T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Poems from the Arabic
By From The Arabian Nights(Translated by Sir Richard F. Burton, 1885–7) I ASKED the author of mine ills | |
To heal the wound with one sweet kiss: | |
No! No! she cried, forever no! | |
But I, soft whispering, urged Yes: | |
Quoth she, Then take it by my leave, | 5 |
When smiles shall pardon thine amiss: | |
By force, cried I? Nay, she replied, | |
With love and gladness eke I wis. | |
Now ask me not what next occurred, | |
Such grace of God and whist of this! | 10 |
Deem what thou wilt of us, for love | |
By calumnies the sweeter is: | |
Nor after this care I one jot | |
Whether my foe be known or not. * * * * * | |
And faulty of one fault the Beauty prove, | 15 |
Her charms a thousand advocates shall move. | |
For her sins is a pleader that brow, | |
And all hearts its fair pleading must trow: | |
When I saw it I cried, “Tonight! | |
The moon at its fullest doth show; | 20 |
Tho’ Balkis’ own Ifrit try a bout, | |
Spite his force she would deal him a throw.” * * * * * | |
I am not lost to prudence, but indeed | |
Here I’m bewildered, what shall be my rede? | |
Would any aid me in mine ails of love, | 25 |
By my own might and sleight would I be freed: | |
But ah! my heart is lost and passion-shent; | |
To none save Allah can I trust my need! | |
With heavy back parts, high breasts delicate, | |
And lissome form that sways with swinging gait, | 30 |
She lightly hides love-longing in her breast; | |
But I may never hide its ban and bate: | |
While hosts of followers her steps precede, | |
Like pearl now necklaced and now separate. * * * * * | |
Hadst thou been leal in love’s loyalty, | 35 |
Ne’er hadst suffered sleep to seal those eyne; | |
O thou who claimest lover loyalty, | |
Treading the lover’s path of pain and pine! | |
By Allah, O my cousin, never yet | |
Did eyes of lover sleep such sleep indign. | 40 |
O thou who deignest some at so rest syne, | |
Whose lips those teeth like necklaced pearls enshrine! | |
I kissed him thousand times and clipt his waist, | |
And spent the night with cheek to cheek close li’en, | |
Till to depart us twain come dawning day, | 45 |
Like sword-edge drawn from sheath in radiant line. * * * * * | |
Women for all the chastity they claim, | |
Are offal cast by kites where’er they list: | |
This night their talk and secret charm are thine; | |
That night another joyeth calf and wrist: | 50 |
Like inn, whence after night thou far’st at dawn, | |
And lodgers other night thou has not wist. * * * * * | |
O beauty’s Union! love for thee’s my creed; | |
Free choice of Faith and eke my best desire: | |
Women I have foresworn for thee; so may | 55 |
Deem me all men this day a shaveling friar. | |
Even not beardless one with girl, nor heed | |
The spy who saith to thee, “’Tis an amiss!” | |
Far different is the girl whose feet one kisses | |
And that gazelle whose feet the earth must kiss. | 60 |
My soul thy sacrifice! I chose thee out | |
Who art not menstruous or oviparous: | |
Did with woman mell, I should beget | |
Brats till the wide world grew strait for us. | |
She saith (sore hurt in sense the most acute | 65 |
For she had proferred what did not besuit):— | |
“Unless thou stroke as man should swive his wife | |
Blame not when horns thy brow shall incornùte! | |
Thy wand seems waxen, to a limpo grown, | |
And more I palm it, softer grows the brute!” | 70 |
Quoth she (for I lie with her forbare), | |
“O folly-following fool, O fool to core: | |
If thou my coynte for Kiblah to thy coigne | |
Reject, we’ll show thee what shall please thee more.” | |
She proferred me a tender coynte. | 75 |
Quoth I, “I will not roger thee!” | |
She drew back, saying, “From the Faith | |
He turns, who’s turned by Heaven’s decree! | |
And front-wise futtering, in one day, | |
Is absolute persistency!” | 80 |
Then swung she round and shining rump | |
Like silvern lump she showèd me!” | |
I cried: “Well done, O mistress mine! | |
No more am I in pain for thee; | |
O thou of all that Allah oped | 85 |
Showest me fairest victory!” * * * * * | |
Men craving pardon will uplift their hands; | |
