Cupbearer, bring, bring here again my yester even's wine;My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine:While still I live, 'tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy;The day shall come when none may e'en my resting-placedivine.—Sultan Murad II.(reigned 1421-1451).
Cupbearer, bring, bring here again my yester even's wine;My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine:While still I live, 'tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy;The day shall come when none may e'en my resting-placedivine.—Sultan Murad II.(reigned 1421-1451).
Cupbearer, bring, bring here again my yester even's wine;My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine:While still I live, 'tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy;The day shall come when none may e'en my resting-placedivine.—Sultan Murad II.(reigned 1421-1451).
Cupbearer, bring, bring here again my yester even's wine;
My harp and rebec bring, them bid address this heart of mine:
While still I live, 'tis meet that I should mirth and glee enjoy;
The day shall come when none may e'en my resting-place
divine.—Sultan Murad II.(reigned 1421-1451).
Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray;Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey.Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance,All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay."Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?" asked I her."It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop," did she say.Thought I, though I spake not: "In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent,Wretched and head-giddy, wand'ring, those who hope hope not for stray.""Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?" I said; then she:"Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display."Even as thou sighest, 'Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain,Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array.—Sultan Mohammed II.(1451-1481).
Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray;Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey.Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance,All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay."Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?" asked I her."It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop," did she say.Thought I, though I spake not: "In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent,Wretched and head-giddy, wand'ring, those who hope hope not for stray.""Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?" I said; then she:"Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display."Even as thou sighest, 'Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain,Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array.—Sultan Mohammed II.(1451-1481).
Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray;Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey.Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance,All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay."Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?" asked I her."It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop," did she say.Thought I, though I spake not: "In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent,Wretched and head-giddy, wand'ring, those who hope hope not for stray.""Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?" I said; then she:"Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display."Even as thou sighest, 'Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain,Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array.—Sultan Mohammed II.(1451-1481).
Souls are fluttered when the morning breezes through thy tresses stray;
Waving cypresses are wildered when thy motions they survey.
Since with witchcraft thou hast whetted keen the lancet of thy glance,
All my veins are bleeding inward through my longing and dismay.
"Why across thy cheek disordered float thy tresses?" asked I her.
"It is Rum-Eyli; there high-starred heroes gallop," did she say.
Thought I, though I spake not: "In thy quarter, through thy tint and scent,
Wretched and head-giddy, wand'ring, those who hope hope not for stray."
"Whence the anger in thy glances, O sweet love?" I said; then she:
"Silence! surely if I shed blood, I the ensigns should display."
Even as thou sighest, 'Avni, shower thine eyes tears fast as rain,
Like as follow hard the thunder-roll the floods in dread array.
—Sultan Mohammed II.(1451-1481).
Torn and pierced my heart has been by thy scorn and tyranny's blade;Rent by the scissors of grief for thee is the robe that my patience arrayed.Like themihrabof the Kaaba, as shrine where in worship to turn,Thy ward would an angel take, if thy footprint there he surveyed.They are pearls, O mine eye! thou sheddest her day-bright face before;Not a tear is left—these all are dried by the beams by her cheek displayed.—Mohammed II.
Torn and pierced my heart has been by thy scorn and tyranny's blade;Rent by the scissors of grief for thee is the robe that my patience arrayed.Like themihrabof the Kaaba, as shrine where in worship to turn,Thy ward would an angel take, if thy footprint there he surveyed.They are pearls, O mine eye! thou sheddest her day-bright face before;Not a tear is left—these all are dried by the beams by her cheek displayed.—Mohammed II.
Torn and pierced my heart has been by thy scorn and tyranny's blade;Rent by the scissors of grief for thee is the robe that my patience arrayed.Like themihrabof the Kaaba, as shrine where in worship to turn,Thy ward would an angel take, if thy footprint there he surveyed.They are pearls, O mine eye! thou sheddest her day-bright face before;Not a tear is left—these all are dried by the beams by her cheek displayed.—Mohammed II.
Torn and pierced my heart has been by thy scorn and tyranny's blade;
Rent by the scissors of grief for thee is the robe that my patience arrayed.
