The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 08 (of 10)
General
The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 08 (of 10)
Fairy tales; Tales -- Arab countries
"O my Censor who wakest a-morn to see * The joys of life and its
jubilee!
Had the fangs of Destiny bitten thee * In such bitter case thou
hadst pled this plea,
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
But from Fate's despight thou art safe this day;- * From her
falsest fay and her crying 'Nay!'
Yet blame him not whom his woes waylay * Who distraught shall say
in his agony,
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
Excuse such lovers in flight abhorr'd * Nor to Love's distreses
thine aid afford:
Lest thy self be bound by same binding cord * And drink of Love's
bitterest injury.
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
In His service I wont as the days went by * With freest heart
through the nights to lie;
Nor tasted wake, nor of Love aught reckt * Ere my heart to
subjection summoned he:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
None weet of Love and his humbling wrong * Save those he sickened
so sore, so long,
Who have lost their wits 'mid the lover-throng * Draining
bitterest cup by his hard decree:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
How oft in Night's gloom he cause wake to rue * Lovers' eyne, and
from eyelids their sleep withdrew;
Till tears to the railing of torrents grew, * Overflowing cheeks
, unconfined and free:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
How many a man he has joyed to steep * In pain, and for pine hath
he plundered sleep,—
Made don garb of mourning the deepest deep * And even his
dreaming forced to flee:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
How oft sufferance fails me! How bones are wasted * And down my
cheeks torrent tear-drops hasted:
And embittered She all the food I tasted * However sweet it was
wont to be:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
Most hapless of men who like me must love, * And must watch when
Night droops her wing from above,
Who, swimming the main where affection drove * Must sign and sink
in that gloomy sea:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
Who is he to whom Love e'er stinted spite * And who scaped his
springes and easy sleight;
Who free from Love lived in life's delight? * Where is he can
boast of such liberty?
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'
Deign Lord such suffering wight maintain * Then best Protector,
protect him deign!
Establish him and his life assain * And defend him from all
calamity:
'Ah me, for Love and his case, ah me:
My heart is burnt by the fires I dree!'"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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