Aladdin and the Jinn

“bring me soft song,” said Aladdin;   “This tailor-shop sings not at all. Chant me a word of the twilight,   Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish   That will comfort the stale and the sad, For I would be mending my spirit,   Forgetting these days that are bad: Forgetting companions too shallow,   Their quarrels and arguments thin; Forgetting the shouting muezzin.”   “I am your slave,” said the Jinn. “Bring me old wines,” said Aladdin,   “I have been a starved pauper too long. Serve them in vessels of jade and of shell,   Serve them with fruit and with song: Wines of pre-Adamite Sultans   Digged from beneath the black seas, New-gathered dew from the heavens   Dripped down from heaven’s sweet trees, Cups from the angels’ pale tables   That will make me both handsome and wise; For I have beheld her, the Princess—   Firelight and starlight her eyes! Pauper I am—I would woo her.   And … let me drink wine to begin, Though the Koran expressly forbids it.”   “I am your slave,” said the Jinn. “Plan me a dome,” said Aladdin,   “That is drawn like the dawn of the moon, When the sphere seems to rest on the mountains   Half-hidden, yet full-risen soon. Build me a dome,” said Aladdin,   “That shall cause all young lovers to sigh— The fulness of life and of beauty,   Peace beyond peace to the eye; A palace of foam and of opal,   Pure moonlight without and within, Where I may enthrone my sweet lady.”   “I am your slave,” said the Jinn.