Translation in Dublin
University
Magazine.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v28 - Songs, Hymns, Lyrics
Foozooli.
THE
TO AMÍNE, ON SEEING HER ABOUT TO VEIL HER MIRROR
VE
(Turkish)
EIL not thy mirror, sweet Amine,
Till night shall also veil each star:
Thou seest a two-fold marvel there,-
The only face as fair as thine,
The only eyes that near or far
Can gaze on thine without despair!
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
Foozooli.
* A preparation of opium.
## p. 16970 (#670) ##########################################
16970
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
LAMENT
(Turkish - Eleventh Century)
LIKE
IKE a cypress-tree,
Mateless in a death-black valley,
Where no lily springeth,
Where no bulbul singeth,
Whence gazelle is never seen to sally,
Such am I: Woe is me!
Poor, sad, all unknown,
Lone, lone, lone!
Like a wandering bee,
Alien from his hive and fellows,
Humming moanful ditties;-
Far from men and cities
Roaming glades which autumn rarely mellows,
Such am I: Woe is me!
Poor, sad, all unknown,
Lone, lone, lone!
Like a bark at sea,
All whose crew by night have perished,
Drifting on the ocean
Still with shoreward motion,
Though none live by whom Hope's throb is cherished,
Such am I: Woe is me!
Poor, sad, all unknown,
Lone, lone, lone!
So I pine and dree
Till the night that knows no morrow
Sees me wrapped in clay-vest:
Thou, chill world, that gavest
Me the bitter boon alone of Sorrow,
Give, then, a grave to me,
Dark, sad, all unknown,
Lone, lone, lone!
)
From the Firak-Nameh' (The Farewell Book) of
AHI, THE SIGHER.
## p. 16971 (#671) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16971
PASSAGE
(Arabian - Twelfth Century)
I
SEE not the strand,
For you all understand
That I pass for a mariner;
None can be barrener
Either of houses or land:
But I sail up and down a Red Sea;
For the wine that I lift to a lip
Rather given to curl in the way called derisive,
Whenever a brute is disposed to dispute
My pretensions to sip
Everlastingly, is, I've
A notion,
An ocean
To me and to all. jolly bibbers like me;
And the glass is my ship.
From the Kafwut-Nameh' (Book of Rubies).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine. Transcribed by
GHALIB.
TO MIRIAM, ON HER HAIR
(Arabian — Fifteenth Century)
E
THIOPIANS are thy locks:
In each hair
Lurks a snare
Worse than Afric's gulfs and rocks.
They who swear
By that hair
Swear the Koran's oath aright:
By the black Abyss of Night!
SELMAN.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
## p. 16972 (#672) ##########################################
16972
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
EPIGRAM
To YUSUF BEN ALI BEN YACOOB
I
(Arabian — Fifteenth Century)
WROTE, Y
is a wretched proser,
Though tolerable verse-composer:
But 'twas not thee I satirized;
And I confess I feel surprised
To see thee thus take fire like nitre;
For thou art wrong, and thou shouldst know it;
Thou art indeed a poor prose-writer,
But not a tolerable poet.
ScheichI II.
Surnamed DJAGHIDSHURDSHI.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
EPIGRAM
TO A FRIEND WHO HAD INVITED THE AUTHOR TO SUPPER, AND READ
TO HIM A BOOK OF HIS GHAZELS
(Arabian
Fifteenth Century)
TH
HINE entertainment, honest friend, had one insufferable fault, -
Too little salt was in thy songs, too much about thy meats and
salads:
In future show a better taste,- take from thy table half the salt,
And put it where 'tis wanted more, in thine insipid batch of bal-
lads.
DJESERI KASIM-PASHA,
Surnamed Safi, or The Speckless.
SAYING OF KEMALLEDIN KHOGENDI
(Persian — Fourteenth Century)
T"
He words of the wise and unknown, quoth Zehir, are buds in a
garden,
Which flower when summer is come, and are called for the
harem by girls;
Or drops of water, saith Sa'di, which silently brighten and harden,
Till khalifs themselves exclaim, They blind me, those dazzling pearls!
## p. 16973 (#673) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16973
SAYINGS OF DJELIM
(Arabian — Sixteenth Century)
Too was reared in Djelim's house; and thus his precepts run and
I
are:-
When Folly sells thee Wisdom's crown, 'tis idly gained and dearly
bought;
Oh! foremost man of all his race, born under some diviner star,
Who, early trained, self-reined, self-chained, can practice all that Lok-
man taught.
The joys and cares of earth are snares: heed lest thy soul too late
deplore
The power of sin to wile and win her vision from the Eight and Four.
