Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

67

Spring is come; bright glances dart

In the tulip’s bowl of fire;

Thousand thousand sighs upspire

From each several ember’s heart.

Pour a stcup of ruby glow

O’er the garden’s dusty bed;

Strange and shy, in autumn’s dread,

Tulip and narcissus grow.

Hue-and-scent world fills thine eyes;

What the heart is, knowest thou?

‘Tis a moon, that round its brow

Casts a halo of the skies.