BOOK OF LOVE.

MASTER-PATTERNS.1

Y verse discovers

MY

Six pairs of lovers.

Fuel to love word-sketches of two,

Rustan and Rodawu.

Unknown to each, so near, so far, Jussuph and Suleiká.

Love without what love doth win,

Ferhad and Schirin.

Such too as lovers are

Medschnun and Leila.

Lover's eyes of Dschemil saw

Youth in grizzled Boteinah.

Whim as fine as any yet,

Solomon and the brunette ! Hast thou marked these well, Thou wilt in love excel.

L

ANOTHER PAIR.

OVE truly is a famous trade!

In what is finer profit made? Thou art not mighty, hast no hoard, Art equal to the greatest lord. As soon of Asra and Wamik As of the famous prophets speak; Not speak, indeed, but merely name, Their names announce to all a fame. What deeds were theirs, what businesses, That no man knows! We know but this, They loved. All other words are weak In speech of Asra and Wamik.

READING-BOOK.2

WONDERFULLEST book of books

Wo

Is the book of Love;

With intent have I perused it:
Few the leaves of pleasure,
Whole brochures of sorrow,
Separation fills a section.

And reunion! A small chapter,
Fragmentary. Tomes of trouble,
With examples each protracted,

Endless, without stint.

O Nisami! Still, at last

Thou didst find the right direction:
The insoluble, who solves it?

Lovers who resume each other.

There were eyes, there was a mouth so tender,
Those for glances, that for kisses.
Form so round and hips so slender,
Fit for Paradise's blisses.

Was she there—and whither away?
She it was, nor says me nay,
Has bestowed herself in fleeing,
And enfettered all my being.

WARNED.

I TOO, willing, have been caught

In the tresses' snaring,

And so, Hafis, as with thee,

With thy friend 'twas faring.

Weft of slender hairs they plait ;
'Tis a helm they borrow
Under which to subjugate,

Know we to our sorrow.

Thus to let their wile constrain
Second thought refuses :

He who dreads a heavy chain
Runs in lighter nooses.

ABANDONED.

LOCKS crisping on a head so round!

And if I may through such a wealth of hair, Hither, with both hands full, and thither, fare, To very bottom of my heart I 'm sound.

At once am healed, at once receive a wound
When eyes and mouth the kisses do not spare.
Where goes the five-tooth'd comb in these caresses!
Soon finds its way back to the tresses.
Nor do the ears decline the play,

They are not flesh, they are not skin,

So dainty for the sport are they!
The fingers wander out and in,
Would fain in such a wealth of hair
To and fro for ever fare.

So once and often didst thou too,
Hafis, as we the deed renew.

HESITATION.

F the emeralds must I prattle

OF

Which thy comely fingers suit? Sometimes is a word in season,

Oft 'tis better to be mute.

I would say, then: green the color
Is a solace to the eye!

Dost insist? Well, take and read it, Why dost practise such control! "Equal to thy emerald's solace

Is the peril from thy soul."

Darling, what though songs must venture
From the free and frolic clime

Of their sky-land, to be prison'd
In the rigid bonds of time!
Other things to time surrender,
Songs alone themselves sustain :
Every line like love, as tender,

Shall immortally remain.