Women pray pardon with their legs on high: | |
And on it for a pious, prayerful work! | |
The Lord shall raise it in the depths to lie. | 90 |
Of evil things the folks suspect us twain; | |
And to this thought their hearts and souls are bent: | |
Come, dear! let’s justify and free their souls | |
That wrong us; one good bout and then—repent! * * * * * | |
When his softly bending shape bid him close to my embrace | 95 |
Which clipt him all about like the tendrils of the vine, | |
And shed a flood of softness on the hardness of his heart, | |
He yielded; though at first he was minded to decline; | |
And dreading lest the railer’s eye should light upon his form, | |
Came armourèd with caution to baffle his design: | 100 |
His waist makes moan of hinder cheeks that weigh upon his feet | |
Like heavy load of merchandise upon young camel li’en; | |
Girt with his glances ’scymitar which seemed athirst for blood, | |
And clad in mail of dusky curls that show the sheeniest shine, | |
His fragrance wafted happy news of footstep coming nigh, | 105 |
And to him like a bird uncaged I flew in straightest line: | |
I spread my cheek upon his path, beneath his sandal-shoon, | |
And lo! the stibium of their dust healed all my hurt of eyne. | |
With one embrace again I bound the banner of our loves, | |
And loosed the knot of my delight that bound in bonds malign: | 110 |
Then bade I make high festival, and straight came flocking in | |
Pure joys that know not grizzled age nor aught of pain and pine: | |
The full moon dotted with the stars the lips and pearly teeth | |
That dance right joyously upon the bubbling face of wine: | |
So in the prayer-niche of their joys I yielded me to what | 115 |
Would make the humblest penitent of sinner most indign. | |
I swear by all the signs of those glories in his face | |
I’ll ne’er forget the Chapter entituled Al-Ikhlas. * * * * * | |
Cleave fast to her thou lovest and let the envious rail amain; | |
For calumny and envy ne’er to favour love were fain. | 120 |
Lo, whilst I sleep, in dreams I saw thee lying by my side | |
And from thy lips the sweetest, sure, of limpid springs did drain. | |
Yea, true and certain all I saw is, as I will avouch, | |
And ’spite the envier, thereto I surely will attain. | |
There is no goodlier sight, indeed, for eyes to look upon, | 125 |
Than when one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain. | |
Each to the other’s bosom clasped, clad in their twin delight, | |
Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks enchain, | |
Lo, when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, | |
But on cold iron smite the folk who chide at them in vain. | 130 |
Thou, that for loving censures the votaries of love, | |
Canst thou assain a heart diseased or heal a cankered brain? | |
If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, | |
I rede thee cast the world away and with that one remain. * * * * * | |
Seest not that pearls are prized for milky hue, | 135 |
But with a dirham buy we coals in load? | |
And while white faces enter Paradise, | |
Black faces crowd Gehenna’s black abode. | |
I love not black girls but because they show | |
Youth’s colour, tinct of eye and heartcore’s hue: | 140 |
Nor are in error who unlove the white, | |
And hoary hairs and winding-sheet eschew. | |
Black girls in acts are white, and ’tis as though | |
Like eyes, with purest shine and sheen they show; | |
If I go daft for her, be not amazed; | 145 |
Black bile drives melancholic-mad we know: | |
’Tis as my colour were the noon of night; | |
For all no moon it be, its splendours glow. | |
I visit them, and night-black lendeth aid to me | |
Seconding love, but dawn-white is my enemy. | 150 |
How many a night I’ve passed with the beloved of me, | |
While gloom with dusky tresses veilèd our desires: | |
But when the moon-light showed it caused me sad affright; | |
And I to Morning said, “Who worship light are liars!” | |
He came to see me, hiding neath the skirt of night, | 155 |
Hasting his steps as wended he in cautious plight. | |
I rose and spread my cheek upon his path like rug, | |
Abject, and trailed my skirt to hide it from his sight; | |
