THE INCONSISTENT

TO A LADY, UPON HER REFUSAL OF A PRESENT OF MELONS, AND HER REJECTION OF THE

ADDRESSES OF AN ADMIRER.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn,

   "They ought to be heavy, and wrinkled, and yellow:"

 When I offered myself, whom those graces adorn,

   You flouted, and called me an ugly old fellow!

A SERENADE TO HIS SLEEPING MISTRESS

BY ALI BEN ABD ALGANY, OF CORDOVA.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

Sure Harut's * potent spells were breathed

   Upon that magic sword, thine eye;

 For if it wounds us thus while sheathed,

   When drawn 'tis vain its edge to fly.

How canst thou doom me, cruel fair,

   Plunged in the hell ** of scorn, to groan?

 No idol e'er this heart could share

   This heart has worshipped thee alone.

Footnotes:

* A wicked angel, who is permitted to tempt mankind by teaching them magic: see the legend respecting him in Sale's Koran.

** The poet here alludes to the punishments denounced in the Koran against those who worship a plurality of gods: "their couch shall be in hell, and over them shall be coverings of fire." Sur. 2.

VERSES ADDRESSED TO HIS DAUGHTERS, DURING HIS IMPRISONMEN

BY MOTAMMED BEN ABAD, SULTAN OF SEVILLE.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

"Upon a certain festival," says Ebn Khocan, a contemporary writer, "during the confinement of Motammed, he was waited upon by his children, who came to receive his blessing, and to offer up their prayers for his welfare. Amongst these some were females, and their appearance was truly deplorable. They were naturally beauteous as the moon, but, from the rags which covered them, they seemed like the moon under an eclipse: their feet were bare and bleeding, and every trace of their former splendour was completely effaced. At this melancholy spectacle their unfortunate father gave way to his sorrow in the following verses."]

With jocund heart and cheerful brow,

   I used to hail the festal morn:

 How must Motammed greet it now?--

   A prisoner, helpless and forlorn;

While these dear maids, in beauty's bloom,

   With want oppressed, with rags o'erspread,

 By sordid labours at the loom

   Must earn a poor, precarious bread.

Those feet, that never touched the ground

   Till musk or camphor strewed the way,

 Now, bare and swoll'n with many a wound,

   Must struggle through the miry clay.

Those radiant cheeks are veiled in woe,

   A shower descends from every eye;

 And not a starting tear can flow

   That wakes not an attending sigh.

Fortune, that whilom owned my sway,

   And bowed obsequious to my nod,

 Now sees me destined to obey,

   And bend beneath oppression's rod.

Ye mortals, with success elate,

   Who bask in Hope's delusive beam,

 Attentive view Motammed's fate,

   And own that bliss is but a dream.

VERSES ADDRESSED BY WALADATA

VERSES ADDRESSED BY WALADATA, DAUGHTER OF MOHAMMED ALMOSTAKFI BILLAH, KHALIF OF SPAIN, TO SOME YOUNG MEN, WHO HAD PRETENDED A PASSION FOR HERSELF AND HER COMPANIONS.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

.

When you told us our glances, soft, timid, and mild,

   Could occasion such wounds in the heart,

 Can ye wonder that yours, so ungoverned and wild,

   Some wounds to our cheeks should impart?

The wounds on our cheeks are but transient, I own,

   With a blush they appear and decay;

 But those on the heart, fickle youths, ye have shown

   To be even more transient than they.

ON THE DEATH OF NEDHAM ALMOLK

VIZIER TO THE THREE FIRST SELJUK SULTANS OF PERSIA.

BY SHEBAL ADDAULET.

Thy virtues, famed through every land,

   Thy spotless life in age and youth,

 Prove thee a pearl, by Nature's hand

   Formed out of purity and truth.

Too long its beams of orient light

   Upon a thankless world were shed:

 ALLAH has now revenged the slight,

   And called it to its native bed.

ON THE INCOMPATIBILITY OF PRIDE AND TRUE GLORY

BY ABU ALOLA.

Think not, Abdallah, Pride and Fame

   Can ever travel hand in hand;

 With breast opposed, and adverse aim,

   On the same narrow path they stand.

Thus Youth and Age together meet,

   And Life's divided moments share:

 This can't advance till that retreat;

   What's here increased, is lessened there.

And thus the falling shades of Night

   Still struggle with the lucid ray,

 And ere they stretch their gloomy flight,

   Must win the lengthened space from Day.

TO ADVERSITY

BY ABU MENBAA CARAWASH, SULTAN OF MOUSEL

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

.

