But it would be difficult to adduce from the writings of any poet, European or Asiatic, anything to excel the charming ode on spring, by the Turkish poet Mesíhí, who flourished in the 15th century, which has been rendered into graceful English verse, and in the measure of the original, by my friend Mr. E. J. W. Gibb, in his dainty volume of Ottoman Poems, published in London a few years ago. These are some of the verses from that fine ode:
Hark! the bulbul’s[4] lay so joyous: “Now have come the days of spring!”
Merry shows and crowds on every mead they spread, a maze of spring;
There the almond-tree its silvery blossoms scatters, sprays of spring:
Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring![5]
Once again, with flow’rets decked themselves have mead and plain;
Tents for pleasure have the blossoms raised in every rosy lane;
Who can tell, when spring hath ended, who and what may whole remain?
Gaily live! for soon will vanish, biding not, the days of spring!