Like themihrabof the Kaaba, as shrine where in worship to turn,
Thy ward would an angel take, if thy footprint there he surveyed.
They are pearls, O mine eye! thou sheddest her day-bright face before;
Not a tear is left—these all are dried by the beams by her cheek displayed.
—Mohammed II.
To obey, Eight hard for Allah, is my aim and my desire;'Tis but zeal for Faith, for Islam, that my ardor doth inspire.Through the grace of Allah, and th' assistance of the Band Unseen,Is my earnest hope the Infidels to crush with ruin dire.On the Saints and on the Prophets surely doth my trust repose;Through the love of God, to triumph and to conquest I aspire.What if I with soul and gold strive here to wage the Holy War?Praise is God's! ten thousand sighs for battle in my breast suspire.O Mohammed! through the chosen Ahmed Mukhtar's glorious aid,Hope I that my might may triumph over Islam's foes acquire!—Mohammed II.
To obey, Eight hard for Allah, is my aim and my desire;'Tis but zeal for Faith, for Islam, that my ardor doth inspire.Through the grace of Allah, and th' assistance of the Band Unseen,Is my earnest hope the Infidels to crush with ruin dire.On the Saints and on the Prophets surely doth my trust repose;Through the love of God, to triumph and to conquest I aspire.What if I with soul and gold strive here to wage the Holy War?Praise is God's! ten thousand sighs for battle in my breast suspire.O Mohammed! through the chosen Ahmed Mukhtar's glorious aid,Hope I that my might may triumph over Islam's foes acquire!—Mohammed II.
To obey, Eight hard for Allah, is my aim and my desire;'Tis but zeal for Faith, for Islam, that my ardor doth inspire.Through the grace of Allah, and th' assistance of the Band Unseen,Is my earnest hope the Infidels to crush with ruin dire.On the Saints and on the Prophets surely doth my trust repose;Through the love of God, to triumph and to conquest I aspire.What if I with soul and gold strive here to wage the Holy War?Praise is God's! ten thousand sighs for battle in my breast suspire.O Mohammed! through the chosen Ahmed Mukhtar's glorious aid,Hope I that my might may triumph over Islam's foes acquire!—Mohammed II.
To obey, Eight hard for Allah, is my aim and my desire;
'Tis but zeal for Faith, for Islam, that my ardor doth inspire.
Through the grace of Allah, and th' assistance of the Band Unseen,
Is my earnest hope the Infidels to crush with ruin dire.
On the Saints and on the Prophets surely doth my trust repose;
Through the love of God, to triumph and to conquest I aspire.
What if I with soul and gold strive here to wage the Holy War?
Praise is God's! ten thousand sighs for battle in my breast suspire.
O Mohammed! through the chosen Ahmed Mukhtar's glorious aid,
Hope I that my might may triumph over Islam's foes acquire!
—Mohammed II.
Ah, thine eyes lay waste the heart, they 'gainst the soul baredaggers dread;See how sanguinary gleam they—blood aye upon blood theyshed.Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorchedbreast—It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread.Said I: "O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe akiss."Smiling rose-like, "Surely, surely, by my life," she answered.As I weep sore, of my stained eyebrow and my tears ofblood,"'Tis the rainbow o'er the shower stretched," were by all beholderssaid.While within my heart thine eye's shaft, send not to mybreast despair;Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house beled.Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeblegrownIs the basil, that the gardeners nightly o'er it water shed.Quoth I: "O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim herehath come";"Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child's face hang,"she said.—Prince Jem(1481).
Ah, thine eyes lay waste the heart, they 'gainst the soul baredaggers dread;See how sanguinary gleam they—blood aye upon blood theyshed.Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorchedbreast—It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread.Said I: "O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe akiss."Smiling rose-like, "Surely, surely, by my life," she answered.As I weep sore, of my stained eyebrow and my tears ofblood,"'Tis the rainbow o'er the shower stretched," were by all beholderssaid.While within my heart thine eye's shaft, send not to mybreast despair;Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house beled.Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeblegrownIs the basil, that the gardeners nightly o'er it water shed.Quoth I: "O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim herehath come";"Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child's face hang,"she said.—Prince Jem(1481).