Lock up thyself within thyself; distrust the stranger and the fair:
The fool is blown from whim to whim by every gust of passion's
gales.
Bide where the lute and song are mute; and as thy soul would shun
despair,
Avert thine eyes from woman's face when twilight falls and she
unveils.
Be circumspect; be watchmanlike: put pebbles in thy mouth each day:
Pause long ere thou panegyrize; pause doubly long ere thou condemn.
Thy thoughts are Tartars, vagabonds: imprison all thou canst not
slay,-
Of many million drops of rain perchance but one turns out a gem.
m th (Fazel-Nameh' (Book of Virtue) of
SCHINASI, or The Knowing One.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
LINES ON THE LAUNCHING OF THE BASH-TARDAH *
(Turkish)
(
“W
EIGH anchor ! » cried the Padishah,
“Quick! ere the day be a moment older,
And launch the peerless Bash-tardah!
No nobler vessel sails, or bolder. ”
Who hear the order must obey: they get the Proud One under way,
And along her dark-blue road she sweeps
The Jewel of the World - behold her!
* Bash-tardah, head-ship (an admiral's ship).
## p. 16974 (#674) ##########################################
16974
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
-
Walking the Bosphorus like a queen,
Unparalleled and uncontrolled, her
Green flag will centuries hence be seen
When kiosks and mosques and deereks* molder.
Let Venice's galleys menace now,- armed all and manned from poop
to prow:
There goes the empress of the seas!
The Jewel of the World,- behold her!
Long as her gallant mainīnast towers,
Long as the joyous waves uphold her,
So long her crew will dare the Giaours,
Will meet them shoulder up to shoulder,
Oh, the days of Selim t shall return — again the Moslem's breast shall
burn,
Pondering what Marmora was of yore,
When rich in such Our boast — behold her!
Cold is the Captain-Pasha's I lay:
But may his heart be even colder,
May his eyes and mouth be filled with clay,
And a winding-sheet be his enfolder,
When he shall see with heedless eye yon glorious pennon flout 'the
sky!
It is her pennon — there she goes!
The Jewel of the World, - behold her!
-
Author Unknown.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
DESCRIPTION OF MORNING
(Turkish -- Sixteenth Century)
A
NOTHER night is fled,
Another morning rises red;
The silver stars that twinkle
Through saffron curtains here and there
Gleam like the pearls that sprinkle
A virgin's golden hair.
* Pillars.
+ Selim I. , the ninth Sultan of the Ottoman Dynasty, and one of the most
victorious monarchs by sea and land, of modern times.
# The name of the author of this lay is unknown: be merely gives his title,
Kapudan-basah.
:
## p. 16975 (#675) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16975
New beams and brighter smile
Along the skies, and while
Aurora's colors clamber
The mountains of the dawn,
The sun, a globe of amber,
In silentness has drawn
Within his own warm sphere, as morn by morn he draws
Each glistening straw that strews the Way of Straws. *
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
EFFECTS OF LAZINESS
(Turkish - Sixteenth Century)
I
LEFT the fabric of my hopes to other hands to rear:
It fell; and then I wept for grief, and wondered at its fall.
Be wiser thou: One Hand hath framed the Universal All;
That wrought alone: do thou the same, or swift decay is near.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
TO MAILUKA
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
WE
HEN the misbelieving Guebre saw
Thy black locks and dazzling brow,
Wonder smote him to the soul, and awe.
Bilirim! † he cried: I now
See that God should be adored
For the darkness as the light;
Allah Akbar ! f God the Lord
Made not only day but night.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin' University Magazine.
* The Turks call the Milky Way Saaman Yoli, the Straw-Way.
+ Credo.
God is great.
## p. 16976 (#676) ##########################################
16976
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
TO RAYAB ANA SHEREHEMIZ, THE FEMALE TRAVELER
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
W" Nay
THAT! wandering still without a bound?
Nay, Rayab, this is worse than folly –
'Tis cruel, since o'er earth's wide round
Thy slaves must follow, fast or slowly:
If thou decline to stand thy ground
The world must turn pedestrian wholly,
Nor will one soul at rest be found
In Roumilee* or Anadoli. t
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
TO ZUREIDA
(Turkish-Sixteenth Century)
TY
HY waist many swear
Is the Region of Naught,
And they call thy loose hair
The Black Desert of Ghaut; 1
But persons of taste
Are content to declare
That thy hair is a waste,
While thy waist is a hair.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
OPINIONS NO PINIONS
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
H, - show — no vain triumph o'er thy neighbors !
O"- :
Ill — will — skill repay thy anxious labors
When — men — pen or form dislike of all.
* Roumelia or Romania: the Orientals spell it Rum-i-lee; with them it
sometimes stands for Hungary, sometimes for European Turkey, and some-
times, as here, for all Europe.
