It's no good trying to weigh me up -
I can't be balanced on a pair of scales.
From this day to that my very colour changes -
Nay, I'm a man whose aspect alters
As morning turns to evening
And back once more to morning.
Muslims and infidels - I know their minds
And understand them through and through.
"He's ours!" the angels of Hell proclaim of me
"No, ours!" the angels of Heaven protest.
I have, then, all these striking qualities
Which no one can ignore -
But who can really know my mind?
Only a grey-head who has lived for many days
And learned to measure what men are worth.
And now, my friends, each man of you -
If either of the paths I follow
Takes your fancy and delights your heart,
Or even if you cannot bear to lose
The entertainment I provide,
Then come to me along the path -
You're free to make a choice!
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