State of the Art - p. 26An eternal love poem in marble
You knew, Emperor of India, Shah Jahan,
That life, youth, wealth and honour
All float away down the stream of time.
Your only dream
Was to preserve forever your heart's pain.
The harsh thunder of imperial power
Would fade into sleep
Like a sunset's crimson splendour,
But it was your hope
That at least a single, eternally-heaved sigh would stay
To grieve the sky.