The one who dazzles - have you seen that one ?
Upon him look !
A sleepless stream in search of him I run,
A restless brook.
In far off woods, a lonely pine I stood
Till he appeared,
My woodcutter, and came to cut the wood.
His fire I feared,
Yet though he burn my logs, behold I shine,
My ashes wine !
The world its Ramadan will end,
The lover's Id,
The feast of love, O call him, friend!
For love is Id.
But love has melted me like snow,
A waterfall,
As restless as the summer streams
I sleepless go !
O, call him gently, friend, O call !
With wreaths and dreams
I carry wine to Dara's peaks'
The world below.
And yet he roams in distant vales,
New wine he seeks !
If he comes not, the jasmine pales,
And I, and all !
Rain has come , and fields and fruit trees sing,
Spring has come , and Love , the Lord of Spring,
Dandelions have lifted up their faces,
Cold has gone and every wintry thing !
Forget-me-not the forest graces,
Iris and the lily spring will bring.
Gather violets, O Narcissus,
Winter's ashes from our door I fling !
The water bird the lake embraces,
How can frost upon your petals cling ?
Meadows I cover with
flowers for you,
Come, my lover of flowers!
Come, let me gather fresh jasmine for you,
Never return these hours!
Lilacs have bloomed by the river for you,
Deeply the world is asleep,
Still, though, no answer has reached me from you,
Garlands of green I keep.
What if they speak only evil of me ?
Who has been able to change destiny ?
Come, my lover of flowers !
In henna I have dyed my hands,
When will he come ?
I die, while he roams distant lands,
My heart is numb!
O, where is now the day's delight ?
I've waited long.
The golden wine cups of the night
To him belong !
The ritual of love is sweet,
Could I adorn
My love with jewels, perfume his feet,
Be no more torn,
Anoint him with my fragrant kiss,
Love, for your sake,
The lotus of my heart in bliss
Would block the lake !
Wild, the vagrant yellow rose
Again has bloomed,
Beauty has in all that grows
Rare forms assumed!
Where, O love, your hiding place ?
I wander far,
Seeking you among the streams
The dew-drops pour.
Jasmine in the forest gleams,
But where your face ?
Violets bloom for me to trace
To where you are.
I left my home for
play
Nor yet again
Returned, although the day
Sank in the West.
The name I made is hailed
On lips of men,
Habba Khatun ! though veiled,
I found no rest.
Through crowds I found my way,
From forests, then,
The sages came, when day
Sank in the West.
