A Bouquet of Poetry

By the poetess Mary Ajami

Did you but know that my heart, before your love beguiled it, was like the desert —
no oasis in it where the birds of the wilderness might flutter for joy in its shade across the expanses.
Come, look: there has arisen over its breadth the most wondrous of states and visions,
until the very wastelands have shown themselves a green garden, sweet of fragrance and water;
and were the people of the camp to alight in its court, the breath of the shades would drift over them.

Where Are You?

Bride of my poetry, where are you? Come to meet me;
since the parting, the heat of longing has grown.
I do not know the place from which you are sent — only
I glimpsed you one night between shadow and luster.
So I wandered the valley of poetry, singing love to you,
and said: O cup of passion, overflow!
But how quickly the vision vanished in farewell,
and my occupation became the longing that remained.

* * *

I asked the stars of night about you, and fancied them
eyes that turned away from your radiance to guard themselves.
And I asked the flowers of the hills: did you love her?
They said: Indeed — but we were not granted her.
And I asked the willow bough; it said: she stole it from me,
yet whenever she commands, the heart must throb.
And the rivers laughed aloud, calling out to us:
the fair one used to come and draw her water,
but she vanished from the eye after
every fool had wronged her lovers.

To a Man of Letters!!

Night has grown calm and its sorrows have stilled,
and its eyes look out upon the gardens.
There is nothing but the brooks of water singing
melodies stirred up by its yearning.
So pour me, from the wine of clear dawn, a cup
that wakens longing with its wondrous arts.
And when the songster sends forth his voice
and the enchantment of morning light appears,
beauty comes on like a phantom of dream
and reminds us! — and we keep the pledge.
It is a pledge in which the heart has trusted
that art has a lover who never betrays it.
We never recall its glory but we see
a garden about it, and laurel for its crown.