Last Poems | Page 4

came on the off-shore breeze
That rattled the scrub on the bank.?She stretched her appealing arms to me,?Uplifting the Flagon of Love to me,?Till--great indeed was my unslaked thirst--
I paused, I stooped, and I drank!
I went with my foe to the edge of the crater,--
But no one to return, we knew,--?The lava's heat had never been greater
Than the ire between us two.?He flung back his head and he mocked at me,?He spat unspeakable words at me,?Our eyes met, and our knives met,
I saw red, and I slew!
Such were my deeds when my youth was hot,
And force was new to my hand,?With many more that I tell thee not,
Well known in my native land.?These show thy Christ when thou prayest to Him,?He too was a man thou sayest of Him,?Therefore He, when I reach His feet,
Will remember, and understand.
Ashore
Out I came from the dancing-place:?The night-wind met me face to face--
A wind off the harbour, cold and keen,?"I know," it whistled, "where thou hast been."
A faint voice fell from the stars above--?"Thou? whom we lighted to shrines of Love!"
I found when I reached my lonely room?A faint sweet scent in the unlit gloom.
And this was the worst of all to bear,?For someone had left while lilac there.
The flower you loved, in times that were.
Yasin Khan
Ay, thou has found thy kingdom, Yasin Khan,
Thy fathers' pomp and power are thine, at last.?No more the rugged roads of Khorasan,
The scanty food and tentage of the past!
Wouldst thou make war? thy followers know no fear.
Where shouldst thou lead them but to victory??Wouldst thou have love? thy soft-eyed slaves draw near,
Eager to drain thy strength away from thee.
My thoughts drag backwards to forgotten days,
To scenes etched deeply on my heart by pain;?The thirsty marches, ambuscades, and frays,
The hostile hills, the burnt and barren plain.
Hast thou forgotten how one night was spent,
Crouched in a camel's carcase by the road,?Along which Akbar's soldiers, scouting, went,
And he himself, all unsuspecting, rode?
Did we not waken one despairing dawn,
Attacked in front, cut off in rear, by snow,?Till, like a tiger leaping on a fawn,
Half of the hill crashed down upon the foe?
Once, as thou mournd'st thy lifeless brother's fate,
The red tears falling from thy shattered wrist,?A spent Waziri, forceful still, in hate,
Covered they heart, ten paces off,--and missed!
Ahi, men thrust a worn and dinted sword
Into a velvet-scabbarded repose;?The gilded pageants that salute thee Lord
Cover one sorrow-rusted heart, God knows.
Ah, to exchange this wealth of idle days
For one cold reckless night of Khorasan!?To crouch once more before the camp-fire blaze
That lit the lonely eyes of Yasin Khan.
To watch the starlight glitter on the snows,
The plain stretched round us like a waveless sea,?Waiting until thy weary lids should close
To slip my furs and spread them over thee.
How the wind howled about the lonely pass,
While the faint snow-shine of that plateaued space?Lit, where it lay upon the frozen grass,
The mournful, tragic beauty of thy face.
Thou hast enough caressed the scented hair
Of these soft-breasted girls who waste thee so.?Hast thou not sons for every adult year?
Let us arise, O Yasin Khan, and go!
Let us escape from these prison bars
To gain the freedom of an open sky,?Thy soul and mine, alone beneath the stars,
Intriguing danger, as in days gone by.
Nay; there is no returning, Yasin Khan.
The white peaks ward the passes, as of yore,?The wind sweeps o'er the wastes of Khorasan;--
But thou and I go thitherward no more.
Close, ah, too close, the bitter knowledge clings,
We may not follow where my fancies yearn.?The years go hence, and wild and lovely things,
Their own, go with them, never to return.
Khristna and His Flute
(Translation by Moolchand)
Be still, my heart, and listen,
For sweet and yet acute?I hear the wistful music
Of Khristna and his flute.?Across the cool, blue evenings,
Throughout the burning days,?Persuasive and beguiling,
He plays and plays and plays.
Ah, none may hear such music
Resistant to its charms,?The household work grows weary,
And cold the husband's arms.?I must arise and follow,
To seek, in vain pursuit,?The blueness and the distance,
The sweetness of that flute!
In linked and liquid sequence,
The plaintive notes dissolve?Divinely tender secrets
That none but he can solve.?Oh, Khristna, I am coming,
I can no more delay.?"My heart has flown to join thee,"
How can my footsteps stay?
Beloved, such thoughts have peril;
The wish is in my mind?That I had fired the jungle,
And left no leaf behind,--?Burnt all bamboos to ashes,
And made their music mute,--?To save thee from the magic
Of Khristna and his flute.
Song of Jasoda
Had I been young I could have claimed to fold thee
For many days against my eager breast;?But, as things are, how can I hope to hold thee
Once thou hast wakened from this fleeting rest?
Clear shone the moonlight, so that thou couldst find me,
Yet not so clear that thou couldst see my face,?Where in the shadow of the palms behind me
I waited for thy steps, for thy embrace.
What reck I now my morning life was lonely?
For