Ah, thine eyes lay waste the heart, they 'gainst the soul baredaggers dread;See how sanguinary gleam they—blood aye upon blood theyshed.Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorchedbreast—It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread.Said I: "O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe akiss."Smiling rose-like, "Surely, surely, by my life," she answered.As I weep sore, of my stained eyebrow and my tears ofblood,"'Tis the rainbow o'er the shower stretched," were by all beholderssaid.While within my heart thine eye's shaft, send not to mybreast despair;Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house beled.Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeblegrownIs the basil, that the gardeners nightly o'er it water shed.Quoth I: "O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim herehath come";"Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child's face hang,"she said.—Prince Jem(1481).
Ah, thine eyes lay waste the heart, they 'gainst the soul bare
daggers dread;
See how sanguinary gleam they—blood aye upon blood they
shed.
Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorched
breast—
It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread.
Said I: "O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe a
kiss."
Smiling rose-like, "Surely, surely, by my life," she answered.
As I weep sore, of my stained eyebrow and my tears of
blood,
"'Tis the rainbow o'er the shower stretched," were by all beholders
said.
While within my heart thine eye's shaft, send not to my
breast despair;
Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house be
led.
Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeble
grown
Is the basil, that the gardeners nightly o'er it water shed.
Quoth I: "O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim here
hath come";
"Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child's face hang,"
she said.
—Prince Jem(1481).
Lo! there the torrent, dashing 'gainst the rocks, doth wildly roll;The whole wide realm of Space and Being ruth hath on my soul.Through bitterness of grief and woe the morn hath rent its robe;See! O in dawning's place, the sky weeps blood, without control!Tears shedding, o'er the mountain-tops the clouds of heaven pass;Hear, deep the bursting thunder sobs and moans through stress of dole.—Prince Jem.
Lo! there the torrent, dashing 'gainst the rocks, doth wildly roll;The whole wide realm of Space and Being ruth hath on my soul.Through bitterness of grief and woe the morn hath rent its robe;See! O in dawning's place, the sky weeps blood, without control!Tears shedding, o'er the mountain-tops the clouds of heaven pass;Hear, deep the bursting thunder sobs and moans through stress of dole.—Prince Jem.
Lo! there the torrent, dashing 'gainst the rocks, doth wildly roll;The whole wide realm of Space and Being ruth hath on my soul.Through bitterness of grief and woe the morn hath rent its robe;See! O in dawning's place, the sky weeps blood, without control!Tears shedding, o'er the mountain-tops the clouds of heaven pass;Hear, deep the bursting thunder sobs and moans through stress of dole.—Prince Jem.
Lo! there the torrent, dashing 'gainst the rocks, doth wildly roll;
The whole wide realm of Space and Being ruth hath on my soul.
Through bitterness of grief and woe the morn hath rent its robe;
See! O in dawning's place, the sky weeps blood, without control!
Tears shedding, o'er the mountain-tops the clouds of heaven pass;
Hear, deep the bursting thunder sobs and moans through stress of dole.
—Prince Jem.
From Istambol's throne a mighty host to Iran guided I;Sunken deep in blood of shame I made the Golden Heads to lie.Glad the Slave, my resolution, lord of Egypt's realm became:Thus I raised my royal banner e'en as the Nine Heavens high.From the kingdom fair of 'Iraq to Hijaz these tidings sped,When I played the harp of Heavenly Aid at feast of victory.Through my saber Transoxania drowned was in a sea of blood;Emptied I of kuhl of Isfahan the adversary's eye.Flowed adown a River Amu from each foeman's every hair—Rolled the sweat of terror's fever—if I happed him to espy.Bishop-mated was the King of India by my Queenly troops,When I played the Chess of empire on the Board of sov'reignty.O Selimi, in thy name was struck the coinage of the world,When in crucible of Love Divine, like gold, that melted I.—Sultan Selim I.(1512-1520).
