love poem

Ho, parrot, thou Love's mysteries That utt'rest still,
God grant that sugar never lack Unto thy bill!

Green be thy head and glad thy heart For evermore!
Since well the Friend's down limned for us Is by thy skill.

Friends with hard sayings thou bespeak'st For heaven's sake,
Unravel thou this maze, that all May read who will!

Upon our faces, drowsed with sleep, O Fortune wake,
Somewhat of rosewater from out The goblet spill!

What tune was this the minstrel smote Upon the strings,

In the heaven, O Loved One, sound thy flute again.
From the whirlpool's depth let no eddies swirl: to my eyes apply the salve.
The flute, that charmed gods, men and munis, make me to hear thy flute, O Loved One.
Come, bring the key, undo the lock: reveal to me thy beauteous form.
Dharm Das prays with clasped hands: Set me behind thy lotus feet.

Drink the cup — inebriate thy soul: the cup of the nectar of Hari's love.

Childhood was lost in play and laughter: in youth woman enslaved thee.
In age phlegm and vapours beset thee: thy body thou couldst not stir one inch.

Thou didst not frequent the company of Sants, nor seek out lesson or hymn: nor didst thou fix thy love on the feet of the Lord.
Yet even now take thought and understand, O foolish: in this world there is none thine own.

Lust, anger, pride, coveting and envy: night and day thou remainest in their toils.

I

She is slim and supple and not yet fourteen,
The young spring-tip of a cardamon-spray.
On the Yang-chou Road for three miles in the breeze
Every pearl-screen is open. But there's no one like her.

II

How can a deep love seem deep love,
How can it smile, at a farewell feast?
Even the candle, feeling our sadness,
Weeps, as we do, all night long.

A DIRGE

I.

Blyth days are gane
And on comes winter weary O,
Wi' the lang nichts and cauld
Aye sae eerie
For them lie their lane.

II.

Snaw haps the hills —
The leafless woods are dreary O,
And the sma' birds that sing
And would cheer me,
Nae mair gie their trills.

III.

Cauld, cauld and blae

I.

O would some fortune favour thee
To my desire, to my desire;
I 'd wish for thee a heart at ease
From gnawing fire, from gnawing fire.
For discontent howe'er divine
Its passion be, its passion be,
To human kind 'tis bitter care —
I 'd shield it thee, I 'd shield it thee.

II.

O may thy life in gentle ways
Run smoothly on, run smoothly on,
And thy dear hand be helping still

" Oh, where have you been, my bonny lad? "
" Oh, I have been up at the fair, my boys,
With a hack to sell,
And I cheated a swell,
And all for the love of the Gipsy boys! "

" Oh, where have you been, my pretty maid? "
" Oh, I have been up at the town, my boys;
And a fortune I've told,
And this chicken behold,
Which I stole for the love of the Gipsy boys! "

" Oh, where have you been, old mother, to-day? "
" Oh, I have been up at the farm, my boys;
And I needn't say how
I poisoned a sow,

The love of black-eyed maids, indeed, Forth of my pate will nowise go;
This is heav'n's ordinance and it On other gate will nowise go.

The spy stirred trouble up and strife And left no place for peace-making:
Sure, the dawn-risers' sighs unheard At heaven's gate will nowise go!

Time Unbegun, no lot to me, But that of toping, They ordained:
Each earthly lot, save as that day Foreordinate, will nowise go.

A privy place and ruby wine, A loving friend to cupbearer;
It better, heart, for thee, than this Thy now estate, will nowise go.

Lakka-trees ripen two by two
And mandarin-ducks die side by side.
If a true-hearted girl will love only her husband,
In a life as faithfully lived as theirs,
What troubling wave can arrive to vex
A spirit like water in a timeless well?

I saw a damsel in a sombre room,
Laid low in beds of purple violet,
And pale, sweet roses scenting all the gloom;
And then I thought, This is a gray sunset
Of days of loving life. Shall he who stands
Beside her bier, in sorrow for his love,
Be first in Heaven to clasp her gentle hands
To bow with her before the Lord above?

If love can die, let my heart be as cold
As Galatea's was before the words