Love is Enough
Love is enough: though the World be a-waning,
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,
And this day draw a veil over all deeds pass’d over,
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter;
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.
Invitation to the Voyage
My child, my sister,
Think of the rapture
Of living together there!
Of loving at will,
Of loving till death,
In the land that is like you!
The misty sunlight
Of those cloudy skies
Has for my spirit the charms,
So mysterious,
Of your treacherous eyes,
Shining brightly through their tears.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, peace, and pleasure.
Gleaming furniture,
Polished by the years,
Will ornament our bedroom;
The rarest flowers
Mingling their fragrance
With the faint scent of amber,
The ornate ceilings,
The limpid mirrors,
The oriental splendor,
All would whisper there
Secretly to the soul
In its soft, native language.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, peace, and pleasure.
See on the canals
Those vessels sleeping.
Their mood is adventurous;
It’s to satisfy
Your slightest desire
That they come from the ends of the earth.
—The setting suns
Adorn the fields,
The canals, the whole city,
With hyacinth and gold;
The world falls asleep
In a warm glow of light.
There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, peace, and pleasure.
—translated from the French by William Aggeler
from Sham’ u Parwana
Happy the lover in whose generous fancy
His heart is the moth of the candle of beauty.
There flutters a moth in his bosom each evening:
Night finds him candle-like with burning heart waking.
Through his grief his heart like a burnt moth is tattered,
Like a candle his skirt with his tears is watered.
One may set to his heart, like a lantern, a brand,
That enflames his whole bosom at touch of the hand.
Of a kindling let no living heart be bereft,
Of what use is a candle that unlit is left?
—translated from the Persian by Reuben Levy
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.
The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
Of Love’s Awakening
When I was yet a child,
A child Dorila too,
To gather there the flowerets wild,
We roved the forest through.
And gaily garlands then,
With passing skill displayed,
To crown us both, in childish vein,
Her little fingers made.
And thus our joys to share,
In such our thoughts and play,
We passed along, a happy pair,
The hours and days away.
But e’en in sports like these,
Soon age came hurrying by!
And of our innocence the ease
Malicious seemed to fly.
I knew not how it was,
To see me she would smile;
And but to speak to her would cause
Me pleasure strange the while.
Then beat my heart the more,
When flowers to her I brought;
And she, to wreathe them as before,
Seemed silent, lost in thought.
We saw two turtle-doves,
With trembling throat, who, wrapt in bliss,
Were wooing in their loves.
In manifest delight,
With wings and feathers bowed,
Their eyes fixed on each other bright,
They languished, moaning loud.
The example made us bold,
And with a pure caress,
The troubles we had felt we told,
Our pains and happiness.
And at once from our view
Then, like a shadow, fled
Our childhood and its joys, but new,
Love gave us his instead.
—translated from the Spanish by James Kennedy
Sudden Light
I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow’s soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time’s eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death’s despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?
Dark Night’s Moon
Bright moon rises over the ocean,
when joining with heaven in light, within the horizon;
When the hearts of lovers are fallen apart,
and long night’s darkness causes tender thoughts;
Though the candle light is blown and withered,
it is not darker, the grave of the night;
Though I wear a mantle over my heavy robe,
yet, the chilling dews make it no warmer;
Restlessly favoring a present, a trust, to the moon,
I return to sleep, yearning for dreams, excellent and sweet!
—translated from the Chinese by Ninaz Shadman
For a Marriage
Send to the prince’s daughter
Her ruddy, fair-eyed king,
Like a fruitful branch he blossoms,
Transplanted to a spring.
Thy Torah has his worship,
He runs, to taste its charms,
Before Thee like a warrior,
Accoutred in his arms.
I day by day am waiting
Salvation’s promised day,
Enquiring how and whence it
Will come to be my stay.
Restore the tortured People
To the friend of her youth divine,
And bring the two together
To the house of joy and wine.
—translated from the Hebrew by Israel Zangwill for the Jewish Publication Society of America
from The Fairy Queen
Great Venus! Queen of Beauty and of Grace!
The Joy of Gods and men! that under sky
Dost fairest shine, and most adorn thy place:
That, with thy smiling look, dost pacify
The raging seas, and mak’st the storms to fly;
Thee, Goddess! thee, the winds, the clouds, do fear:
And when thou spread’st thy mantle forth on high,
The waters play, and pleasant lands appear,
And heavens laugh, and all the world shows joyous cheer.
Then doth the dædale earth throw forth to thee
Out of her fruitful lap abundant flowers:
And then all living wights, soon as they see
The spring break forth out of his lusty bowers,
They all do learn to play the paramours;
First do the merry birds, thy pretty pages,
Privily picked with thy lustful powers,
Chirp loud to thee out of their leafy cages,
And thee their mother call to cool their kindly rages.
