Classic Poem

KONDJE-GUL .

Oh, fairest flowret of my love's parterre,
Kondje, thy silken brows are ebon crescents;
I love the dreamy languorous quiescence,
Born of tired passion and voluptuous care,
That dawns upon thy breast, as white and pure,
As proud arched lilies of the Dumanhoar,
Bathed in the moonlight's essence.

ZOUHRA .

The soulful bulbul prisoned in thy breast
Draws my dream toward thee with divinest singing.
Why should I gifts of pearls to pearl be bringing?
Unfold the necklace of thine arms, my blest,
And lull me with the spices of thy skin,
While perfumed shapes of attar, vague and thin,
Are softly o'er us winging.

HADIDJE .

Oh, lissome and Albanian beauty mine,
Thou art the river where my parched caresses
Seek 'mid the wavy grasses of thy tresses
Refreshing waters, limpid and divine.
Ah, sing away upon thy low Kinoor,
The jealous doubt I strive to not endure,
That mocks me and oppresses.

NAZLI .

Nazli, my lithe and agile-footed deer,
Why, when I warned thee, didst thou not obey me?
How for a Christian dog couldst thou betray me?
Nazli, my idle Kandjar thirsts, I fear —
Shrink not: — I do but need thy star-pale head,
Beside thy bleeding body on my bed,
This sweet night I will lay me!