The Egyptian Funeral A Potters Poem O lord my pots worship in your temples, You have the strength of a leopard, You have the courage of a lioness, Lord I bow to you like a willow tree, Your power's like the great hot, burning sun, My wheel mourns for you O' lord, O' great one, Your people whine in sorrow as you go, O lord your soft, kind words have blessed us all, The Nile swims away spreading the news, O lord my tools weep long and hard for you. by Hira Majeed