FROM THE PERSIAN OF ACHMED ARDEBEILI.
SAY, ye studious, grave and old,
Tell me, all ye fair and gay, Tell me, where I may behold
The fleeting forms of Yesterday?
Where's autumnal plenty sped?
Winter, where's thy boisterous sway? Where's the vernal floweret fled? Summer, where's thy Yesterday?
Jocund sprites of social joy
Round our smiling goblet play;
Flit, ye powers of rude annoy,
Like the ghost of Yesterday?
Odorous sweets, and Kerzerom wine,
Hither, boy, with speed convey;
Jasmin wreaths with roses twine,
Ere they fade like Yesterday.
Brim the bowl, and pass it round;
Lightly tune the sportive lay:
Let the festal hour be crown'd,
Ere 'tis lost like Yesterday.
FROM THE TURKISH OF MESIHI.
HEAR! how the nightingales, on every spray, Hail, in wild notes, the sweet return of May; The gale that o'er yon waving almond blows The verdant bank with silver blossoms strows;
The smiling season decks each flowery glade.
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
What gales of fragrance scent the vernal air!
Hills, dales, and woods, their loveliest mantles
wear!
Who knows what cares await that fatal day,
When ruder gusts shall banish gentle May?
E'en Death, perhaps, our valleys will invade.
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
The tulip now its varied hue displays,
And sheds, like Ahmed's eye, celestial rays.
Oh, nation ever faithful, ever true,
The joys of youth, while May invites, pursue!
Will not these notes your timorous minds persuade?
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
The sparkling dewdrops o'er the lilies play,
Like orient pearls, or like the beams of day.
If love and mirth your wanton thoughts engage,
Attend, ye nymphs! a poet's words are sage;
While thus you sit beneath the trembling shade
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
The fresh blown rose like Zeineb's cheek appears,
When pearls, like dewdrops, glitter in her ears.
The charms of youth at once are seen and pass'd:
And nature says, 'They are too sweet to last.'
So blooms the rose; and so the blushing maid.
Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
See! yon anemones their leaves unfold,
With rubies flaming and with living gold.
While crystal showers from weeping clouds de-
Enjoy the presence of thy tuneful friend: [scend,
Now, while the wines are brought, the sofa's laid,
Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
The plants no more are dried, the meadows dead,
No more the rosebud hangs her pensive head:
The shrubs revive in valleys, meads, and bowers,
And every stalk is diadem'd with flowers;
In silken robes each hillock stands array'd.
Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
Clear drops, each morn, impearl the rose's bloom,
And from its leaf the zephyr drinks perfume;
The dewy buds expand their lucid store:
Be this our wealth: ye damsels, ask no more.
Though wise men envy, and though fools upbraid,
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
The dewdrops, sprinkled by the musky gale,
Are changed to essence ere they reach the dale.
The mild blue sky a rich pavilion spreads,
Without our labour, o'er our favour'd heads.
Let others toil in war, in arts, or trade;-
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
Late, gloomy winter chill'd the sullen air,
Till Soliman arose, and all was fair.
Soft in his reign, the notes of love resound,
And pleasure's rosy cup goes freely round.
Here on the bank, which mantling vines o'ershade,
Be gay too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
May this rude lay from age to age remain,
A true memorial of this lovely train.
Come, charming maid! and hear thy poet sing,
Thyself the rose, and he the bird of spring;
Love bids him sing, and Love will be obey'd.
Be gay: too soon the flowers of spring will fade.
FROM THE SANSCRIT OF CALIDASA.
A demigod, who was a servant of the Hindu God of Wealth, Cuvera, having offended his lord, was punished by twelve months banishment from his home aud wife. At the period of the opening of the poem, he is supposed to have passed eight months in solitary seclusion. At the commencement of the rainy season he addresses himself to one of the clouds which was moving towards his late residence, and desires it to waft his sorrows to a beloved and regretted wife.
-To the inner mansion bend thy sight,
Diffusing round a mild and quivering light;
As when through evening shades soft flashes play,
Where the bright fire-fly wings his glittering way.
There in the fane a beauteous creature stands,
The first best work of the Creator's hands;
Whose slender limbs inadequately bear
A full orbed bosom and a weight of care; [show,
Whose teeth like pearls, whose lips like Bimbas*
And fawnlike eyes still tremble as they glow.
Lone as the widow'd Chacraváci mourns +,
Her faithful memory to her husband turns,
And sad and silent shalt thou find my wife,
Half of my soul, and partner of my life;
Nipp'd by chill sorrow as the flowers enfold
Their shrinking petals from the withering cold.
* The bimba bears a red fruit.
+ This bird, in the poetry of the Hindoos, is their turtle dove, for constancy and connubial affection, with the singular circumstance of the pair being doomed for ever to nocturnal separation, for having offended one of the Hindu divinities.
I view her now! long weeping swells her eyes, And those dear lips are dried by parching sighs; Sad on her hand her pallid cheek declines,
And half unseen through veiling tresses shines; As when a darkling night the moon enshrouds, A few faint rays break straggling through the clouds.
Now at thy sight I mark fresh sorrow flow, And sacred sacrifice augments her woe*; I mark her now, with fancy's aid, retrace This wasted figure and this haggard face; Now from her favourite bird she seeks relief, And tells the tuneful sárica + her grief, Mourns o'er the feather'd prisoner's kindred fate, And fondly questions of its absent mate.
In vain the lute for harmony is strung,
And round the robe-neglected shoulder slung;
And falling accents strive to catch, in vain,
Our race's old commemorative strain:
The faltering tear, that from reflection springs,
Corrodes incessantly the silvery strings;
Recurring woe still pressing on the heart,
The skilful hand forgets its grateful art,
And idly wandering strikes no measured tone,
But wakes a sad wild warbling of its own.
At times such solace animates her mind
As widow'd wives in cheerless absence find;
* The sacrifice to be performed to render the gods propitious; or a sacrifice usually performed by women at the beginning of the rainy season.
+ A small bird, better known by the name of maina. It is represented as a female, while the parrot is described as a male bird; and as these two have, in all Hindu tales, the faculty of human speech, they are constantly introduced, the one inveighing against the faults of the male sex, and the other exposing the defects of the female.
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