Then do the savage beasts begin to play
Their pleasant frisks, and loathe their wonted food;
The lions roar; the tigers loudly bray;
The raging bulls re-bellow through the wood,
And breaking forth, dare tempt the deepest flood
To come where thou dost draw them with desire.
So all things else, that nourish vital blood,
Soon as with fury thou dost them inspire,
In generation seek to quench their inward fire.
So all the world by thee at first was made,
And daily yet thou dost the same repair:
Ne ought on earth that merry is and glad,
Ne ought on earth that merry is and glad,
But thou the same for pleasure didst prepare.
Thou art the root of all that joyous is:
Great god of men and women, queen of the air,
Mother of laughter, and well-spring of bliss,
O grant that of my love at last I may not miss!
from The Prophet
All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.
When you love you should not say, ‘God is in my heart,’ but rather, ‘I am in the heart of God.’
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
Living Flame of Love
O living flame of love
That, burning, dost assail
My inmost soul with tenderness untold,
Since thou dost freely move,
Deign to consume the veil
Which sunders this sweet converse that we hold.
O burn that searest never!
O wound of deep delight!
O gentle hand! O touch of love supernal
That quick’nest life for ever,
Putt’st all my woes to flight,
And, slaying, changest death to life eternal!
And O, ye lamps of fire,
In whose resplendent light
The deepest caverns where the senses meet,
Erst steep’d in darkness dire,
Blaze with new glories bright
And to the lov’d one give both light and heat!
How tender is the love
Thou wak’nest in my breast
When thou, alone and secretly, art there!
Whispering of things above,
Most glorious and most blest,
How delicate the love thou mak’st me bear!
—translated from the Spanish by E. Allison Peers
from Love in the Valley
Under yonder beech-tree single on the green-sward,
Couched with her arms behind her golden head,
Knees and tresses folded to slip and ripple idly,
Lies my young love sleeping in the shade.
Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her,
Press her parting lips as her waist I gather slow,
Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me:
Then would she hold me and never let me go?
Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow,
Swift as the swallow along the river’s light
Circleting the surface to meet his mirrored winglets,
Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight.
Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-tops,
Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun,
She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer,
Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!
* * *
Hither she comes; she comes to me; she lingers,
Deepens her brown eyebrows, while in new surprise
High rise the lashes in wonder of a stranger;
Yet am I the light and living of her eyes.
Something friends have told her fills her heart to brimming,
Nets her in her blushes, and wounds her, and tames.—
Sure of her haven, O like a dove alighting,
Arms up, she dropped: our souls were in our names.
from Homeward Bound
Thou fairest fisher maiden,
Row thy boat to the land.
Come here and sit beside me,
Whispering, hand in hand.
Lay thy head on my bosom,
And have no fear of me;
For carelessly thou trustest
Daily the savage sea.
My heart is like the ocean,
With storm and ebb and flow,
And many a pearl lies hidden,
Within its depths below.
—translated from the German by Emma Lazarus
Song: To Celia
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon did’st only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me;
Since when it grows and smells, I swear.
Not of itself, but thee!
from Love Lyrics
To have seen her
To have seen her approaching
Such beauty is
Joy in my heart forever.
Nor time eternal take back
What she has brought to me.
—translated from the Ancient Egyptian by Ezra Pound and Noel Stock
Love’s Draft
The draft of love was cool and sweet
You gave me in the cup,
But, ah, love’s fire is keen and fleet,
And I am burning up.
Unless the tears I shed for you
Shall quench this burning flame,
It will consume me through and through,
And leave but ash—a name.
The Kiss Refused
I would kiss you, lover true!
But I fear the moon would spy;
Little bright stars watch us too.
Little stars might fall from sky
To the blue sea, telling all!
To the oars the sea will tell,
Oars, in turn, tell Fisher Eno—
Him whom Mary loveth well:
And when Mary knows a thing,
All the neighborhood will know;—
How by moonlight in the garden
Where the fragrant flowers grow,
I caressed and fondly kissed thee,
While the silver apple-tree
Shed its bloom on you and me!
—translated from the Russian by John Pollen
from The Crossing
I dwell upon your love
through the night and all
the day, through the hours
I lie asleep and when
I wake again at dawn.
Your beauty nourishes hearts.
Your voice creates desire.
It makes my body strong.
‘…he is weary …’
So may I say whenever …
There is no other girl
in harmony with his heart.
I am the only one.
—translated from the Ancient Egyptian by Barbara Hughes Fowler
The Meeting
We met among the furze in golden mist,
Watching a golden moon that filled the sky,
And there my lips your lips’ young glory kissed
Till old high loves, in our high love went by.
Then in the hush of plots with shining trees
We lay like gods disguised in shabby dress,
Making with birches, bracken, stars and seas,
Green courts of pleasure for each long caress;
Till there I found in you and you in me
The crowns of Christ and Eros—all divinity.