Desire

To The Chosen One

HAND in hand! and lip to lip!

Oh, be faithful, maiden dear!
Fare thee well! thy lover's ship
Past full many a rock must steers


But should he the haven see,


When the storm has ceased to break,
And be happy, reft of thee,--
May the Gods fierce vengeance take!
Boldly dared is well nigh won!
Half my task is solved aright;


Ev'ry star's to me a sun,


Only cowards deem it night.
Stood I idly by thy side,
Sorrow still would sadden me;


But when seas our paths divide,
Gladly toil I,--toil for thee!
Now the valley I perceive,
Where together we will go,


And the streamlet watch each eve,


Gliding peacefully below
Oh, the poplars on yon spot!
Oh, the beech trees in yon grove!


And behind we'll build a cot,
Where to taste the joys of love!

The Wedding Night

WITHIN the chamber, far away

From the glad feast, sits Love in dread
Lest guests disturb, in wanton play,
The silence of the bridal bed.


His torch's pale flame serves to gild


The scene with mystic sacred glow;
The room with incense-clouds is fil'd,
That ye may perfect rapture know.
How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear
The chime that warns thy guests to fly!


How glow'st thou for those lips so dear,


That soon are mute, and nought deny!
With her into the holy place
Thou hast'nest then, to perfect all;


The fire the warder's hands embrace,
Grows, like a night-light, dim and small.
How heaves her bosom, and how burns
Her face at every fervent kiss!


Her coldness now to trembling turns,


Thy daring now a duty is.
Love helps thee to undress her fast,
But thou art twice as fast as he;


And then he shuts both eye at last,
With sly and roguish modesty.

The Maid Of The Mill's Treachery

WHENCE comes our friend so hastily,

When scarce the Eastern sky is grey?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,
In yonder holy spot to pray?


The brook appears to hem his path,


Would he barefooted o'er it go?
Why curse his orisons in wrath,
Across those heights beclad with snow?
Alas! his warm bed he bath left,
Where he had look'd for bliss, I ween;


And if his cloak too, had been reft,


How fearful his disgrace had been!
By yonder villain sorely press'd,
His wallet from him has been torn;


Our hapless friend has been undress'd,
Left well nigh naked as when born.
The reason why he came this road,
Is that he sought a pair of eyes,


Which, at the mill, as brightly glow'd


As those that are in Paradise.
He will not soon again be there;
From out the house he quickly hied,


And when he gain'd the open air,
Thus bitterly and loudly cried
'Within her gaze, so dazzling bright,
No word of treachery I could read;


She seem'd to see me with delight,


Yet plann'd e'en then this cruel deed!
Could I, when basking in her smile,
Dream of the treason in her breast?


She bade kind Cupid stay awhile,
And he was there, to make us blest.



'To taste of love's sweet ecstasy


Throughout the night, that endless seem'd,
And for her mother's help to cry
Only when morning sunlight beam'd!


A dozen of her kith and kin,


A very human flood, in-press'd
Her cousins came, her aunts peer'd in,
And uncles, brothers, and the rest.
'Then what a tumult, fierce and loud!
Each seem'd a beast of prey to be;


The maiden's honour all the crowd,


With fearful shout, demand of me.
Why should they, madmen-like, begin
To fall upon a guiltless youth?


For he who such a prize would win,
Far nimbler needs must be, in truth.
'The way to follow up with skill
His freaks, by love betimes is known:


He ne'er will leave, within a mill,


Sweet flowers for sixteen years alone.-
They stole my clothes away,-yes, all!
And tried my cloak besides to steal.

How strange that any house so small
So many rascals could conceal!
'Then I sprang up, and raved, and swore,
To force a passage through them there.


I saw the treacherous maid once more,


And she was still, alas, so fair
They all gave way before my wrath,
Wild outcries flew about pell-mell;


At length I managed to rush forth,
With voice of thunder, from that hell.


'As maidens of the town we fly,


We'll shun you maidens of the village;
Leave it to those of quality
Their humble worshippers to pillage.


Yet if ye are of practised skill,


And of all tender ties afraid,
Exchange your lovers, if ye will,
But never let them be betray'd.'
Thus sings he in the winter-night,
While not a blade of grass was green.


