It is desire that sends me wandering, And yields to me the essence of my life. Like to a vortex runs my eddying course; And without head or foot I drift away. Nor can I stop a while and take repose; Desire is all the power to act I know. My origin is pleasure and desire, Which in the howling desert gave me life. And for my outward lot, my happy friend, I in a grove of roses have my home. And am a servant to the sovereign Rose, And wait upon her pleasure constantly, My breath refreshment brings to all the flowers, And cheers the rose parterre with cheerful light.” Then said the Nightingale: “O happy friend, Thy breath brings health and purity to me! But what is that you call a rose garden? And prithee tell me who this princess is?” Then said the Wind which fosters life in things: “Gladly I tell, and thou shalt joyful hear. There stands a place within the realms of Kum. ’Tis called the rose parterre, the Rose’s realm; There, in a climate genial, this burg Is equally renowned with paradise, Of paradise with Eden’s beauties blent; And flowers, fresh flowers are ever blooming there. The waters gleam like springs of paradise; The dust is fragrant as the purest musk; The watered plain is like the mirror stream That flashes over Eden’s happy realm; The dust is naught but amber all unpriced; This home of healing is a paradise. Within ’tis filled with all things beautiful, And siren strains incomparable resound. Well may it bear the name of paradise, For every glade with glowing houris shines. The Rose is queen and ruler of the town, Which holds the lordship over all the world. Unique for beauty is the reigning Rose, And her charm beautifies all other worlds. She is the princess of things beautiful, The moon of beauty in the arch of heaven. All spheres celestial lie below her feet When she sits throned on cushions of delight. Be she by me both praised and idolized, Whose sight might lap you into ecstasy! The bloom of love gives radiance to her eyes; Enchantment fills the meshes of her hair. Her brows are beauteous as the crescent moon; Her mole is like a glittering star of eve; The eye, when angry, like a dragon gleams; It draws the dagger against all who love. No courage can endure the terror spread By the arched brows that overstand her eyes. The flash, so soon as it is felt by man, Confounds his senses, and defeats his wit. Those eyes can rob the very soul of life; The whisper of the mouth alone restore it. He who their beauty looks upon, declares ’Tis God who sends a blessing on this face; In short, she only does the ideal show, As being the only beauty in the world. And I have wandered in a hundred realms, And never have I found the match of her. For beauty is in her so eminent