Suleika Nameh.
Once, methought, in the night hours cold,
That I saw the moon in my sleep;
But as soon as I waken’d, behold
Unawares rose the sun from the deep.
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BOOK OF SULEIKA.
THAT Suleika’s love was so strong
For Jussuf, need cause no surprise;
He was young, youth pleaseth the eyes, —
He was fair, they say, beyond measure
Fair was she, and so great was their pleasure.
But that thou, who awaitedst me long,
Youthful glances of fire dost throw me,
Soon wilt bless me, thy love now dost show me,
This shall my joyous numbers proclaim,
Thee I forever Suleika shall name.
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HATEM.
NOT occasion makes the thief;
She’s the greatest of the whole;
For Love’s relics, to my grief,
From my aching heart she stole.
She hath given it to thee, —
All the joy my life had known,
So that, in my poverty,
Life I seek from thee alone.
Yet compassion greets me straight
In the lustre of thine eye,
And I bless my newborn fate,
As within thine arms I lie.
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SULEIKA.
THE sun appears! A glorious sight!
The crescent moon clings round him now.
What could this wondrous pair unite?
How to explain this riddle? How?
Hatem.
May this our joy’s foreboder prove!
In it I view myself and thee;
Thou callest me thy sun, my love, —
Come, my sweet moon, cling thou round me!
Love for love, and moments sweet,
Lips returning kiss for kiss,
Word for word, and eyes that meet;
Breath for breath, and bliss for bliss.
Thus at eve, and thus the morrow!
Yet thou feelest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Jussuf’s graces borrow,
All thy beauty I’d repay!
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HATEM.
OH, say, ‘neath what celestial sign
The day doth lie,
When ne’er again this heart of mine
Away will fly?
And e’en though fled (what thought divine!)
Would near me lie? —
On the soft couch, on whose sweet shrine
My heart near hers will lie!
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HATEM.
HOLD me, locks, securely caught
In the circle of her face!
Dear brown serpents, I have naught
To repay this act of grace,
Save a heart whose love ne’er dies,
Throbbing with aye-youthful glow;
For a raging Etna lies
‘Neath its veil of mist and snow.
Yonder mountain’s stately brow
Thou, like morning beams, dost shame;
Once again feels Hatem now
Spring’s soft breath and summer’s flame.
One more bumper! Fill the glass;
This last cup I pledge to thee! —
By mine ashes if she pass,
“He consum’d,” she’ll say, “for me.”
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THE LOVING ONE SPEAKS.
AND wherefore sends not
The horseman-captain
His heralds hither
Each day, unfailing?
Yet hath he horses,
He writeth well.
He writeth Talik,
And Neski knows he
To write with beauty
On silken tablets.
I’d deem him present,
Had I his words.
The sick One will not,
Will not recover,
From her sweet sorrow;
She, when she heareth
That her true lover
Grows well, falls sick.
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THE LOVING ONE AGAIN.
WRITES he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Talik,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good! — for he loves!
These tufted branches fair
Observe, my lov’d one, well!
And see the fruits they bear
In green and prickly shell!
They’ve hung roll’d up, till now,
Unconsciously and still;
A loosely-waving bough
Doth rock them at its will.
Yet, ripening from within,
The kernel brown swells fast;
It seeks the air to win,
It seeks the sun at last.
With joy it bursts its thrall,
The shell must needs give way:
’Tis thus my numbers fall
Before thy feet, each day.
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SULEIKA.
WHAT is by this stir reveal’d?
Doth the East glad tidings bring?
For my heart’s deep wounds are heal’d
By his mild and cooling wing.
He the dust with sports doth meet,
And in gentle cloudlets chase;
To the vineleaf’s safe retreat
Drives the insect’s happy race;
Cools these burning cheeks of mine,
Checks the sun’s fierce glow amain;
Kisses, as he flies, the vine,
Flaunting over hill and plain.
And his whispers soft convey
Thousand greetings from my friend;
Ere these hills own night’s dark sway,
Kisses greet me, without end.
Thus canst thou still onward go,
Serving friend and mourner too!
There, where lofty ramparts glow,
Soon the lov’d one shall I view.
