The Garden of Bright Waters Part 1

The Garden of Bright Waters.

by Various.

INTRODUCTION

Head in hand, I look at the paper leaf; It is still white.

I look at the ink Dry on the end of my brush.

My soul sleeps.

Will it ever wake?

I walk a little in the pouring of the sun And pa.s.s my hands over the higher flowers.

There is the soft green forest, There are the sweet lines of the mountains Carved with snow, red in the sunlight.

I see the slow march of the clouds, I hear the crows jeering, and I come back

To sit and look at the paper leaf, Which is still white Under my brush.

_From the Chinese of Chang-Chi (770-850)._

THE GARDEN OF BRIGHT WATERS

_AFGHANISTAN_

THE PRINCESS OF QULZUM (BALLADE BY NUR UDDIN)

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight; I have seen the daughter of the King of Qulzum pa.s.sing from grace to grace.

Yesterday she threw her bed on the floor of her double house And laughed with a thousand graces.

She has a little pearl and coral cap And rides in a palanquin with servants about her And claps her hands, being too proud to call.

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight.

"My palanquin is truly green and blue; I fill the world with pomp and take my pleasure; I make men run up and down before me, And am not as young a girl as you pretend.

I am of Iran, of a powerful house, I am pure steel.

I hear that I am spoken of in Lah.o.r.e."

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight.

I also hear that they speak of you in Lah.o.r.e, You walk with a joyous step, Your nails are red and the palms of your hands are rosy.

A pear-tree with a fresh stem is in your palace gardens, I would not that your mother should give my pear-tree To twine with an evil spice-tree or fool banana.

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight.

"The coins that my father gave me for my forehead Throw rays and light the hearts of far men; The ray of light from my red ring is sharper than a diamond.

I go about and about in pride as of hemp wine And my words are chosen.

But I give you my honey cheeks, dear, I trust them to you."

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight.

The words of my mouth are coloured and s.h.i.+ning things; And two great saints are my perpetual guards.

There is never a song of _Nur Uddin_ but has in it a great achievement And is as brilliant as a young hyacinth; I pour a ray of honey on my disciples, There is as it were a fire in my ballades.

I have seen a small proud face br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sunlight.

_From the Pus'hto (Afghans, nineteenth century)._

COME, MY BELOVED!

Come, my beloved! And I say again: Come, my beloved!

The doves are moaning and calling and will not cease.

Come, my beloved!

"The fairies have made me queen, and my heart is love.

Sweeter than the green cane is my red mouth."

Come, my beloved!

The jacinth has spilled odour on your hair, The balance of your neck is like a jacinth; You have set a star of green between your brows.

Come, my beloved!

Like lemon-trees among the rocks of grey hills Are the soft colours of the airy veil To your rose knee from your curved almond waist.

Come, my beloved!

Your light breast veil is tawny brown with stags, Stags with eyes of emerald, hunted by red kings.

Come, my beloved!

_Muhammad Din_ is wandering; he is drunken and mad; For a year he has been dying. Send for the doctor!

Come, my beloved!

_From the Pus'hto of Muhammad Din Tilai (Afghans, nineteenth century)._

BALLADE OF MUHAMMAD KHAN

She has put on her green robe, she has put on her double veil, my idol; My idol has come to me.

She has put on her green robe, my love is a laughing flower; Gently, gently she comes, she is a young rose, she has come out of the garden.

Gently she has shown her face, parting her veil, my idol; My idol has come to me.

She has put on her green robe, my love is a young rose for me to break.

Her chin has the smooth colour of peaches and she guards it well; She is the daughter of a Moghol house and well they guard her.

She put on her red jewels when she came with a noise of rings, my idol; My idol has come to me.

She has put on her green robe, my love is the stem of a rose; She breaks not, she is strong.