The judge turned toward the accused man,
Said, “Your claim needs an oath to stand.”
He replied, “Since guilt of sin I lack,
With a heart bruised and full of ache.
I swear by the turbans, white and grand,
The crowns that adorn scholars of this land.”
The judge said, “This oath won’t suffice,
What you claim is not a usual device.
You either know not the meaning of oath,
Or have not seen shackles’ dire growth.
A vow demands a sacred thread,
Swearing by lifeless things is misled.”
The accused added, “These turbans, you see,
Were once just clothes, like any would be.
Back then they held neither life nor grace,
For they had no bread to embrace.
Our plentiful bread we finally gave,
Our humble lives for them we saved.
How dare you say they’re not sacred too,
When akin to divine essence they’re true.
If fear you lack, say to its face,
That its eyes don’t hold a holy place.
A poet belittled the turban once,
Worse than idolatrous acts, at once.
The creator of that rhyme was shamed,
His ears to the mosque’s wall were claimed.
To us, a turban is all and none,
Tell me, what ranks above it, if there’s one?”
The judge replied, “What I said was astray,
With thoughtless words, I’ve lost my way.
Speak to no one of today’s debate,
Forget what you heard in our state’s gate.
Next time in court, I’ll bring near,
A turban for all eyes to revere.
So with washed hands and deepest respect,
The accused can honor and protect.
The turban’s free of deceit’s guise,
Thus, its being is sanctified and wise.
Keep your bond with the turban tight,
Doubt not your oath’s pure light.”