Ah, what makes the heart’s truth known, —
Love’s sweet breath, — a newborn life, —
Learn I from his mouth alone,
In his breath alone is rife!
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THE SUBLIME TYPE.
THE sun, whom Grecians Helios call,
His heavenly path with pride doth tread,
And, to subdue the world’s wide all,
Looks round, beneath him, high o’er head.
He sees the fairest goddess pine,
Heaven’s child, the daughter of the clouds, —
For her alone he seems to shine;
In trembling grief his form he shrouds,
Careless for all the realms of bliss, —
Her streaming tears more swiftly flow:
For every pearl he gives a kiss,
And changeth into joy her woe.
She gazeth upward fixedly,
And deeply feels his glance of might,
While, stamp’d with his own effigy,
Each pearl would range itself aright.
Thus wreath’d with bows, with hues thus grac’d,
With gladness beams her face so fair,
While he, to meet her, maketh haste,
And yet, alas! can reach her ne’er.
So, by the har
sh decree of Fate,
Thou movest from me, dearest one;
And were I Helios e’en, the Great,
What would avail his chariot-throne?
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SULEIKA.
ZEPHYR, for thy humid wing,
Oh, how much I envy thee!
Thou to him canst tidings bring
How our parting saddens me!
In my breast, a yearning still
As thy pinions wave, appears;
Flowers and eyes, and wood, and hill
At thy breath are steep’d in tears.
Yet thy mild wing gives relief,
Soothes the aching eyelid’s pain;
Ah, I else had died for grief,
Him ne’er hop’d to see again.
To my love, then, quick repair,
Whisper softly to his heart;
Yet, to give him pain, beware,
Nor my bosom’s pangs impart.
Tell him, but in accents coy,
That his love must be my life;
Both, with feelings fraught with joy,
In his presence will be rife.
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THE REUNION.
CAN it be! of stars the star,
Do I press thee to my heart?
In the night of distance far,
What deep gulf, what bitter smart!
Yes, ’tis thou, indeed, at last,
Of my joys the partner dear!
Mindful, though, of sorrows past,
I the present needs must fear.
When the still-unfashion’d earth
Lay on God’s eternal breast,
He ordain’d its hour of birth,
With creative joy possess’d.
Then a heavy sigh arose,
When He spake the sentence: — ”Be!”
And the All, with mighty throes,
Burst into reality.
And when thus was born the light,
Darkness near it fear’d to stay,
And the elements with might
Fled on every side away;
Each on some far-distant trace,
Each with visions wild employ’d,
Numb, in boundless realms of space,
Harmony and feeling-void.
Dumb was all, all still and dead,
For the first time, God alone!
Then He form’d the morning-red,
Which soon made its kindness known:
It unravell’d from the waste
Bright and glowing harmony,
And once more with love was grac’d
What contended formerly.
And with earnest, noble strife,
Each its own Peculiar sought;
Back to full, unbounded life
Sight and feeling soon were brought.
Wherefore, if ’tis done, explore
How? why give the manner, name?
Allah need create no more,
We his world ourselves can frame.
So, with morning pinions bright,
To thy mouth was I impell’d;
Stamp’d with thousand seals by night,
Star-clear is the bond fast held.
Paragons on earth are we
Both of grief and joy sublime,
And a second sentence: — ”Be!”
Parts us not a second time.
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SULEIKA.
WITH what inward joy, sweet lay,
I thy meaning have descried!
Lovingly thou seem’st to say
That I’m ever by his side;
That he ever thinks of me,
That he to the absent gives
All his love’s sweet ecstasy,
While for him alone she lives.
Yes, the mirror which reveals
Thee, my lov’d one, is my breast;
This the bosom where thy seals
Endless kisses have impress’d.
Numbers sweet, unsullied truth,
Chain me down in sympathy!
Love’s embodied radiant youth,
In the garb of poesy!
In thousand forms may’st thou attempt surprise,
Yet, all-beloved-one, straight know I thee;
Thou may’st with magic veils thy face disguise,
And yet, all-present-one, straight know I thee.
Upon the cypress’ purest, youthful bud,
All-beauteous-growing-one, straight know I thee;
In the canal’s unsullied, living flood,
All-captivating-one, well know I thee.
