Kingdoms fell cosmos and comets crashed and the sun turned over in its thrice-told tale of terror and this son of Sialkot stood thigh-high in gore and gut held off the shining hordes held them this magnificent shield while others may retreat while something of the ancient myth be yet retrieved stood there grim as death stood there where the river waters are dark, the earth green above him a spurning sun around him spinning blood there isn’t loneliness enough to crush him yet the soggy letter from his just-wed wife soaked in tears now soaks in red hark who stands silhouette in the sunset stock-still bloody bayonetted but refuses to bow now the earth revolves a reluctant revolution a piffer is down and he’s gone. I remember,? Dacca, March, 1971 Sabir, friend and brother your gray eyes suddenly become somber foreseeing ? a universal blood dance? a universal blight that? amputees inflict on themselves? you saw it all? the lost cause, the awesome response yet you smiled? the secret smile of the soldier? knowing? that darkness will descend? and eternal glory be won. The writer is the Ibn Khaldun Chair of Islamic Studies, School of International Service, American University, Washington