Song -
Oh, sweet passer! I am fair,
For the lily scents my hair,
Made most redolent and glossy by the radiant roses' oil;
My ringed arms are dazzling white,
And my kiss is a delight,
While the sweet alhenna clusters burn my bosom while I toil.
Like my goddess, great Ishtar,
My black glance outshines a star,
And my form is warm and wavy, like the palm and the tamar;
I have sapphires and rare gems
On my mantle's scarlet hems,
And the unguents on my haunches come o'er deserts from afar.
I hold, hidden in my tent,
Drugs of love and ravishment,
And a bed where fragrant lilies lie with birdlings' downy plumes;
I hold passion and desire
To inspire love's sleepy fire,
And to stir the sullen pulses in soft aromatic glooms!
Till the midnight I will sing
Unto Nebo, the great king,
And my asor's gentle music will allay thy fevered rest;
Thou shalt slumber till my birds
Wake to hear my loving words,
While I press a thrice-born passion on the marble of my breast.
The pure night is waning fast;
Oh, my god Yem, unsurpassed!
Send me golden lovers many, ay, if only for a span!
And, oh passers wise and brave!
Be not tempted by yon slave,
For my kisses are far sweeter than the kisses of a man!
Then from the surging multitude one man,
A Hamathite, so reckoned by his beard,
Curly and redolent with sickening spice,
Spake to the attentive zonah and took gold,
Three golden pieces from his inner belt,
And went with her, while all the people laughed,
For he, a stranger, knew not that her kiss
Was purchasable for a silver bit.
And while they laughed an old man sauntered by,
Reeking with drugs and spices to the nails,
His ears were ringed with monstrous Hivite coins;
Great golden bracelets clasped his nervous arms;
His sandals were besprent with many pearls,
And his loose robes were woven of rustling things.
The people ceased all laughter, as a bird
Ceases to sing when arrows hurt the air,
And he, the white-haired, paused, and with a voice
Shrill as the sound of flinty rocks when rubbed,
Smiled through his colors and sang, even thus:
For the lily scents my hair,
Made most redolent and glossy by the radiant roses' oil;
My ringed arms are dazzling white,
And my kiss is a delight,
While the sweet alhenna clusters burn my bosom while I toil.
Like my goddess, great Ishtar,
My black glance outshines a star,
And my form is warm and wavy, like the palm and the tamar;
I have sapphires and rare gems
On my mantle's scarlet hems,
And the unguents on my haunches come o'er deserts from afar.
I hold, hidden in my tent,
Drugs of love and ravishment,
And a bed where fragrant lilies lie with birdlings' downy plumes;
I hold passion and desire
To inspire love's sleepy fire,
And to stir the sullen pulses in soft aromatic glooms!
Till the midnight I will sing
Unto Nebo, the great king,
And my asor's gentle music will allay thy fevered rest;
Thou shalt slumber till my birds
Wake to hear my loving words,
While I press a thrice-born passion on the marble of my breast.
The pure night is waning fast;
Oh, my god Yem, unsurpassed!
Send me golden lovers many, ay, if only for a span!
And, oh passers wise and brave!
Be not tempted by yon slave,
For my kisses are far sweeter than the kisses of a man!
Then from the surging multitude one man,
A Hamathite, so reckoned by his beard,
Curly and redolent with sickening spice,
Spake to the attentive zonah and took gold,
Three golden pieces from his inner belt,
And went with her, while all the people laughed,
For he, a stranger, knew not that her kiss
Was purchasable for a silver bit.
And while they laughed an old man sauntered by,
Reeking with drugs and spices to the nails,
His ears were ringed with monstrous Hivite coins;
Great golden bracelets clasped his nervous arms;
His sandals were besprent with many pearls,
And his loose robes were woven of rustling things.
The people ceased all laughter, as a bird
Ceases to sing when arrows hurt the air,
And he, the white-haired, paused, and with a voice
Shrill as the sound of flinty rocks when rubbed,
Smiled through his colors and sang, even thus:
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