+ Asia (Anatolia).
† Karajaban Ghauti is the name of a fabulous desert to the north of the
fabulous Mountain of Kaf.
## p. 16977 (#677) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16977
Far
-
are
Keep - deep-sleep when Self and Pride are preaching !
More — soar — o'er the planets than are wise;
- star and sun beyond thy reaching;
Why-fly — high since clouds must wrap the skies?
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
ORTHODOXY, OR THE DOXY?
(Turkish-Sixteenth Century)
O*
NE day in catechizing me, the Khodja * asked me Whether
I could feel happy in a palace, living in idolatry:
I said, With her I worshiped, surely, though we dwelt together
Not underneath a palace roof, but in a cave or hollow tree.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
THE PANEGYRIC OF AMRAPOLAS, NEAR BRUSA
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
O
H, NEVER, never, since this world
Unfurled
Her banner,
And began her
Harmonious race, did Nature grace, did Fancy trace,
Elsewhere a place
So redolent of all delight
For sight
And soul as
Amrapolas!
Praised be her dales, her nightingales, her verdurous vales!
Praised be her gales,
Loaded with spicy perfumes rare;
Her fair
Mild evens,
Her blue heavens,
And those rich beams, like diamond-gleams, that light her streams,
Which poet's dreams
* Doctor of the Law.
XXVIII-1062
## p. 16978 (#678) ##########################################
16978
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
Of Paradise itself were faint
To paint
Elysian
As that vision!
Praised be her bright bland lakes of light, her noble night,
Begemmed and dight
With stilly hosts of traveling stars
In cars
All glancing
And advancing!
Praised be her dawn, when, night withdrawn, along the lawn
The playful fawn
Bounds with light heart and feet to meet
And greet
Day's dun light
Ere the sunlight
Gilds wave and shore and dances o'er the emerald floor
Of earth once more!
Praised be her soil, and hers alone!
I own
None other
For my Mother!
And oh! when drest in Death's pale vest, may Lamii rest
On her soft breast!
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
TROPHY TAKEN FROM LOVE
(Turkish - Sixteenth Century)
WF
OE is me! Since first I tasted
That rich cup of Love delicious
Sweetened by Gulnare,
I am grown so lean and wasted
She can draw me as she wishes
By a single hair.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
## p. 16979 (#679) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16979
HAROUN-AL-RASHID AND THE DUST
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
I
AM but dust, said Hassan, as he bowed
His face to earth abashed,
And in my Khalif's glance I flourish or I wither.
Since you are only dust, replied aloud
The great Haroun-Al-Rashid,
Be good enough to say what wind has blown you hither.
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
WHAT IS LOVE ?
(Turkish — Sixteenth Century)
W**
Hat is Love? I asked a lover;
Liken it, he answered, weeping,
To a flood unchained and sweeping
Over shell-strown grottoes, over
Beds of roses, lilies, tulips,
O'er all flowers that most enrich the
Garden, in one headlong torrent,
Till they show a wreck from which the
Eye and mind recoil abhorrent.
Hearts may woo hearts, lips may woo lips,
And gay days be spent in gladness,
Dancing, feasting, lilting, luting,
But the end of all is Sadness,
Desolation, Devastation,
Spoliation, and Uprooting!
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
## p. 16980 (#680) ##########################################
16980
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
EPIGRAM
(Turkish - Sixteenth Century)
G
-
ET silver ice, O jeweler, to cool thy golden wine;
It grows too fierce and heady:
So spake the guest. No, quoth his host, - this ruby, I opine,
Is cold enough already. *
LAMII (MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH).
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
FROM (BHANG U BADEH)
1
(Turkish)
AM Bhang,+ a magnificent name -
A globe of light - a pillar of flame-
A bridge of pearl — a dome of gold-
A guide to mysteries untold —
A talisman for young and old.
I am smooth as Iran's marble,
Green as Oman's glassy deep;
When I please I lull and warble
Shahs themselves to sleep.
Nobles flock to my ancient college,
From north and west, and the furthest distance,
For I alone give a lucid knowledge
Of Nature, Spirit, and Non-Existence.
My place is with the learned and solemn,
And where the student with clasped hands
Muses, like Medjnoon, i and stands
All day moveless as a column.
Statesmen reverence me and bless me;
Damsels fondle and caress me;
Kings and Kalenders combine
To honor Me, the Pure and Placid,
Knowing that, unlike to wine,
My sweetness never turns to acid:
* The four great tests of the ruby with Oriental jewelers are, its hardness,
lustre, specific gravity, and coldness.
| An intoxicating drink.
