We sent not down against his people after him a host from heaven, nor do We ever send

It was but one Shout, and lo! they were extinct

Ah, the anguish for the bondmen! Never came there unto them a messenger but they did mock him

Have they not seen how many generations We destroyed before them, which indeed returned not unto them

But all, without exception, will be brought before Us

A token unto them is the dead earth. We revive it, and We bring forth from it grain so that they eat thereof

And We have placed therein gardens of the date-palm and grapes, and We have caused springs of water to gush forth therein

That they may eat of the fruit thereof, and their hands made it not. Will they not, then, give thanks

Glory be to Him Who created all the sexual pairs, of that which the earth groweth, and of themselves, and of that which they know not

A token unto them is night. We strip it of the day, and lo! they are in darkness

And the sun runneth on unto a resting-place for him. That is the measuring of the Mighty, the Wise

And for the moon We have appointed mansions till she return like an old shrivelled palm-leaf

It is not for the sun to overtake the moon, nor doth the night outstrip the day. They float each in an orbit