Over an abandoned villa swirled
The cloud of a returning djinn,
Back from a tour of the world;
His voice, now loud, now soft,
Wafted through the rafters from aloft
With, “Master, let me in, let me in.”
“Genie, why have you returned?”
Asked the fisherman, startled and dismayed;
“The spell was broken and your freedom earned;
“With my requests you long ago complied;
“I am the one outwitted and betrayed,
“And you the master to command the tide.”
Lower and lower sank the red afreet;
Wreathed in smoke, his monstrous dewlaps yawned,
Shrank, and flowed into the lamp’s retreat.
He rumbles now, anticipating slumber,
“Kingdoms I shall grant you, realms without number;
The lamp is warmer than the world beyond.”