I laugh'd to see his piteous plight,


For it was well-deserved, I ween.
And may this be the fate of all,
Who treat by day their true loves ill,


And, with foolhardy daring, crawl
By night to Cupid's treacherous mill!

The Magic Net

Do I see a contest yonder?
See I miracles or pastimes?
Beauteous urchins, five in number,
'Gainst five sisters fair contending,--
Measured is the time they're beating--
At a bright enchantress' bidding.
Glitt'ring spears by some are wielded,
Threads are others nimbly twining,


So that in their snares, the weapons
One would think, must needs be captured,
Soon, in truth, the spears are prison'd;
Yet they, in the gentle war-dance,
One by one escape their fetters
In the row of loops so tender,
That make haste to seize a free one
Soon as they release a captive.


So with contests, strivings, triumphs,
Flying now, and now returning,
Is an artful net soon woven,
In its whiteness like the snow-flakes,
That, from light amid the darkness,
Draw their streaky lines so varied,
As e'en colours scarce can draw them.


Who shall now receive that garment
Far beyond all others wish'd-for?
Whom our much-loved mistress favour
As her own acknowledged servant?
I am blest by kindly Fortune's
Tokens true, in silence pray'd for!
And I feel myself held captive,
To her service now devoted.


Yet, e'en while I, thus enraptured,
Thus adorn'd, am proudly wand'ring,
See! yon wantons are entwining,
Void of strife, with secret ardour,
Other nets, each fine and finer,
Threads of twilight interweaving,
Moonbeams sweet, night-violets' balsam.


Ere the net is noticed by us,
Is a happier one imprison'd,
Whom we, one and all, together
Greet with envy and with blessings.

The Goblet

ONCE I held a well-carved brimming goblet,--
In my two hands tightly clasp'd I held it,
Eagerly the sweet wine sipp'd I from it,
Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow.


Amor enter'd in, and found me sitting,
And he gently smiled in modest fashion,
Smiled as though the foolish one he pitied.


"Friend, I know a far more beauteous vessel,
One wherein to sink thy spirit wholly;
Say, what wilt thou give me, if I grant it,
And with other nectar fill it for thee?"


Oh, how kindly hath he kept his promise!
For to me, who long had yearn'd, he granted
Thee, my Lida, fill'd with soft affection.


When I clasp mine arms around thee fondly,
When I drink in love's long-hoarded balsam
From thy darling lips so true, so faithful,
Fill'd with bliss thus speak I to my spirit
"No! a vessel such as this, save Amor
Never god hath fashion'd or been lord of!
Such a form was ne'er produced by Vulcan
With his cunning, reason-gifted hammers!
On the leaf-crown'd mountains may Lyaeus
Bid his Fauns, the oldest and the wisest,
Pass the choicest clusters through the winepress,
And himself watch o'er the fermentation:
Such a draught no toil can e'er procure him!"

The Friendly Meeting

IN spreading mantle to my chin concealed,
I trod the rocky path, so steep and grey,
Then to the wintry plain I bent my way
Uneasily, to flight my bosom steel'd.
But sudden was the newborn day reveal'd:
A maiden came, in heavenly bright array,
Like the fair creatures of the poet's lay
In realms of song. My yearning heart was heal'd.
Yet turn'd I thence, till she had onward pass'd,
While closer still the folds to draw I tried,
As though with heat self-kindled to grow warm;
But follow'd her. She stood. The die was cast!
No more within my mantle could I hide;
I threw it off,--she lay within mine arm.

The Fisherman

THE waters rush'd, the waters rose,

A fisherman sat by,
While on his line in calm repose
He cast his patient eye.


And as he sat, and hearken'd there,


The flood was cleft in twain,
And, lo! a dripping mermaid fair
Sprang from the troubled main.
She sang to him, and spake the while:
"Why lurest thou my brood,


With human wit and human guile


From out their native flood?
Oh, couldst thou know how gladly dart
The fish across the sea,


Thou wouldst descend, e'en as thou art,
And truly happy be!
"Do not the sun and moon with grace
Their forms in ocean lave?


