Faithful and kind a friend I hoped that thou wouldst prove to me; Who would have thought so cruel and fierce a tyrant in thee to see? Thou who the newly oped rose art of the Garden of Paradise, That every thorn and thistle thou lov'st—how can it fitting be? I curse thee not, but of God Most High, Our Lord, I make this prayer— That thou may'st love a pitiless one in tyranny like to thee. In such a plight am I now, alack! that the curser saith to his foe: "Be thy fortune dark and thy portion black, even as those of Mihri!" POEMS OF NEJATI FROM HIS SPRING QASIDA The early springtide now hath made earth smiling bright again, E'en as doth union with his mistress soothe the lover's pain. They say: "'Tis now the goblet's turn, the time of mirth 'tis now"; Beware that to the winds thou castest not this hour in vain. Theriaca within their ruby pots the tulips lay: See in the mead the running streamlet's glistening, snake-like train. Onward, beneath some cypress-tree's loved foot its face to rub, With turn and turn, and singing sweet, the brook goes through the plain. Lord! may this happy union of felicity and earth, Like turn of sun of Love, or Jesu's life, standfast remain! May glee and mirth, e'en as desired, continuous abide Like to a mighty Key-Khusrev's, or Jemshid's, glorious reign! * * * * * Sultan Mohammed! Murad's son! the Pride of Princes all; He, the Darius, who to all earth's kings doth crowns ordain! Monarch of stars! whose flag's the sun, whose stirrup is the moon! Prince dread as Doom, and strong as Fate, and bounteous as main! FROM HIS QASIDA ON THE ACCESSION OF SULTAN BAYEZID II. One eve, when had the Sun before her radiant beauty bright Let down the veil of ambergris, the musky locks of night; (Off had the royal hawk, the Sun, flown from the Orient's hand, And lighted in the West; flocked after him the crows in flight;) To catch the gloomy raven, Night, the fowler skilled, the Sphere, Had shaped the new-moon like the claw of eagle, sharp to smite; In pity at the doleful sight of sunset's crimson blood, Its veil across the heaven's eye had drawn the dusky Night. * * * * * Sultan of Rome! Khusrev of the Horizons! Bayezid! King of the Epoch! Sovereign! and Center of all Eight! The tablet of his heart doth all th' affairs of earth disclose; And eloquent as page of book the words he doth indite. O Shah! I'm he who, 'midst th' assembly where thy praise is sung, Will, rebec-like, a thousand notes upon one cord recite. 'Tis meet perfection through thy name to my poor words should come, As to rose-water perfume sweet is brought by sunbeam's light. GAZEL