Hail, chastening friend, Adversity! 'tis thine

 The mental ore to temper and refine;

 To cast in Virtue's mould the yielding heart,

 And Honour's polish to the mind impart.

Without thy wakening touch, thy plastic aid,

 I'd lain the shapeless mass that Nature made;

 But formed, great artist, by thy magic hand,

 I gleam a sword, to conquer and command.

ON THE VALE OF BOZAA

BY AHMED BEN YOUSEF ALMENAZY.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

The intertwining boughs for thee

   Have wove, sweet dell, a verdant vest,

 And thou in turn shall give to me

   A verdant couch upon thy breast.

To shield me from Day's fervid glare,

   Thine oaks their fostering arms extend,

 As, anxious o'er her infant care,

   I've seen a watchful mother bend.

A brighter cup, a sweeter draught,

   I gather from that rill of thine,

 Than maddening drunkards ever quaffed,

   Than all the treasures of the vine.

So smooth the pebbles on its shore,

   That not a maid can thither stray,

 But counts her strings of jewels o'er,

   And thinks the pearls have slipped away.

ON MODERATION IN OUR PLEASURES

BY ABU ALCASSIM EBN TABATABA.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

How oft does passion's grasp destroy

   The pleasure that it strives to gain!

 How soon the thoughtless course of joy

   Is doomed to terminate in pain!

When Prudence would thy steps delay,

   She but restrains to make thee blest;

 Whate'er from joy she lops away

   But heightens and secures the rest.

Wouldst thou a trembling flame expand

   That hastens in the lamp to die?

 With careful touch, with sparing hand,

   The feeding stream of life supply.

But if thy flask profusely sheds

   A rushing torrent o'er the blaze,

 Swift round the sinking flame it spreads,

   And kills the fire it fain would raise.

h yield a limpid bowl.

Think not that stream will backward flow,

   Or cease its destined course to keep;

 As soon the blazing spark shall glow

   Beneath the surface of the deep.

Believe not Fate, at thy command,

   Will grant a meed she never gave;

 As soon the airy tower shall stand

   That's built upon a passing wave.

Life is a sleep of threescore years;

   Death bids us wake and hail the light;

 And man, with all his hopes and fears,

   Is but a phantom of the night.

ON THE DEATH OF A SON

BY ALI BEN MOHAMMED ALTAHMANY.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

 

Tyrant of Man! Imperious Fate!

   I bow before thy dread decree;

 Nor hope in this uncertain state

   To find a seat secure from thee.

Life is a dark, tumultuous stream,

   With many a care and sorrow foul;

 Yet thoughtless mortals vainly deem

   That it can yield a limpid bowl.

Think not that stream will backward flow,

   Or cease its destined course to keep;

 As soon the blazing spark shall glow

   Beneath the surface of the deep.

Believe not Fate, at thy command,

   Will grant a meed she never gave;

 As soon the airy tower shall stand

   That's built upon a passing wave.

Life is a sleep of threescore years;

   Death bids us wake and hail the light;

 And man, with all his hopes and fears,

   Is but a phantom of the night.

EXTEMPORE VERSES

ON THE SULTAN CARAWASH, HIS PRINCIPAL MUSICIAN BARKAIDY, HIS VIZIER EBN FADHI, AND HIS CHAMBERLAIN ABU JABER.

BY EBN ALRAMACRAM.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

 

Towering as Barkaidy's face,

   The wintry night came in,

 Cold as the music of his bass,

   And lengthened as his chin.

Sleep from my aching eyes had fled,

   And kept as far apart

 As sense from Ebn Fadhi's head,

   Or virtue from his heart.

The dubious paths my footsteps balked,

   I slipped along the sod,

 As if on Jaber's faith I'd walked,

   Or on his truth had trod.

At length the rising King of Day

   Burst on the gloomy wood,

 Like Carawash's eye, whose ray

   Dispenses every good.

TO LEILA

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

 

Leila, with too successful art,

   Has spread for me Love's cruel snare;

 And now, when she has caught my heart,

   She laughs, and leaves it to despair.

Thus the poor sparrow pants for breath,

   Held captive by a playful boy;

 And while it drinks the draught of death,

   The thoughtless child looks on with joy.

Ah! were its fluttering pinions free,

   Soon would it bid its chains adieu;

 Or did the child its sufferings see,

   He'd pity and relieve them too.

LIFE

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

 

Like sheep, we're doomed to travel o'er

   The fated track to all assigned;

 These follow those that went before,

   And leave the world to those behind.

