Abu al-ʿAbbas ʿAbd Allah ibn al-Muʿtazz al-ʿAbbasi composed a fine elegy for his cousin al-Muʿtadid, in which he says (1):

O Time, alas for you—you have spared me no one;
you are an evil parent who devours his very children.

I seek Allah’s pardon—indeed, all this is destiny;
I am content with Allah, the One, the Self-Subsisting.

O dweller of the grave, in a dusty, sunless gloom,
buried at al-Tahiriyya (2), far from home and all alone!

Where are the armies you once packed so full (3)?
Where are the treasures you numbered one by one?

Where is the throne you used to fill with awe—
whose mere sight made every onlooker quake?

Where are the palaces you raised so high,
where the sheen of burnished gold flashed and flamed?

They wore out every fleet, sure-footed mount—
each broad-chested camel flinging foam from its jaws.

Where are the enemies whose stubborn pride you broke (4)?
Where are the lions you reduced to helpless spoil (5)?

Where are the envoys who kept vigil at your gates,
like thirsty flocks of sand-grouse that neither roamed nor scattered?

Where are the men, standing firm in their stations—
he who came back un-slain among them deemed himself fortunate?

Where are the steeds whose fetlocks you crimsoned with blood,
that once bore from your side the very king of lions?

Where are the lances you nourished with lifeblood?
Since your death they have pierced neither heart nor liver.

Where are the swords, and the arrows you loosed,
striking whatever foe you willed, no matter how distant?

Where are the catapults, elephant-like in bulk,
that battered the ramparts of any fortress, standing or fallen?

Where are the exploits you used to contrive,
never believing that mercy could ever avail?

Where are the gardens whose streams once ran,
where the songbirds answered one another in delight?