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IN thy sense an inmost solace
Do I taste, O Song, and pride! Tenderly thou seem'st to tell me, I'm not here, but at his side.
Thinking of me in the distance, -
Yes, my heart, it is the mirror,
Friend, on which thou art express'd, Where with kiss on kiss thy signet Thou art stamping through my breast.
Truth besung so clear and tender
The world-mirror Alexander pleases:
Leave it to him—for what does it show?
Many peaceful people, whom he seizes
Go no farther, thou, for strangeness roving! Sing to me old songs are all thine own: For I live, consider, I am loving,
Seize and conquer me alone!
The world throughout is dear to look upon,
No more on silken leaf
Do I write symmetric rhymes,
In the golden tendrils :
Scrawled within the mobile dust,
Winds obliterate, but the power remains,
Fastened on the ground
Down to the middle of the earth.
And the lover will come here,
Upon this spot, it will thrill him,
Through the limbs 'twill go
"Here! Before me loved the lover.
Was it Medschnun, the tender?
Ferhad the mighty? Dschemil the constant?
Or some one of those thousand
He loved! Like him I love,
Him I divine!"
But, Suleika, thou dost rest
Upon caressing cushion
I made ready for thee and adorned.
It will tremble through thy limbs, arouse thee, ""Tis Hatem - he is calling me.
I too call to thee, O Hatem! Hatem!"
ALL AND ONE.
thee a thousand forms may lend disguises,
To thee a thousand forms
Yet, All-Beloved, I distinguish thee;
Whatever magic veil before thee rises,
The youthful green upon the cypress striving,
When fountains lift, to many lines escaping,
All-reveller, what joy to notice thee!
When clouds unshape themselves with constant shaping, All-manifold, there too I notice thee.
Upon the meadow carpet, flower-spotted,
When on some Alp the kindling morn has halted,
Then, Heart-expander, then I breathe in thee.
Whate'er I know with outer sense, with inner, Thou All-imparting, that I know through thee; And if I name the hundred names of Allah, There echoes after each a name for thee.
BOOK OF THE CUP-BEARER.
THEREAT all hands extend
The slender-waisted cups to take:
A Prophet, Dionysus! Who is mad with wine
WINE of wine,
Blood of the world,
Form of forms, and mould of statures,
That I intoxicated,
And by the draught assimilated,
May float at pleasure through all natures;
The bird-language rightly spell,
And that which roses say so well.