The hero of a celebrated romance by the Persian poet Nizami, and of
many other romances by Turkish imitators: he is said to have stood so long
rooted to the spot where he first beheld his beloved (Leila) that the birds
came and nested on his head. Medjnoon signifies love-crazed.
## p. 16981 (#681) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16981
For I am the seal of perpetual grace,
The mirror of truth, the key to fame,
And he who would find a resting-place
For his fainting soul in eternity's race,
Must fly to Me as the moth to the flame.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
Foozooli.
GHAZEL AND SONG
(Turkish)
UMMER yet
S“ Dazzling the dells with her sunbeamy tresses :
Here let us revel, defying excesses,
Sky-scalers - madcaps — with wine-wetted dresses!
Wine and the lute, amid roses and jesses, *
Make our earth Eden, as Hafiz confesses;
Sultans have troubles, but nothing depresses
Sky-scalers - madcaps - with wine-wetted dresses!
Man cannot live upon berries and cresses;
Life's is a banquet luxuriant in messes;
Deep let us drink while existence progresses,
Sky-scalers — madcaps — with wine-wetted dresses !
Naught will we know of past woes or successes;
Naught will we yield to but Pleasure's caresses;
Naught but the spirit of riot possesses
Sky-scalers — madcaps — with wine-wetted dresses !
Slaves, whom the load of the present oppresses,
Fools, who would fathom the future's recesses,
Kiss the goose, t all of ye! Nothing distresses
Sky-scalers — madcaps — with wine-wetted dresses!
Who shall hereafter (all fame retrogresses)
Know of Nihaun and his friends but by guesses ?
Deep let us drink, then, unfearing excesses,
Sky-scalers- madcaps — with wine-wetted dresses!
ABDALLAH NIHAUNI.
(Born in Constantinople. Ob. 1519. Buried at Mecca. )
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
* Jessamines.
A drinking-vessel shaped like a goose (in Turkish, Bat).
## p. 16982 (#682) ##########################################
16982
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
CAST NOT PEARLS BEFORE SWINE
(Turkish-Sixteenth Century)
F
AIREST in ten thousand, list and be admonished!
Walk not forth at evening: wherefore let thy light fall
Where none comprehend its wondrous loveliness?
Those thy beauty dazzles will be so astonished
When they see the sun thus shining after nightfall,
That they may arraign thee as a sorceress.
Rahiki, of Constantinople.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
TO MÄHRI
(Turkish-Sixteenth Century)
M
Y STARLIGHT, my moonlight, my midnight, my noonlight,
Unveil not, unveil not, or millions must pine.
Ah! didst thou lay bare
Those dark tresses of thine,
Even night would seem bright
To the hue of thy hair, which is black as despair.
My starlight, my moonlight, my midnight, my noonlight,
Unveil not, unveil not, or millions must pine:
Ah! didst thou disclose
Those bright features of thine,
The Red Vale * would look pale
By thy cheek, which so glows that it shames the rich rose.
My starlight, my moonlight, my midnight, my noonlight,
Unveil not, unveil not, or millions must pine:
Ah! didst thou lay bare
That white bosom of thine,
The bright sun would grow dun
Nigh a rival so rare and so radiantly fair!
My starlight, my moonlight, my midnight, my noonlight,
Unveil not, unveil not!
RAHIKI, of Constantinople.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
* Kuzzil Ragh, the Red Valley; in all probability the Valley of Roses at
Edreen.
## p. 16983 (#683) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16983
NIGHT IS NEARING
(Persian - Fifteenth Century)
AL
LLAH Akbar!
All things vanish after
brief careering:
Down one gulf life's myriad barks are steering;
Headlong mortal! hast thou ears for hearing ?
Pause! Be wise! The Night, thy Night, is nearing!
Night is nearing!
Allah Akbar!
Towards the darkness whence no ray is peering,
Towards the void from which no voice comes cheering,
Move the countless doomed – none volunteering –
While the winds rise and the night is nearing!
Night is nearing!
-
Allah Akbar!
See the palace-dome its pride uprearing
One fleet hour, then darkly disappearing!
So must all of Lofty or Endearing
Fade, fail, fall;- to all the night is nearing!
Night is nearing!
Allah Akbar!
Then, since naught abides, but all is veering,
Flee a world which Sin is hourly searing;
Only so mayst front thy fate unfearing
When life wanes, and death, like night, is nearing!
Night is nearing!
BABA KHODJEE.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
THE THANKSGIVING OF THE PHARISEE
(Turkish — Fifteenth Century)
1
GIVE God thanks for this, that I
Am no low slipper-licker's debtor:
If Heaven itself were not so high,
I scarce could bear to rest its debtor.
