gone.