But rose the crescent moon and strove its best to show | |
The world our loves, like nail-slice raying radiant light: | 160 |
Then what befell befell: I need not aught describe; | |
But think thy best, and ask me naught of wrong or right. | |
Meet not thy lover save at night for fear of slander | |
The Sun’s a tittle-tattler and the Moon’s a pander. | |
I love not white girls blown with fat who puff and pant; | 165 |
The maid for me is young brunette embonpoint-scant. | |
I’d rather ride a colt that’s dark upon the day | |
Of race, and set my friends upon the elephant. | |
Seest not that musk, the nut-brown musk, e’er claims the highest price, | |
Whilst for a load of whitest lime none more than dirham bids? | 170 |
And while white speck upon the eye deforms the loveliest youth, | |
Black eyes discharge the sharpest shafts in lashes from their lids. * * * * * | |
My lover came to me one night, | |
And clipt we both with fond embrace; | |
And lay together till we saw | 175 |
The morning come with swiftest pace. | |
Now I pray Allah and my Lord | |
To reunite us of His grace; | |
And make night last me long as he | |
Lies in the arms that tightly lace. * * * * * | 180 |
How joyously sweet are the nights that unite, | |
When my dearling deigns keep me the troth she did plight; | |
When union conjoins us in all that we have, | |
And parting is severed and sundered from sight, | |
To us comes the world with her favour so fair, | 185 |
After frown and aversion and mighty despight! | |
Hath planted her banner Good Fortune for us, | |
And we drink of her cup in the purest delight. | |
We have met and complained of the pitiful Past, | |
And of nights a full many that doomed us to blight. | 190 |
But now, O my lady, the Past is forgot; | |
The Compassionate pardon the Past for unright! | |
How sweet is existence, how glad is to be! | |
This union my passion doth only incite. | |
In spite of envier’s jealousy, at end | 195 |
We have won all we hoped of the friend: | |
We’ve crowned our meeting with a close embrace | |
On quilts where new brocades with sendal blend; | |
On bed of perfumed leather, which the spoils | |
Of downy birds luxuriously distend. | 200 |
But I abstain me from unneeded wine, | |
When honey-dews of lips sweet must can lend: | |
Now from the sweets of union we unknow | |
Time near and far, if slow or fast it wend, | |
The seventh night hath come and gone, O strange! | 205 |
How went the nights we never reckt or kenned; | |
Till on the seventh wishing joy they said, | |
“Allah prolong the meet of friend with friend!” | |
O day of joys to either lover fain! | |
The loved one came and free from lonely pain: | 210 |
She blest me with all inner charms she hath; | |
And companied with inner grace deep lain: | |
She made me drain the wine of love till I, | |
Was faint with joys her love had made me drain: | |
We toyed and joyed and on each other lay; | 215 |
Then fell to wine and soft melodious strain: | |
And for excess of joyance never knew, | |
How went the day and how it came again. | |
Fair fall each lover, may he union win | |
And gain of joy like me the amplest gain; | 220 |
Nor weet the taste of severance’ bitter fruit | |
And joys assain them as they us assain! * * * * * | |
She cried while played in her side Desire, | |
And Night o’er hung her with blackest blee:— | |
“O Night shall thy musk bring me ne’er a chum | 225 |
To tumble and futter this coynte of me?” | |
And she smote that part with her palm and sighed | |
Sore sighs and a-weeping continued she, | |
“As the toothstick beautifies teeth e’en so | |
Must prickle to coynte as a toothstick be. | 230 |
O Moslems, is never a stand to your tools, | |
To assist a woman’s necessity?” | |
Thereat rose upstanding beneath its clothes | |
My yard, as crying, “At thee! at thee!” | |
And I loosed her trouser-string, startling her: | 235 |
“Who art thou?” And I said, “a reply to thy plea!” | |
And began to stroke her with wrist-thick yard, | |
Hurting hinder cheeks by its potency: | |
And she cried as I rose after courses three | |
“Suit thy gree the stroke!” and I—“suit thy gree!” | 240 |