Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

16

Thinkest thou that to the threshold

I have made this pilgrimage?

With the master of the household

I have business to engage.

O deny me not thy presence,

For a wan, pale spark am I

That to win a moment’s lustre

In eternal fever lie.

Never more will I look backward

On the road that I have traced;

‘Tis to gain the far to-morrow

That, like Time, I forward haste.

Lo, love’s ocean is my vessel,

And love’s ocean is my strand;

For no other ship I hanker,

Nor desire another land.

Scatter now a spark, but gently,

Such a spark as will not burn;

I am newly fledged to needing,

To the nest I would return.

In the far, fond hope that, haply,

Thou wilt hunt for me one day,

From the spinning noose of princes

Like a fawn I leapt away.

And if thou wilt be so gracious,

I will give these friends of mine

A bright glass or two delightful

Of my night-consoling wine.