Shines not with twofold charms their face,


When rising from the wave?
The deep, deep heavens, then lure thee not,--
The moist yet radiant blue,--

Not thine own form,--to tempt thy lot
'Midst this eternal dew?"
The waters rush'd, the waters rose,
Wetting his naked feet;


As if his true love's words were those,


His heart with longing beat.
She sang to him, to him spake she,
His doom was fix'd, I ween;


Half drew she him, and half sank he,
And ne'er again was seen.

The Convivial Book - Can The Koran From Eternity Be?

'Tis worth not a thought!

Can the Koran a creation, then, be?
Of that, I know nought!
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 nought.

The Beauteous Flower - Son Of The Imprisioned Count

COUNT.
I KNOW a flower of beauty rare,
Ah, how I hold it dear!


To seek it I would fain repair,
Were I not prison'd here.


My sorrow sore oppresses me,
For when I was at liberty,
I had it close beside me.
Though from this castle's walls so steep
I cast mine eyes around,


And gaze oft from the lofty keep,
The flower can not be found.


Whoe'er would bring it to my sight,
Whether a vassal he, or knight,
My dearest friend I'd deem him.
THE ROSE.
I blossom fair,--thy tale of woes
I hear from 'neath thy grate.


Thou doubtless meanest me, the rose.
Poor knight of high estate!


Thou hast in truth a lofty mind;
The queen of flowers is then enshrin'd,
I doubt not, in thy bosom.
COUNT.
Thy red, in dress of green array'd,
As worth all praise I hold;


And so thou'rt treasured by each maid
Like precious stones or gold.


Thy wreath adorns the fairest face
But still thou'rt not the flower whose grace
I honour here in silence.
THE LILY.



The rose is wont with pride to swell,


And ever seeks to rise;
But gentle sweethearts love full well
The lily's charms to prize,


The heart that fills a bosom true,
That is, like me, unsullied too,
My merit values duly.
COUNT.


In truth, I hope myself unstain'd,
And free from grievous crime;
Yet I am here a prisoner chain'd,


And pass in grief my time,
To me thou art an image sure
Of many a maiden, mild and pure,


And yet I know a dearer.
THE PINK.
That must be me, the pink, who scent
The warder's garden here;


Or wherefore is he so intent
My charms with care to rear?


My petals stand in beauteous ring,
Sweet incense all around I fling,
And boast a thousand colours.
COUNT.
The pink in truth we should not slight,
It is the gardener's pride


It now must stand exposed to light,
Now in the shade abide.


Yet what can make the Count's heart glow
Is no mere pomp of outward show;
It is a silent flower.
THE VIOLET.



Here stand I, modestly half hid,


And fain would silence keep;
Yet since to speak I now am bid,
I'll break my silence deep.


If, worthy Knight, I am that flower,
It grieves me that I have not power
To breathe forth all my sweetness.
COUNT.


The violet's charms I prize indeed,
So modest 'tis, and fair,
And smells so sweet; yet more I need


To ease my heavy care.
The truth I'll whisper in thine ear:
Upon these rocky heights so drear,


I cannot find the loved one.
The truest maiden 'neath the sky
Roams near the stream below,


And breathes forth many a gentle sigh,
Till I from hence can go.


And when she plucks a flow'ret blue,
And says "Forget-me-not!"--I, too,
Though far away, can feel it.
Ay, distance only swells love's might,
When fondly love a pair;


Though prison'd in the dungeon's night,
In life I linger there


And when my heart is breaking nigh,
"Forget-me-not!" is all I cry,
And straightway life returneth.

Roman Elegies I

Tell me you stones, O speak, you towering palaces!
Streets, say a word! Spirit of this place, are you dumb?
All things are alive in your sacred walls
eternal Rome, only for me all’s still.
Who will whisper to me, at what window
will I see the sweet thing who will kindle me, and quicken?
Already I guess the ways, walking to her and from her,
ever and always I’ll go, while sweet time slips by.
I’m gazing at church and palace, ruin and column,
like a serious man making sensible use of a journey,
but soon it will happen, and all will be one vast temple,
Love’s temple, receiving its new initiate.
Though you are a whole world, Rome, still, without Love,
the world’s not the world, Rome cannot be Rome.

