T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Lament of Yasmini, the Dancing-girl
By Laurence Hope (Adela Florence Nicolson) (1865–1904)(From Last Poems, 1905) AH, what hast thou done with that Lover of mine? | |
| The Lover who only cared for thee? | |
| Mine for a handful of nights, and thine | |
| For the Nights that Are and the Days to Be, | |
| The scent of the Champa lost its sweet— | 5 |
| So sweet it was in the Times that Were!— | |
| Since His alone, of the numerous feet | |
| That climb my steps, have returned not there. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, return not there! | |
| Art thou yet athrill at the touch of His hand, | 10 |
| Art thou still athirst for His waving hair? | |
| Nay, passion thou never couldst understand, | |
| Life’s heights and depths thou wouldst never dare. | |
| The great Things left thee untouched, unmoved, | |
| The Lesser Things had thy constant care. | 15 |
| Ah, what hast thou done with the Lover I loved, | |
| Who found me wanting, and thee so fair? | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, He found her fair! | |
| Nay, nay, the greatest of all was thine; | |
| The love of the One whom I craved for so, | 20 |
| But much I doubt if thou couldst divine | |
| The Grace and Glory of Love, or know | |
| The worth of the One whom thine arms embraced. | |
| I may misjudge thee, but who can tell? | |
| So hard it is, for the one displaced, | 25 |
| To weigh the worth of a rival’s spell. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, thy rival’s spell! | |
| And Thou, whom I loved: have the seasons brought | |
| That fair content, which allured Thee so? | |
| Is it all that Thy delicate fancy wrought? | 30 |
| Yasmini wonders; she may not know. | |
| Yet never the Stars desert the sky, | |
| To fade away in the desolate Dawn, | |
| But Yasmini watches their glory die, | |
| And mourns for her own Bright Star withdrawn. | 35 |
| Ahi, Yasmini, the lonely dawn! | |
| Ah, never the lingering gold dies down | |
| In a sunset flare of resplendent light, | |
| And never the palm-tree’s feathery crown | |
| Uprears itself to the shadowy night, | 40 |
| But Yasmini thinks of those evenings past, | |
| When she prayed the glow of the glimmering West | |
| To vanish quickly, that night, at last, | |
| Might bring Thee back to her waiting breast. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, how sweet that rest! | 45 |
| Yet I would not say that I always weep; | |
| The force, that made such a desperate thing | |
| Of my love for Thee, has not fallen asleep; | |
| The blood still leaps, and the senses sing, | |
| While other passion has oft availed. | 50 |
| (Other Love—Ah, my One, forgive!—) | |
| To aid, when Churus and Opium failed;— | |
| I could not suffer so much and live. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, who had to live? | |
| Nay, why should I say “Forgive” to Thee? | 55 |
| To whom my lovers and I are naught, | |
| Who granted some passionate nights to me, | |
| Then rose and left me with never a thought! | |
| And yet, Ah, yet, for those Nights that Were, | |
| Thy passive limbs and thy loose loved hair, | 60 |
| I would pay, as I have paid, all these days, | |
| With the love that kills and the thought that slays. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, thy youth it slays! | |
| The youthful widow, with shaven hair, | |
| Whose senses ache for the love of a man, | 65 |
| The young Priest, knowing that women are fair, | |
| Who stems his longing as best he can, | |
| These suffer not as I suffer for Thee; | |
| For the Soul desires what the senses crave, | |
| There will never be pleasure or peace for me, | 70 |
| Since He who wounded, alone could save. | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, He will not save! | |
| The torchlight flares, and the lovers lean | |
| Towards Yasmini, with yearning eyes, | |
| Who dances, wondering what they mean, | 75 |
| And gives cold kisses, and scant replies. | |
| They talk of Love, she withholds the name,— | |
| (Love came to her as a Flame of Fire!) | |
| From things that are only a weary shame; | |
| Trivial Vanity;—light Desire. | 80 |
| Ahi, Yasmini, the light Desire! | |
| Yasmini bends to the praise of men, | |
| And looks in the mirror, upon her hand, 1 | |
| To curse the beauty that failed her then— | |
| Ah, none of her lovers can understand! | 85 |
| How her whole life hung on that beauty’s power, | |
| The spell that waned at the final test, | |
| The charm that paled in the vital hour,— | |
| Which won so many,—yet lost the best! | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, who lost the best! | 90 |
| She leaves the dancing to reach the roof, | |
| With the lover who claims the passing hour, | |
| Her lips are his, but her eyes aloof | |
| While the starlight falls in a silver shower. | |
| Let him take what pleasure, what love, he may, | 95 |
| He, too, will suffer e’er life be spent,— | |
| But Yasmini’s soul has wandered away | |
| To join the Lover, who came,—and went! | |
| Ahi, Yasmini, He came,—and went! |
| Note 1. Indian women wear a small mirror in a ring on their thumbs. [back] |