I marvel at its pressers, how they died * And left us aqua vitae—lymph of life!
And yet goodlier is the saying of Abu Nowas:—
Cease then to blame me, for thy blame doth anger bring * And with
the draught that maddened me come med’cining:
A yellow girl[FN#79] whose court cures every carking care; * Did
a stone touch it would with joy and glee upspring:
She riseth in her ewer during darkest night * The house with
brightest, sheeniest light illumining:
And going round of youths to whom the world inclines[FN#80] *
Ne’er, save in whatso way they please, their hearts shall
wring.
From hand of coynted[FN#81] lass begarbed like yarded lad,[FN#82]
* Wencher and Tribe of Lot alike enamouring,
She comes: and say to him who dares claim lore of love *
Something hast learnt but still there’s many another thing.
But best of all is the saying of Ibn al-Mu’tazz[FN#83]:—
On the shady woody island[FN#84] His showers Allah deign * Shed
on Convent hight Abdún[FN#85] drop and drip of railing rain:
Oft the breezes of the morning have awakened me therein * When
the Dawn shows her blaze,[FN#86] ere the bird of flight was
fain;
And the voices of the monks that with chants awoke the walls *
Black-frocked shavelings ever wont the cup amorn to
drain.[FN#87]
’Mid the throng how many fair with languour-kohl’d eyes[FN#88] *
And lids enfolding lovely orbs where black on white was
lain,
In secret came to see me by shirt of night disguised * In terror
and in caution a-hurrying amain!
Then I rose and spread my cheek like a carpet on his path * In
homage, and with skirts wiped his trail from off the plain.
But threatening disgrace rose the Crescent in the sky * Like the
paring of a nail yet the light would never wane:
Then happened whatso happened: I disdain to kiss and tell * So
deem of us thy best and with queries never mell.
And gifted of God is he who saith:—
In the morn I am richest of men * And in joy at good news I start
up
For I look on the liquid gold[FN#89] * And I measure it out by
the cup.
And how goodly is the saying of the poet:—
By Allah, this is th’ only alchemy * All said of other science
false we see!
Carat of wine on hundredweight of woe * Transmuteth gloomiest
grief to joy and glee.
And that of another:—