New Love, New Life

HEART! my heart! what means this feeling?

What oppresseth thee so sore?
What strange life is o'er me stealing!
I acknowledge thee no more.

Fled is all that gave thee gladness,
Fled the cause of all thy sadness,
Fled thy peace, thine industry-
Ah, why suffer it to be?

Say, do beauty's graces youthful,
Does this form so fair and bright,
Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful,

Chain thee with unceasing might?
Would I tear me from her boldly,
Courage take, and fly her coldly,

Back to her. I'm forthwith led
By the path I seek to tread.


By a thread I ne'er can sever,


For 'tis 'twined with magic skill,
Doth the cruel maid for ever
Hold me fast against my will.


While those magic chains confine me,
To her will I must resign me.
Ah, the change in truth is great!
Love! kind love! release me straight!

May Song II

BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
Between hedgerow and thorn,
Between pasture and tree,
Where's my sweetheart
Tell it me!


Sweetheart caught I


Not at home;
She's then, thought I.


Gone to roam.
Fair and loving


Blooms sweet May;
Sweetheart's roving,


Free and gay.


By the rock near the wave,
Where her first kiss she gave,
On the greensward, to me,--
Something I see!
Is it she?

Longing


WHAT pulls at my heart so?

What tells me to roam?
What drags me and lures me
From chamber and home?


How round the cliffs gather


The clouds high in air!
I fain would go thither,
I fain would be there!
The sociable flight
Of the ravens comes back;


I mingle amongst them,


And follow their track.
Round wall and round mountain
Together we fly;


She tarries below there,
I after her spy.
Then onward she wanders,
My flight I wing soon


To the wood fill'd with bushes,


A bird of sweet tune.
She tarries and hearkens,
And smiling, thinks she:


"How sweetly he's singing!
He's singing to me!"
The heights are illum'd
By the fast setting sun;


The pensive fair maiden


Looks thoughtfully on;
She roams by the streamlet,
O'er meadows she goes,


And darker and darker
The pathway fast grows.



I rise on a sudden,


A glimmering star;
"What glitters above me,
So near and so far?"
And when thou with wonder
Hast gazed on the light,


I fall down before thee,
Entranced by thy sight!

Joy And Sorrow

As a fisher-boy I fared

To the black rock in the sea,
And, while false gifts I prepared.
Listen'd and sang merrily,


Down descended the decoy,


Soon a fish attack'd the bait;
One exultant shout of joy,-
And the fish was captured straight.
Ah! on shore, and to the wood
Past the cliffs, o'er stock and stone,


One foot's traces I pursued,


And the maiden was alone.
Lips were silent, eyes downcast
As a clasp-knife snaps the bait,


With her snare she seized me fast,
And the boy was captured straight.
Heav'n knows who's the happy swain
That she rambles with anew!


I must dare the sea again,


Spite of wind and weather too.
When the great and little fish
Wail and flounder in my net,


Straight returns my eager wish
In her arms to revel yet!

Ganymede


How, in the light of morning,
Round me thou glowest,
Spring, thou beloved one!
With thousand-varying loving bliss
The sacred emotions
Born of thy warmth eternal
Press 'gainst my bosom,
Thou endlessly fair one!
Could I but hold thee clasp'd
Within mine arms!


Ah! upon thy bosom
Lay I, pining,
And then thy flowers, thy grass,
Were pressing against my heart.
Thou coolest the burning
Thirst of my bosom,
Beauteous morning breeze!
The nightingale then calls me
Sweetly from out of the misty vale.
I come, I come!
Whither? Ah, whither?


Up, up, lies my course.
While downward the clouds
Are hovering, the clouds
Are bending to meet yearning love.
For me,
Within thine arms
Upwards!
Embraced and embracing!
Upwards into thy bosom,
Oh Father all-loving!

From Faust - V. Margaret At Her Spinning-Wheel

MY heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;
I find it never
And nevermore.
When gone is he,

The grave I see;
The world's wide all
Is turned to gall.