From Istambol's throne a mighty host to Iran guided I;Sunken deep in blood of shame I made the Golden Heads to lie.Glad the Slave, my resolution, lord of Egypt's realm became:Thus I raised my royal banner e'en as the Nine Heavens high.From the kingdom fair of 'Iraq to Hijaz these tidings sped,When I played the harp of Heavenly Aid at feast of victory.Through my saber Transoxania drowned was in a sea of blood;Emptied I of kuhl of Isfahan the adversary's eye.Flowed adown a River Amu from each foeman's every hair—Rolled the sweat of terror's fever—if I happed him to espy.Bishop-mated was the King of India by my Queenly troops,When I played the Chess of empire on the Board of sov'reignty.O Selimi, in thy name was struck the coinage of the world,When in crucible of Love Divine, like gold, that melted I.—Sultan Selim I.(1512-1520).
From Istambol's throne a mighty host to Iran guided I;Sunken deep in blood of shame I made the Golden Heads to lie.Glad the Slave, my resolution, lord of Egypt's realm became:Thus I raised my royal banner e'en as the Nine Heavens high.From the kingdom fair of 'Iraq to Hijaz these tidings sped,When I played the harp of Heavenly Aid at feast of victory.Through my saber Transoxania drowned was in a sea of blood;Emptied I of kuhl of Isfahan the adversary's eye.Flowed adown a River Amu from each foeman's every hair—Rolled the sweat of terror's fever—if I happed him to espy.Bishop-mated was the King of India by my Queenly troops,When I played the Chess of empire on the Board of sov'reignty.O Selimi, in thy name was struck the coinage of the world,When in crucible of Love Divine, like gold, that melted I.—Sultan Selim I.(1512-1520).
From Istambol's throne a mighty host to Iran guided I;
Sunken deep in blood of shame I made the Golden Heads to lie.
Glad the Slave, my resolution, lord of Egypt's realm became:
Thus I raised my royal banner e'en as the Nine Heavens high.
From the kingdom fair of 'Iraq to Hijaz these tidings sped,
When I played the harp of Heavenly Aid at feast of victory.
Through my saber Transoxania drowned was in a sea of blood;
Emptied I of kuhl of Isfahan the adversary's eye.
Flowed adown a River Amu from each foeman's every hair—
Rolled the sweat of terror's fever—if I happed him to espy.
Bishop-mated was the King of India by my Queenly troops,
When I played the Chess of empire on the Board of sov'reignty.
O Selimi, in thy name was struck the coinage of the world,
When in crucible of Love Divine, like gold, that melted I.
—Sultan Selim I.(1512-1520).
My pain for thee balm in my sight resembles;Thy face's beam the clear moonlight resembles.Thy black hair spread across thy cheeks, the roses,O Liege, the garden's basil quite resembles.Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud;For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles.Thy mouth, a casket fair of pearls and rubies,Thy teeth, pearls, thy lip coral bright resembles.Their diver I, each morning and each even;My weeping, Liege, the ocean's might resembles.Lest he seduce thee, this my dread and terror,That rival who Iblis in spite resembles.Around the taper bright, thy cheek, MuhibbiTurns, and the moth in his sad plight resembles.—Sultan Soleiman, the Magnificent(1520-1566).
My pain for thee balm in my sight resembles;Thy face's beam the clear moonlight resembles.Thy black hair spread across thy cheeks, the roses,O Liege, the garden's basil quite resembles.Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud;For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles.Thy mouth, a casket fair of pearls and rubies,Thy teeth, pearls, thy lip coral bright resembles.Their diver I, each morning and each even;My weeping, Liege, the ocean's might resembles.Lest he seduce thee, this my dread and terror,That rival who Iblis in spite resembles.Around the taper bright, thy cheek, MuhibbiTurns, and the moth in his sad plight resembles.—Sultan Soleiman, the Magnificent(1520-1566).
My pain for thee balm in my sight resembles;Thy face's beam the clear moonlight resembles.Thy black hair spread across thy cheeks, the roses,O Liege, the garden's basil quite resembles.Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud;For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles.Thy mouth, a casket fair of pearls and rubies,Thy teeth, pearls, thy lip coral bright resembles.Their diver I, each morning and each even;My weeping, Liege, the ocean's might resembles.Lest he seduce thee, this my dread and terror,That rival who Iblis in spite resembles.Around the taper bright, thy cheek, MuhibbiTurns, and the moth in his sad plight resembles.—Sultan Soleiman, the Magnificent(1520-1566).
