He who longs for ruby lip’s kiss may not calm of soul remain;
He his head must yield who hopes the dusky locks’ sweet scent to gain.
Still in heart abides not longing’s flame when one her ward beholds;
Him who seeks her face contents not even Heaven’s flowery plain.
Yonder sugar-lip’s surrounded by her cheek’s down;—where art thou,
O thou seeker of the rose’s company without thorn’s pain?
Wouldest thou delight? Then plunge thou deep beneath Love’s ocean surge:
He who would for regal pearls dive, surely should know well the main.
Though the loved one mocks at Ahmed’s faults and failings, what of that?
He who seeks a friend that’s blameless must without a friend remain.
Ahmed Pasha.
FROM THE WINTER QASĪDA
Locust-like down from the sky the snowflakes wing their way;
From the green-plumaged bird, Delight, O heart! hope not for lay.
Like drunken camels, spatter now the clouds earth’s winding sheet;
Laded the caravan of mirth and glee, and passed away.
With lighted lamps in daytime seek the people for the sun;
Yet scarce, with trouble, a dim, fitful spark discover they.
. . . . . . . . . .
The Moon in Sign of Bounteousness! the Shade of Allah’s grace!
The King, star-armied! he in aspect fair as Hermes’ ray—
The Khān Muhammed! at the portal of whose sphere of might
To wait as servants would Darius and Key-Khusrev pray!
E’en should the sun till the Last Day it measure with gold beam,
Nor shore nor depth could e’er it find to th’ ocean of his sway!
Nejātī.
FROM THE SPRING QASĪDA
The early springtide now hath made earth smiling bright again,
E’en as doth union with his mistress soothe the lover’s pain.
They say: “’Tis now the goblet’s turn, the time of mirth ’tis now;”
Beware that to the winds thou castest not this hour in vain.
Theriaca within their ruby pots the tulips lay:
See in the mead the running streamlet’s glistening, snake-like train.
Onward, beneath some cypress-tree’s loved foot its face to rub,
With turn and turn, and singing sweet, the brook goes through the plain.
Lord! may this happy union of felicity and earth,
Like turn of sun of Love, or Jesu’s life, standfast remain!
May glee and mirth, e’en as desired, continuous abide,
Like to a mighty Key-Khusrev’s, or Jemshīd’s, glorious reign!
. . . . . . . . . .
Sultan Muhammed! Murād’s son! the Pride of Princes all;
He, the Darius, who to all earth’s Kings doth crowns ordain!
Monarch of stars! whose flag’s the sun, whose stirrup is the moon!
Prince dread as Doom, and strong as Fate, and bounteous as main!
Nejātī.
FROM THE QASĪDA ON THE ACCESSION OF SULTAN BĀYEZĪD II
One eve, when had the Sun before her radiant beauty bright
Let down the veil of ambergris, the musky locks of night;
(Off had the royal hawk, the Sun, flown from the Orient’s hand,
And lighted in the West; flocked after him the crows in flight;)
To catch the gloomy raven, Night, the fowler skilled, the Sphere,
Had shaped the new-moon like the claw of eagle, sharp to smite;
In pity at the doleful sight of sunset’s crimson blood,
Its veil across the heaven’s eye had drawn the dusky Night.
. . . . . . . . . .
Sultan of Rome! Khusrev of the Horizons! Bāyezīd!
King of the Epoch! Sovereign! and Centre of all Right!
The tablet of his heart doth all th’ affairs of earth disclose;
And eloquent as page of book the words he doth indite.
O Shāh! I’m he who, ’midst th’ assembly where thy praise is sung,
Will, rebec-like, a thousand notes upon one cord recite.
’Tis meet perfection through thy name to my poor words should come,
As to rose-water perfume sweet is brought by sunbeam’s light.