Alas, my head

Is well-nigh crazed;
My feeble mind
Is sore amazed.
My heart is sad,
My peace is o'er;


I find it never
And nevermore.
For him from the window
Alone I spy;


For him alone
From home go I.
His lofty step,
His noble form,


His mouth's sweet smile,
His glances warm,
His voice so fraught
With magic bliss,


His hand's soft pressure,
And, ah, his kiss!
My heart is sad,
My peace is o'er;


I find it never



And nevermore.
My bosom yearns
For his form so fair;


Ah, could I clasp him
And hold him there!
My kisses sweet
Should stop his breath,


And 'neath his kisses
I'd sink in death!

Finnish Song

IF the loved one, the well-known one,
Should return as he departed,
On his lips would ring my kisses,
Though the wolf's blood might have dyed them;
And a hearty grasp I'd give him,
Though his finger-ends were serpents.


Wind! Oh, if thou hadst but reason,
Word for word in turns thou'dst carry,
E'en though some perchance might perish
'Tween two lovers so far distant.


All choice morsels I'd dispense with,
Table-flesh of priests neglect too,
Sooner than renounce my lover,
Whom, in Summer having vanquish'd,
I in Winter tamed still longer.

Christel


My senses ofttimes are oppress'd,

Oft stagnant is my blood;
But when by Christel's sight I'm blest,
I feel my strength renew'd.


I see her here, I see her there,


And really cannot tell
The manner how, the when, the where,
The why I love her well.
If with the merest glance I view
Her black and roguish eyes,


And gaze on her black eyebrows too,


My spirit upward flies.
Has any one a mouth so sweet,
Such love-round cheeks as she?


Ah, when the eye her beauties meet,
It ne'er content can be.
And when in airy German dance
I clasp her form divine,


So quick we whirl, so quick advance,


What rapture then like mine!
And when she's giddy, and feels warm,
I cradle her, poor thing,


Upon my breast, and in mine arm,-I'm
then a very king!
And when she looks with love on me,
Forgetting all but this,


When press'd against my bosom, she


Exchanges kiss for kiss,
All through my marrow runs a thrill,
Runs e'en my foot along!


I feel so well, I feel so ill,
I feel so weak, so strong!


Would that such moments ne'er would end!


The day ne'er long I find;
Could I the night too with her spend,
E'en that I should not mind.


If she were in mine arms but held,


To quench love's thirst I'd try;
And could my torments not be quell'd,
Upon her breast would die.

Book Of Timur - To Suleika

FITTING perfumes to prepare,

And to raise thy rapture high,
Must a thousand rosebuds fair
First in fiery torments die.
One small flask's contents to glean,
Whose sweet fragrance aye may live,


Slender as thy finger e'en,
Must a world its treasures give;
Yes, a world where life is moving,
Which, with impulse full and strong,


Could forbode the Bulbul's loving,
Sweet, and spirit-stirring song.
Since they thus have swell'd our joy,
Should such torments grieve us, then?


Doth not Timur's rule destroy
Myriad souls of living men?

Book Of Suleika - Suleika 04

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 loved 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!

Book Of Suleika - Love For Love

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 feeblest, at my lay,

Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Joseph's graces borrow,
All thy beauty I'd repay!

Book Of Suleika - Hatem 01

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.

Book Of Suleika - Hatem 03

HOLD me, locks, securely caught

In the circle of her face!
Dear brown serpents, I have nought
To repay this act of grace,
Save a heart whose love ne'er dies,
Throbbing with aye-youthful glow;


For a raging ETA 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 consumed," she'll say, "for me."

Book Of Hafis - The Unlimited

THAT thou can't never end, doth make thee great,
And that thou ne'er beginnest, is thy fate.
Thy song is changeful as yon starry frame,
End and beginning evermore the same;
And what the middle bringeth, but contains
What was at first, and what at last remains.
Thou art of joy the true and minstrel-source,
From thee pours wave on wave with ceaseless force.
A mouth that's aye prepared to kiss,


A breast whence flows a loving song,
A throat that finds no draught amiss,


An open heart that knows no wrong.


And what though all the world should sink!


Hafis, with thee, alone with thee


Will I contend! joy, misery,


The portion of us twain shall be;
Like thee to love, like thee to drink,--


This be my pride,--this, life to me!


Now, Song, with thine own fire be sung,--
For thou art older, thou more young!