My pain for thee balm in my sight resembles;
Thy face's beam the clear moonlight resembles.
Thy black hair spread across thy cheeks, the roses,
O Liege, the garden's basil quite resembles.
Beside thy lip oped wide its mouth, the rosebud;
For shame it blushed, it blood outright resembles.
Thy mouth, a casket fair of pearls and rubies,
Thy teeth, pearls, thy lip coral bright resembles.
Their diver I, each morning and each even;
My weeping, Liege, the ocean's might resembles.
Lest he seduce thee, this my dread and terror,
That rival who Iblis in spite resembles.
Around the taper bright, thy cheek, Muhibbi
Turns, and the moth in his sad plight resembles.
—Sultan Soleiman, the Magnificent(1520-1566).
If 'tis state thou seekest like the world-adorning sun's array,Lowly e'en as water rub thy face in earth's dust every day.Fair to see, but short enduring is this picture bright, the world;'Tis a proverb: Fleeting like the realm of dreams is earth's display.Through the needle of its eyelash never hath the heart's thread past;Like unto the Lord Messiah bide I half-road on the way.Athlete of the Universe through self-reliance grows the Heart,With the ball, the Sphere—Time, Fortune—like an apple doth it play.Mukhlisi, thy frame was formed from but one drop, yet, wonder great!When thou verses sing'st, thy spirit like the ocean swells, they say.—Prince Mustafa.
If 'tis state thou seekest like the world-adorning sun's array,Lowly e'en as water rub thy face in earth's dust every day.Fair to see, but short enduring is this picture bright, the world;'Tis a proverb: Fleeting like the realm of dreams is earth's display.Through the needle of its eyelash never hath the heart's thread past;Like unto the Lord Messiah bide I half-road on the way.Athlete of the Universe through self-reliance grows the Heart,With the ball, the Sphere—Time, Fortune—like an apple doth it play.Mukhlisi, thy frame was formed from but one drop, yet, wonder great!When thou verses sing'st, thy spirit like the ocean swells, they say.—Prince Mustafa.
If 'tis state thou seekest like the world-adorning sun's array,Lowly e'en as water rub thy face in earth's dust every day.Fair to see, but short enduring is this picture bright, the world;'Tis a proverb: Fleeting like the realm of dreams is earth's display.Through the needle of its eyelash never hath the heart's thread past;Like unto the Lord Messiah bide I half-road on the way.Athlete of the Universe through self-reliance grows the Heart,With the ball, the Sphere—Time, Fortune—like an apple doth it play.Mukhlisi, thy frame was formed from but one drop, yet, wonder great!When thou verses sing'st, thy spirit like the ocean swells, they say.—Prince Mustafa.
If 'tis state thou seekest like the world-adorning sun's array,
Lowly e'en as water rub thy face in earth's dust every day.
Fair to see, but short enduring is this picture bright, the world;
'Tis a proverb: Fleeting like the realm of dreams is earth's display.
Through the needle of its eyelash never hath the heart's thread past;
Like unto the Lord Messiah bide I half-road on the way.
Athlete of the Universe through self-reliance grows the Heart,
With the ball, the Sphere—Time, Fortune—like an apple doth it play.
Mukhlisi, thy frame was formed from but one drop, yet, wonder great!
When thou verses sing'st, thy spirit like the ocean swells, they say.
—Prince Mustafa.
Ta'en my sense and soul have those thy Leyli locks, thy glance's spell,Me, their Mejnun, 'midst of love's wild dreary desert they impel,Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace,Sense and heart have fall'n and lingered in thy chin's sweet dimple-well.Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips;From the hand of patience struck they honor's glass, to earth it fen.The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show;For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel.Since Selimi hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heartHave his head and soul abandoned, plunging 'neath love's ocean-swell.—Sultan Selim II.(1566-1574).
Ta'en my sense and soul have those thy Leyli locks, thy glance's spell,Me, their Mejnun, 'midst of love's wild dreary desert they impel,Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace,Sense and heart have fall'n and lingered in thy chin's sweet dimple-well.Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips;From the hand of patience struck they honor's glass, to earth it fen.The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show;For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel.Since Selimi hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heartHave his head and soul abandoned, plunging 'neath love's ocean-swell.—Sultan Selim II.(1566-1574).
