The Garden of Bright Waters - LightNovelsOnl.com
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A CONCEIT
I hide my love, I will not say her name.
And yet since I confess I love, her name is told.
You know that if I love It must be ... Whom?
_From the Arabic of Ebn Kalakis Abu El Fath Nasrallah (eleventh century)._
VALUES
Since there is excitement In suffering for a woman, Let him burn on.
The dust in a wolf's eyes Is balm of flowers to the wolf When a flock of sheep has raised it.
_From the Arabic._
WHAT LOVE IS
Love starts with a little throb in the heart, And in the end one dies Like an ill-treated toy.
Love is born in a look or in four words, The little spark that burnt the whole house.
Love is at first a look, And then a smile, And then a word, And then a promise, And then a meeting of two among flowers.
_From the Arabic._
THE DANCING HEART
When she came she said: You know that your love is granted, Why is your heart trembling?
And I: You are bringing joy for my heart And so my heart is dancing.
_From the Arabic of Urak El Hutail._
THE GREAT OFFENCE
She seemed so bored, I wanted to embrace her by surprise; But then the scalding waters Fell from her eyes and burnt her roses.
I offered her a cup....
And came to paradise....
Ah, sorrow, When she rose from the waves of wine I thought she would have killed me With the swords of her desolation....
Especially as I had tied her girdle With the wrong bow.
_From the Arabic of Abu Nuas (eighth century)._
AN ESCAPE
She was beautiful that evening and so gay....
In little games My hand had slipped her mantle, I am not sure About her skirts.
Then in the night's curtain of shadows, Heavy and discreet, I asked and she replied: To-morrow.
Next day I came Saying, Remember.
Words of a night, she said, to bring the day.
_From the Arabic of Abu Nuas (eighth century)._
THREE QUEENS
Three sweet drivers hold the reins, And hold the places of my heart.
A great people obeys me, But these three obey me not.
Am I then a lesser king than love?
_From the Arabic of Haroun El Raschid (eighth century)._
HER NAILS
She is as wise as Hippocrates, As beautiful as Joseph, As sweet-voiced as David, As pure as Mary.
I am as sad as Jacob, As lonely as Jonah, As patient as Job, As unfortunate as Adam.
When I met her again And saw her nails Prettily purpled, I reproached her for making up When I was not there.
She told me gently That she was no coquette, But had wept tears of blood Because I was not there, And maybe she had dried her eyes With her little hands.
I would like to have wept before she wept; But she wept first And has the better love.
Her eyes are long eyes, And her brows are the bows of subtle strong men.
_From the Arabic of Yazid Ebn Moauia (seventh century)._