A Durweesh am I — naught beside:
I might be worse, and may be better;
## p. 16984 (#684) ##########################################
16984
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
But one thought swells my heart with pride,-
I am no man's tool and no man's debtor.
I am sleek and stout; my face is bright;
No cares corrode, no vices fetter
My cushioned soul; - I snore at night,
But never yet was opium's debtor.
I love the stars, the sun, the moon;
When Summer goes I much regret her:
But who holds Kaf or robs Karoon
I don't much care,- I'm not their debtor.
So writeth Mahmoud Fakrideed
In this his lay, or lilt, or letter;
Which he or she that runs may read,
And be therefor perchance his debtor.
By the DURWEESH FAKRIDEED of Klish.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
THE TIME OF THE BARMECIDES
(Arabian - Fourteenth Century)
*M'
Y EYES are filmed, my beard is gray,
I am bowed with the eight of years:
I would I were stretched in my bed of clay,
With my long-lost youth's compeers!
For back to the Past, though the thought brings woe,
My memory ever glides, -
To the old, old time, long, long ago-
The Time of the Barmecides !
To the old, old time, long, long ago -
The Time of the Barmecides.
Then youth was mine, and a fierce wild will,
And an iron arm in war,
And a fleet foot high upon Ishkar's hill
When the watch-lights glimmered afar,
* The Baramekee, or Barmecides, were the most illustrious of the Arabian
nobles for bospitality, intelligence, and valor. Their downfall, by means of court
intrigues, occurred in the reign of the great Haroun al-Rashid, about the be-
ginning of the ninth century.
## p. 16985 (#685) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16985
And a barb as fiery as any I know
That Khoord or Bedaween rides,
Ere my friends lay low - long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides,
Ere my friends lay low - long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides.
One golden djam * illumed my board,
One silver zhaunt was there;
At hand my tried Karamanian sword
Lay always bright and bare:
For those were days when the angry blow
Supplanted the word that chides,-
When hearts could glow — long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides,
When hearts could glow - long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides.
Through city and desert my mates and I
Were free to rove and roam,
Our canopy the deep of the sky,
Or the roof of the palace-dome;-
Oh, ours was that vivid life to and fro
Which only Sloth derides:
Men spent life so, long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides;
Men spent life so, long, long ago,
In the Time of the Barmecides.
I see rich Bagdad once agen,
With its turrets of Moorish mold,
And the Khalif's twice five hundred men, i
Whose binishes § flamed with gold;
I call up many a gorgeous show
Which the pall of oblivion hides, -
All passed like snow, long, long ago,
With the Time of the Barmecides;
All passed like snow, long, long ago,
With the Time of the Barmecides!
But mine eye is dim, and my beard is gray,
And I bend with the weight of years:
* Goblet.
Dish.
1 His body-guard.
& Cavalry cloaks.
## p. 16986 (#686) ##########################################
16986
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
May I soon go down to the House of Clay
Where slumber my youth's compeers!
For with them and the Past, though the thought wakes
woe,
My memory ever abides,
And I mourn for the times gone long ago,
For the Times of the Barmecides!
I mourn for the times gone long ago,
For the Times of the Barmecides!
uthor Unknown.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
GHAZEL: THE WORLD
(Turkish — Fifteenth Century)
T°
no this khan — and from this khan
How many pilgrims came - and went too!
In this khan - and by this khan
What arts were spent- what hearts were rent too!
To this khan and from this khan,
Which for penance Man is sent to,
Many a van and caravan
Crowded came and shrouded went too!
Christian man and Mosleman,
Guebre, Heathen, Jew, and Gentoo,
To this khan — and from this khan
Weeping came — and sleeping went too!
A riddle this since Time began
Which many a sage his mind hath bent to;
All came and went, but never man
Knew whence they came or where they went to!
KEMAL-OOMI.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
## p. 16987 (#687) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16987
DARK ASPÉCT AND PROSPECT
(Turkish-Sixteenth Century)
AM
H! CEASE to shroud the radiance of those cheeks,
Those eyes that pale the lightnings of the opal !
An eclipse of the sun for days and weeks
Forebodes disaster in Constantinople! *
ABDULKERIM.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
THE ARAB LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS
(Nile Song - Fifteenth Century) )
I
Thoq
HOU art the palm-tree of my desert,
and thy glance, so soft and bright,
Is the moonlight of my spirit
in its long and dreary night;
Only flower in my heart's deserted garden -
only well
In my life's wide, lonely wilderness
my gentle-eyed gazelle !