Ta'en my sense and soul have those thy Leyli locks, thy glance's spell,Me, their Mejnun, 'midst of love's wild dreary desert they impel,Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace,Sense and heart have fall'n and lingered in thy chin's sweet dimple-well.Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips;From the hand of patience struck they honor's glass, to earth it fen.The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show;For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel.Since Selimi hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heartHave his head and soul abandoned, plunging 'neath love's ocean-swell.—Sultan Selim II.(1566-1574).
Ta'en my sense and soul have those thy Leyli locks, thy glance's spell,
Me, their Mejnun, 'midst of love's wild dreary desert they impel,
Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace,
Sense and heart have fall'n and lingered in thy chin's sweet dimple-well.
Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips;
From the hand of patience struck they honor's glass, to earth it fen.
The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show;
For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel.
Since Selimi hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heart
Have his head and soul abandoned, plunging 'neath love's ocean-swell.
—Sultan Selim II.(1566-1574).
Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then;Unclouded beauty's sun and moon bid shine then.But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw,The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then.Were I thy lip to suck, 'twould heal the sick heart;Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then.Beware lest evil glance thy beauty's rose smite,From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then.O heart, this is Life's Water 'midst of darkness,In night's gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then.My love's down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek,A book write on the woes it does enshrine then.Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selimi—And by thy parting's shaft my tears make wine then.—Sultan Selim II.
Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then;Unclouded beauty's sun and moon bid shine then.But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw,The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then.Were I thy lip to suck, 'twould heal the sick heart;Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then.Beware lest evil glance thy beauty's rose smite,From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then.O heart, this is Life's Water 'midst of darkness,In night's gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then.My love's down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek,A book write on the woes it does enshrine then.Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selimi—And by thy parting's shaft my tears make wine then.—Sultan Selim II.
Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then;Unclouded beauty's sun and moon bid shine then.But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw,The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then.Were I thy lip to suck, 'twould heal the sick heart;Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then.Beware lest evil glance thy beauty's rose smite,From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then.O heart, this is Life's Water 'midst of darkness,In night's gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then.My love's down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek,A book write on the woes it does enshrine then.Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selimi—And by thy parting's shaft my tears make wine then.—Sultan Selim II.
Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then;
Unclouded beauty's sun and moon bid shine then.
But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw,
The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then.
Were I thy lip to suck, 'twould heal the sick heart;
Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then.
Beware lest evil glance thy beauty's rose smite,
From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then.
O heart, this is Life's Water 'midst of darkness,
In night's gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then.
My love's down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek,
A book write on the woes it does enshrine then.
Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selimi—
And by thy parting's shaft my tears make wine then.
—Sultan Selim II.
Soon as I beheld thee, mazed and wildered grew my sad heart;How shall I my love disclose to thee who tyrant dread art?How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder TormentSmitten hath my breast with deadly wounds by her eyelash dart?Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling—How shall I not be the slave of Princess such as thou art?Ne'er hath heart a beauty seen like her of graceful figure;Joyous would I for yon charmer's eyebrow with my life part.Farisi, what can I do but love that peerless beauty?Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of yon sweetheart.—Sultan Osman II.(1617-1623).
Soon as I beheld thee, mazed and wildered grew my sad heart;How shall I my love disclose to thee who tyrant dread art?How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder TormentSmitten hath my breast with deadly wounds by her eyelash dart?Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling—How shall I not be the slave of Princess such as thou art?Ne'er hath heart a beauty seen like her of graceful figure;Joyous would I for yon charmer's eyebrow with my life part.Farisi, what can I do but love that peerless beauty?Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of yon sweetheart.—Sultan Osman II.(1617-1623).
Soon as I beheld thee, mazed and wildered grew my sad heart;How shall I my love disclose to thee who tyrant dread art?How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder TormentSmitten hath my breast with deadly wounds by her eyelash dart?Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling—How shall I not be the slave of Princess such as thou art?Ne'er hath heart a beauty seen like her of graceful figure;Joyous would I for yon charmer's eyebrow with my life part.Farisi, what can I do but love that peerless beauty?Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of yon sweetheart.—Sultan Osman II.(1617-1623).