As the flock seeks the pasturing shade,

   Man presses to the future day;

 While Death, amidst the tufted glade,

   Like the dun robber, waits his prey.

ON THE CAPRICES OF FORTUNE

BY SHEMS ALMAALI CABUS

THE DETHRONED SULTAN OF GEORGIA.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

  

Why should I blush that Fortune's frown

   Dooms me life's humble paths to tread?

 To live unheeded and unknown!

   To sink forgotten to the dead!

'Tis not the good, the wise, the brave,

   That surest shine, or highest rise:

 The feather sports upon the wave,

   The pearl in ocean's cavern lies.

Each lesser star that studs the sphere

   Sparkles with undiminished light:

 Dark and eclipsed alone appear

   The Lord of Day, the Queen of Night.

ON THE CRUCIFIXION OF EBN BAKIAH

BY ABU HASSAN ALANBARY.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

Wathever thy fate, in life and death,

   Thou'rt doomed above us still to rise,

 Whilst at a distance far beneath

   We view thee with admiring eyes.

The gazing crowds still round thee throng,

   Still to thy well-known voice repair,

 As when erewhile thy hallowed tongue

   Poured in the mosque the solemn prayer.

Still, generous Vizier, we survey

   Thine arms extended o'er our head,

 As lately, in the festive day,

   When they were stretched thy gifts to shed.

Earth's narrow bound'ries strove in vain

   To limit thy aspiring mind;

 And now we see thy dust disdain

   Within her breast to be confined.

The earth's too small for one so great;

   Another mansion thou shalt have--

 The clouds shall be thy winding-sheet,

   The spacious vault of heaven thy grave.

TO HIS FAVOURITE MISTRESS

BY SAIF ADDAULET, SULTAN OF ALEPPO.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

I Saw their jealous eyeballs roll,

   I saw them mark each glance of mine;

 I saw thy terrors, and my soul

   Shared every pang that tortured thine.

In vain, to wean my constant heart,

   Or quench my glowing flame, they strove:

 Each deep-laid scheme, each envious art,

   But waked my fears for her I love.

'Twas this compelled the stern decree

   That forced thee to those distant towers,

 And left me nought but love for thee,

   To cheer my solitary hours.

Yet let not Abla sink depressed,

   Nor separation's pangs deplore:

 We meet not--'tis to meet more blest;

   We parted--'tis to part no more.

ON A THUNDER-STORM

BY IBRAHIM BEN KHIRET ABU ISAAC

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

Bright smiled the morn, till o'er its head

 The clouds in thickened foldings spread

     A robe of sable hue;

 Then, gathering round Day's golden King,

 They stretched their wide o'ershadowing wing,

     And hid him from our view.

The rain his absent beams deplored,

 And, softened into weeping, poured

     Its tears in many a flood;

 The lightning laughed, with horrid glare;

 The thunder growled, in rage; the air

     In silent sorrow stood.

TO A DOVE

BY SERAGE ALWARAK.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

The Dove, to ease an aching breast,

   In piteous murmurs vents her cares;

 Like me, she sorrows, for, oppressed,

   Like me, a load of grief she bears.

Her plaints are heard in every wood,

   While I would fain conceal my woes:

 But vain's my wish--the briny flood,

   The more I strive, the faster flows.

Sure, gentle bird, my drooping heart

   Divides the pangs of love with thine;

 And plaintive murm'rings are thy part,

   And silent grief and tears are mine.

ON THE VICISSITUDES OF LIFE

BY THE SAME

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

Mortal joys, however pure,

   Soon their turbid source betray;

 Mortal bliss, however sure,

   Soon must totter and decay.

Ye who now, with footsteps keen,

   Range through Hope's delusive field,

 Tell us what the smiling scene

   To your ardent grasp can yield?

Other youths have oft before

   Deemed their joys would never fade,

 Till themselves were seen no more--

   Swept into oblivion's shade.

Who, with health and pleasure gay,

   E'er his fragile state could know,

 Were not age and pain to say--

   Man is but the child of woe?

TO A LADY, ON SEEING HER BLUSH

BY THE KHALIF RADHI BILLAH.

Translated into English Verse by J. D. Carlyle, BD

Leila, whene'er I gaze on thee

   My altered cheek turns pale;

 While upon thine, sweet maid, I see

   A deep'ning blush prevail.

Leila, shall I the cause impart

   Why such a change takes place?--

 The crimson stream deserts my heart

   To mantle on thy face.