II
But the palm-tree waves in sunny
heights, unreached by sighs of mine,
And the moonlight has its mission first
on loftier brows to shine,
And a wealthier hand will cull that
flower - unseal that stainless spring:
May'st thou be happy! - even with him,
while lonę I'm wandering.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
* An allusion, probably, to the couplet of Salaheddin:-
Woe, woe to Stamboul when through many days
The midsummer sun shall be shorn of his rays!
## p. 16988 (#688) ##########################################
16988
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTER
(Nile Song * - Arabic)
THE MOTHER
Y DAUGHTER, 'tis time that thou wert wed:
Ten summers already are over thy head;
I must find you a husband, if under the sun
The conscript-catcher has left us one.
M
THE DAUGHTER
Dear mother, one husband will never do:
I have so much love that I must have two;
And I'll find for each, as you shall see,
More love than both can bring to me.
One husband shall carry a lance so bright:
He shall roam the desert for spoil by night;
And when morning shines on the tall palm-tree,
He shall find sweet welcome home with me.
The other a sailor bold shall be:
He shall fish all day in the deep blue sea;
And when evening brings his hour of rest,
He shall find repose on this faithful breast.
MOTHER
There's no chance, my child, of a double match,
For men are scarce and hard to catch;
So I fear you must make one husband do,
And try to love him as well as two.
Translation in Dublin University Magazine.
* Each verse is first sung by a single voice, the last two lines being given
in full chorus. The music is very gay.
## p. 16989 (#689) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16989
A Group of Indian Epigrams
Edited for the Library,' by Chas. R. Lanman, the translator
AN INDIAN NARCISSUS
THO
[It is a bit of genuinely Indian exaggeration that the flower-girl should be
fooled by supposing the reflection of her own blue eyes in the water to be real
lotuses. ]
HOU maiden fair, that by the lotus-pool
The dark-blue lilies gatherest,
There floats one beauty near thy hand.
Why pluck'st it not? why hesitating stand?
The reason I may guess:
The mirrored loveliness
Of thine own orbéd eyes of blue,
So lotus-like in shape and hue,
Full oft deceived thee.
“If thou’rt a blossom real,” sayst thou,
“I'll not believe thee. ”
SORRY CUPID'S MERRY-GO-ROUND
Ascribed to the poet Bhartri-hari, and said to be a recital of his own ex-
perience. Among the most notable recurrences of the same motif are those
found in an idyl of the Sicilian Moschos, and in Heine's (Buch der Lieder,
Lyrisches Intermezzo, No. 39.
Y SWEETHEART, ever in my thoughts, shows me indifference cold:
She loves a man, who unto yet another maid hath told
His love,- in vain; for I am loved by his most cruel she.
Fie, sweetheart, on you, on your man, on Love, on maid, on me!
M"
MAHATMA
F
ALLEN in evil case, thy courage wavereth not;
Thy work thou followest, heedful, resolute,
Neck to the yoke. Sorrow – when 'tis thy lot,
O lofty soul* — thou bearest till thy foes be mute.
*«Lofty soul is here the English for mahātma, whose proper connotation
differs toto cælo from that which it has for the modern «Theosophist. ”
## p. 16990 (#690) ##########################################
16990
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
DETACHMENT
F
ULL sudden fall the blows of sorrow deep.
The fresh-made wounds we hardly may endure,
They touch our vitals so. But courage keep!
Not brooding on them is the sovereign cure!
“WHEN I HAVE A CONVENIENT SEASON »
OM
N NAUGHT but play will happy childhood think;
The youth to blooming maid his love must bring;
And since old age in streams of care doth sink,
To sovran Brahm no mortal wight will cling.
SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI
T"
HOUSANDS of gods like Indra great,
Hundreds of kings of royal state,
Have seen, by Time's almighty hand,
Their glories so put out
As are the flames of lamps that stand
Where puffs the wind about.
FROM THE (GARLAND OF QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS)
Q.
W*47
HAT lack I yet? what for my soul remaineth
To know, that all these longings then may cease ?
A. Salvation, wherein simplest soul attaineth
The knowledge that doth end in perfect peace.
Q. What must I know, the which when comprehending,
Their secret thought from all the worlds I wrest ? *
A.
On all-embracing Brahm thy spirit bending,
That know, Prime Form of Being, Manifest.
* Faust:-
Dass ich erkenne, was die Welt
Im Innersten zusammenbält.
## p. 16991 (#691) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16991
(WORK OUT YOUR SALVATION WITH HEEDFULNESS »
(BUDDHA'S DYING WORD)
UME
NHEEDFULNESS, – that is the worst of foes;
Unheedfulness, of poisons all, most fell:
It is the path to hell and death that goes;
The robber at salvation's citadel.
THE LETTER KILLETH
OME men do read the Vedas four,
And many a book of sacred lore,
And know their spirit, by my troth,
As ladle knows the taste of broth.
