And so, after some restless days and agonising nights, the following verses are what flowed.

I wrote this poem late at night after listening to the radio about the horror in Syria.

{It invites he who turned away [from truth] and fled away [from obedience]; And collected [wealth] and withheld it. Indeed, man was created very anxious; fretful when evil touches him; And when good touches him, withholding [of it].}

For every valuable teardrop shed . . .