Stars of the Desert. Adela Florence Cory Nicolson
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work of turning the waterwheel,
And the sun, reluctant, lingered about the tree-tops
In a golden mist of farewell.
Many the tears that have fallen since,
Many the nights that have passed,
But I remember
The River of Pearls at Fez
And Seomar whom I loved.
Syed Amir
Syed amir is dead, and his numerous foes
Are hushed in a breathless awe of amazed relief.
The hearts of his friends are cold as the Tirah snows,
And I am blind and deaf in the Grip of my Grief.
My Soul has borrowed a portion of Pain from Hell.
Oh, Syed Amir, my Brother and Friend, Farewell!
His women weep, but a woman's tears flow lightly.
A bauble or two, or a child, can soon console.
But I, who am strange to tears, lie sleepless, nightly,
Feeling the Fangs of Grief in my desolate soul.
I maddened myself with Churus, it could not cure me— Ransacked the Bazar, to beg at the hands of lust An hour's respite, but how was sin to allure me, Who know the beauty of Syed Amir is dust? A little while I wander in Tribulation, In a Feud or two, or a few light loves take part, But Death will come, and this is my Consolation, Men live not long with a stricken and wounded heart. What further challenge from Fate can I hope or fear, Who mourn the ruined glory of Syed Amir?
All gifts were Syed Amir's; an Arrestive Beauty
That caught men's breath when he passed, Serene and Royal,
A clear and delicate Mind, where Honour and Duty,
Sentried the gate, that nothing might pass disloyal,
And these are taken from Khorassan for ever,
Their light is quenched in the land where he used to dwell,
But I, who loved him, cease from loving him never,
Oh, Syed Amir, my Brother and Friend, Farewell!
Au Salon
A sky intensely blue, a low, white wall
Against it heaps of up-blown yellow sand,
A sleeping figure, holding in her hand
Some scarlet cactus blossom; that was all.
And yet so mellowly the sunbeams fell
Upon the sunburnt limbs, such subtle play
Of rosy light and tender shadow lay
Upon the upturned face, that all could tell
An artist painted with a poet's eyes;
And warmly an enthusiastic glow
Ran through the groups that criticised below
While one, who gazed with pleasure and surprise
Said, and I do not think he said amiss,
"He was her lover when he painted this!"
The Lute Player of Casa Blanca
No others sing as you have sung
Oh, Well Beloved of me!
So glad you are, so lithe and young,
As joyous as the sea,
That dances in the golden rain
The falling sunbeams fling—
Ah, stoop and kiss me once again
Then take your lute and sing.
Oh, Lute player, my Lute player,
Take up your lute and sing!
The wind comes blowing, light and free:
In all the summer isles
No laughing thing it found to see
As brilliant as your smiles.
You are the very heart of Youth,
The very Soul of Song,
That lovely dream, made living truth,
For which the poets long.
Oh, Lute player, my Lute player,
The very Soul of Song!
Ah, dear and dark-eyed Lute player
This joy is almost pain,
To reach, when evening cools the air,
Your level roof again.
To see the palms, erect and slim,
Against a golden sky,
And hear, as twilight closes dim,
The Mouddin's mournful cry,
Across your songs, my Lute player,
The Faithful's evening cry.
Each slender finger lightly slips,
To its appointed strings,
Ah, the sweet scarlet, parted lips
Of One Beloved, who sings!
Ah, the soft radiance of eyes
By love and music lit!
What need of Heaven beyond the skies
Since here we enter it?
You make my Heaven, my Lute player,
And hold the keys of it!
And when the music waxes strong
I hear the sound of War,
The drums are throbbing in the song,
The clamour and the roar.
The Desert's self is in the strain,
The agony of slaves,
The winds that sigh, as if in pain,
About forgotten graves,
Oh, Lute player, my Lute player,
Those lonely Desert graves!
The sightless sockets, whence the eyes,
Were wrenched or burnt away,
The mangled form that e'er it dies,
Becomes the jackals' prey,
The forced caress, the purchased smile,
Ere youth be yet awake—
Ah, break your melody awhile
Or else my heart will break!
I sometimes think, my Lute player,
You wish my heart to break!
The sunset fires desert the West,
The stars invade the sky,