S
SHAM ADMIRATION IN LITERATURE
NOT
or every poem's good because it's ancient,
Nor mayst thou blame it just because it's new.
Fair critics test, and prove, and so pass judgment;
Fools praise or blame as they hear others do.
REALITIES
IN
N EVERY wood upon the trees there grow
Fruits easy pluckt, thy hungry mouth to fill;
In every place the purest brooks do flow,
Whose waters cool and sweet thy thirst would still;
And on their banks the softest couch is laid,
From tender shoots of lovely creepers made.
Food, drink, and bed! - Why, wretched fool, for more
Wilt serve or toady at some rich man's door ?
WISDOM IS BETTER THAN RUBIES
I
N ALL the world there are but jewels three:
Water, and rice, and wisdom's precious word.
The fool, when asked how many jewels he
May own, of precious stones doth count his hoard.
## p. 16992 (#692) ##########################################
16992
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
THE SENSES
MAN is like a water-skin :*
Wisdom, like water, is within.
Five wretched senses man do cumber:
Four legs and neck are five in number.
A
If even one its tightness lose,
All water from the bag will ooze:
If of one sense man lose control,
All wisdom oozeth from his soul.
USE AND WASTE
F"
IE on that huinan being's life, I cried,
That's bare of service to his fellows done!
Hurrah for cattle! for at least their hide
Will serve for leather when their life is run.
« I WERE BUT LITTLE HAPPY IF I COULD SAY HOW MUCH »
(
»
"S"
WEET love,” I asked her, from my journey far
Now home returning, “Is it well with thee? ”
No word she spake: her ly answer this,-
That her two eyes all brimming with her tears
Love's story told and nothing left unsaid.
THE LOST HEART
E-
H*
Remember me, O lady-love, pray I.
She — I'll have no memory, sir, for thee, say I.
He – Remembrance is a duty of the heart.
She — But mine is stolen: thou the robber art.
(“Where beauty moves and wit delights,
And sighs of kindness bind me,-
There, oh there, where'er I go,
I leave my heart behind me. ”)
* Sce Century Dictionary, under «bottle,” for illustration of water-skin.
## p. 16993 (#693) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16993
“FULL MANY A FLOWER IS BORN TO BLUSH UNSEEN »
O
JASMINE-BLOOM, thy cheek no fragrant zephyr
Did ever kiss; nor e'er did honey-drinker
Thy nectar sip. A rough bough hid thy petals.
Fled is thy beauty to the realm of change.
0 COTTON-TREE!
O
COTTON-TREE! far from the road thou standest.
Thou art so thorny! and no shade thou yieldest.
E'en apes do scorn thy fruit. No perfume hast thou,
So that the bees, the honey-drinkers, shun thee. *
O cotton-tree! thou art so void of goodness,
'Twere bootless we should visit thee. We pray thee,
Stand where thou art,
And let us sigh and pass.
SOLID SOMETHING
HO solid learning, solid wit,
Courage, and solid character, -
Or solid ducats hath at hand, -
E'en gods do wait on his command!
W
SEF
JUST MY LUCK
EE I a dog? there's ne'er a stone to throw!
Or stone ? there's ne'er a dog to hit, I trow!
Or if at once both stone and dog I view -
It is the king's dog! Damn! what can I do?
THE FIVE DOUBLE U'S
INSOMENESS, wardrobe, words of eloquence,
Wisdom, and wealth, bring men to consequence.
That's something which a man in vain pursues
Who is not blest with these five w's. +
W"
* The road through the Indian Hell is foul with the stench of the rotting
corpses sinners; it passes rivers of boiling water, jars of boiling oil, and
plains of white sand exceeding hot, and is beset with cotton-trees (Mabā-
bhārata, xviii. 2, 17 pp. ).
+ The Sanskrit word for each of these five things begins with w.
XXVIII—1063
## p. 16994 (#694) ##########################################
16994
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
DEATH BETTER THAN POVERTY
A
(
POOR man to a grave-yard went with speed,
And to a corpse he spake that rested there:*
“Ho, rise, friend, quick! one moment help me bear
My heavy load of poverty and need.
Tired am I now. Long do I yearn to see
The quiet ease that death hath brought to thee. "
The corpse bethought himself
« Full well I know
Death's yoke is easy,
Poverty's not so. ”
Never a word spake he.
THE METEMPSYCHOSIS
(1)
F:
OR one brief hour we tarry with our loves.
The wheel of birth and death, aye whirling, moves
Round the long paths from primal naught to Brahm's abode.
We joy to give those loves the name of “brother,"
Of “friend,” perhaps, of “father,” or of “mother. ”
Alas! they're chance acquaintance met upon the road.