When spreads the water-column, rising proud,
All-sportive-one, how gladly know I thee;
When, e’en in forming, is transform’d the cloud,
All-figure-changing-one, there know I thee.
Veil’d in the meadow-carpet’s flow’ry charms,
All-chequer’d-starry-fair-one, know I thee;
And if a plant extend its thousand arms,
O all-embracing-one, there know I thee.
When on the mount is kindled morn’s sweet light,
Straightway, all-gladd’ning-one, salute I thee;
The arch of heaven o’erhead grows pure and bright, —
All-heart-expanding-one, then breathe I thee.
That which my inward, outward sense proclaims,
Thou all-instructing-one, I know through thee;
And if I utter Allah’s hundred names,
A name with each one echoes, meant for thee.
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Safi Nameh.
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THE CONVIVIAL BOOK.
ALSO in the wine-room have been sitting,
They serv’d me like the others as was fitting.
Men gossip’d, shouted, told the day’s event,
Gayly or sadly as the day was spent.
But I sat, inwardly with all content;
I thought about my love. How does she love?
I do not know, but why should that concern?
I love her all things else on earth above,
As truly as a heart can ever burn.
Where is that parchment, where that precious style,
That give me power? This was the thought! I smile!
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THE INN.
MAIDEN with the dark-brown ringlets,
Crafty maiden, prithee leave me!
If I serve my lord with favor,
He would kiss my brow, believe me.
Thou, however, I would wager,
Art not with me well contented;
But I know my friend will weary
Of thy cheeks, thy breasts, sweet-scented.
That thou shamefaced turnest from me,
Dost thou reckon to deceive me?
By the door-sill I will slumber,
And awaken if thou leave me.
Because we yield to drunkenness,
They cover us with blame,
Their words about our drunkenness
Forever are the same.
Men oftenest in drunkenness
Have slept ‘till daylight came;
But all night long my drunkenness
Drove me without an aim.
My trouble is love’s drunkenness,
It plagues me without shame.
From day till night, from night till day
It knows my heart to claim, —
Though buried deep in drunkenness
The songs that flash and flame,
And which no jejune drunkenness
Could ever dare to tame.
Love, song and Bacchic drunkenness,
In night and day t
he same;
But the divinest drunkenness
Fills me with joy and shame.
Can the Koran from Eternity be?
’Tis worth not a thought!
Can the Koran a creation, then, be?
Of that, I know naught!
Yet that the book of all books it must be,
I believe as a Mussulman ought.
That from Eternity wine, though, must be,
I ever have thought;
That ’twas ordain’d, ere the angels, to be,
As a truth may be taught.
Drinkers, however these matters may be,
Gaze on God’s face, fearing naught.
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THE INN.
THIS last glass, I gladly drain it;
That I think must now suffice thee: —
Here enjoy these fresh-pluck’d almonds,
Then the wine once more’ll entice thee.
Then I’ll lead thee to the terrace,
With cool breezes gently blowing,
And perchance thou’lt kiss thy servant,
As I catch thy eye in going.
See, the world is not delusion,
Birds and nests mark her endeavor,
Breath of roses, oil of roses,
And the bulbul sings forever.
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Mathal Nameh.
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BOOK OF PARABLES.
IN the Koran with strange delight
A peacock’s feather met my sight:
Thou’rt welcome in this holy place,
The highest prize on earth’s wide face!
As in the stars of heaven, in thee,
God’s greatness in the small we see;
For he whose gaze whole worlds hath bless’d
His eye hath even here impress’d,
And the light down in beauty dress’d,
So that e’en monarchs cannot hope
In splendor with the bird to cope.
Meekly enjoy thy happy lot,
And so deserve that holy spot!
From heaven there fell upon the foaming wave
A timid drop; the flood with anger roar’d, —
But God, its modest boldness to reward,
Strength to the drop and firm endurance gave.
Its form the mussel captive took.
And to its lasting glory and renown,
The pearl now glistens in our monarch’s crown,
With gentle gleam and loving look.
Bulbul’s song, through night hours cold,
Rose to Allah’s throne on high;
To reward her melody,
Giveth he a cage of gold.
Such a cage are limbs of men, —
Though at first she feels confin’d,
Yet when all she brings to mind,
Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Page 288