THE METEMPSYCHOSIS
а
(11)
[It is still a familiar sight in a German village to see the women go to the
public fountain to fetch water, and stop for a while to gossip with their neigh-
bors. To such a stop is the span of human life likened. )
HORT time we bide together here below,
Like maids that to the village fountain go:
By fate unto one meeting-place we're led;
By Karma then forever sunderèd.
S"
* In the (Frogs) of Aristophanes (172-177), Dionysos asks a corpse to carry
some baggage to Hades; but tries to beat him down on the price from two
drachma (12 obols) to nine obols. The corpse makes answer, I'd sooner
come to life again. ” Mr. James Russell Lowell told my colleague, Professor
Goodwin, that he considered this «the best joke of antiquity. ”
## p. 16995 (#695) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16995
ΦΩ ΝΑ ΝΤΑ ΣΥΝΕΤOΙΣΙΝ *
[THE OCEAN Shows A TIDE, BUT A PUDDLE Does Nor]
The
he moon's bright rays to flood will swell
The boundless ocean's breast; †
And though on springs she casts her spell.
Unmoved their waters rest.
Some touch of greatness there must be
In common 'twixt the moon and sea.
And so it is with poets' work,
And men of common mind:
Their souls need first thy spirit's touch,
O poesy divine!
HIDE AND SEEK
HIDE myself behind a tree;
Wilhelm seeks his little dove -
Seeks in vain, then gayly cries,
«Where art thou hidden, darling ? ”
I
I give no answer: on he goes,
Searching every leafy bush
Seeks in vain, then gravely cries,
“Where art thou hidden, Esther ? »
Still no answer: now he fumes,
Will no longer seek for me-
“Nay, if thou wilt not show thyself,
I'll leave thee, foolish maiden!
Then he marches off in scorn:
Out I creep and follow him,
Mimicking his stately steps,
And smiling at his answer.
Now he stops and looks behind,
Sees me, clasps me to his breast
Foolish maiden now no more,
Nor Esther, but sweet darling!
Saxon.
* Vocal to those that understand them.
+ The ocean is called the “Boundless. )
## p. 16996 (#696) ##########################################
16996
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
SONG OF THE TONGA-ISLANDERS
COS
OME to Licoö! the sun is riding
Down hills of gold to his coral bowers;
Come where the wood-pigeon's moan is chiding
The song of the wind, while we gather flowers.
Let us plait the garland, and weave the chi,
While the wild waves dance on our iron strand;
To-morrow these waves may wash our graves,
And the moon look down on a ruined land.
Let us light the torches, and dip our hair
In the fragrant oil of the sandal-tree;
Strike the bonjoo, and the oola share,
Ere the death-gods hear our jubilee.
Who are they that in floating towers
Come with their skins of curdled snows?
They shall see our maidens dress our bowers,
While the hooni shines on their sunny brows.
Who shall mourn when, red with slaughter,
Finow sits on the funeral stone ?
Who shall weep for his dying daughter ?
Who shall answer the red chief's moan?
He shall cry unheard by the funeral stone,
He shall sink unseen by the split canoe,
Though the plantain-bird be his alone,
And the thundering gods of Fanfonnoo.
Let us not think 'tis but an hour
Ere the wreath shall drop from the warrior's waist;
Let us not think 'tis but an hour
We have on our perfumed mats to waste.
Shall we not banquet, though Tonga's king
To-morrow may hurl the battle-spear?
Let us whirl our torches and tread the ring,–
He only shall find our footprints here.
We will dive, — and the turtle's track shall guide
Our way to the cave where Hoonga dwells,
Where under the tide he hides his bride,
And lives by the light of its starry shells.
## p. 16997 (#697) ##########################################
SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS
16997
Come to Licoö! in yellow skies
The sun shines bright, and the wild waves play:
To-morrow for us may never rise; -
Come to Licoö, to-day, to-day.
Author Unknown.
KULNASATZ, MY REINDEER
A LAPLAND SONG
K
ULNASATZ, my reindeer,
We have a long journey to go:
The moors are vast,
And we must haste.
Our strength, I fear,
Will fail, if we are slow;
And so
Our songs will do.
Kaigè, the watery moor,
Is pleasant unto me,
Though long it be,
Since it doth to my mistress lead,
Whom I adore.
The Kilwa moor
I ne'er again will tread.
Thoughts filled my mind,
Whilst I through Kaigè passed
Swift as the wind,
And my desire
Winged with impatient fire;-
My reindeer, let us haste!
So shall we quickly end our pleasing pain -
Behold my mistress there,
With decent motion walking o'er the plain.
Kulnasatz, my reindeer,
Look yonder where
She washes in the lake!