Soon as I beheld thee, mazed and wildered grew my sad heart;
How shall I my love disclose to thee who tyrant dread art?
How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder Torment
Smitten hath my breast with deadly wounds by her eyelash dart?
Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling—
How shall I not be the slave of Princess such as thou art?
Ne'er hath heart a beauty seen like her of graceful figure;
Joyous would I for yon charmer's eyebrow with my life part.
Farisi, what can I do but love that peerless beauty?
Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of yon sweetheart.
—Sultan Osman II.(1617-1623).
Round us foes throng, host to aid us here in sad plight, is there none?In the cause of God to combat, chief of tried might, is there none?None who will checkmate the foe, Castle to Castle, face to faceIn the battle who will Queen-like guide the brave Knight, is there none?Midst a fearful whirlpool we are fallen helpless, send us aid!Us to rescue, a strong swimmer in our friends' sight, is there none?Midst the fight to be our comrade, head to give or heads to take,On the field of earth a hero of renown bright, is there none?Know we not wherefore in turning off our woes ye thus delay;Day of Reckoning, aye, and question of the poor's plight, is there none?With us 'midst the foeman's flaming streams of scorching fire to plunge,Salamander with experience of Fate dight, is there none?This our letter, to the court of Sultan Murad, quick to bear,Pigeon, rapid as the storm-wind in its swift flight, is there none?—Hafiz Pacha.
Round us foes throng, host to aid us here in sad plight, is there none?In the cause of God to combat, chief of tried might, is there none?None who will checkmate the foe, Castle to Castle, face to faceIn the battle who will Queen-like guide the brave Knight, is there none?Midst a fearful whirlpool we are fallen helpless, send us aid!Us to rescue, a strong swimmer in our friends' sight, is there none?Midst the fight to be our comrade, head to give or heads to take,On the field of earth a hero of renown bright, is there none?Know we not wherefore in turning off our woes ye thus delay;Day of Reckoning, aye, and question of the poor's plight, is there none?With us 'midst the foeman's flaming streams of scorching fire to plunge,Salamander with experience of Fate dight, is there none?This our letter, to the court of Sultan Murad, quick to bear,Pigeon, rapid as the storm-wind in its swift flight, is there none?—Hafiz Pacha.
Round us foes throng, host to aid us here in sad plight, is there none?In the cause of God to combat, chief of tried might, is there none?None who will checkmate the foe, Castle to Castle, face to faceIn the battle who will Queen-like guide the brave Knight, is there none?Midst a fearful whirlpool we are fallen helpless, send us aid!Us to rescue, a strong swimmer in our friends' sight, is there none?Midst the fight to be our comrade, head to give or heads to take,On the field of earth a hero of renown bright, is there none?Know we not wherefore in turning off our woes ye thus delay;Day of Reckoning, aye, and question of the poor's plight, is there none?With us 'midst the foeman's flaming streams of scorching fire to plunge,Salamander with experience of Fate dight, is there none?This our letter, to the court of Sultan Murad, quick to bear,Pigeon, rapid as the storm-wind in its swift flight, is there none?—Hafiz Pacha.
Round us foes throng, host to aid us here in sad plight, is there none?
In the cause of God to combat, chief of tried might, is there none?
None who will checkmate the foe, Castle to Castle, face to face
In the battle who will Queen-like guide the brave Knight, is there none?
Midst a fearful whirlpool we are fallen helpless, send us aid!
Us to rescue, a strong swimmer in our friends' sight, is there none?
Midst the fight to be our comrade, head to give or heads to take,
On the field of earth a hero of renown bright, is there none?
Know we not wherefore in turning off our woes ye thus delay;
Day of Reckoning, aye, and question of the poor's plight, is there none?
With us 'midst the foeman's flaming streams of scorching fire to plunge,
Salamander with experience of Fate dight, is there none?
This our letter, to the court of Sultan Murad, quick to bear,
Pigeon, rapid as the storm-wind in its swift flight, is there none?
—Hafiz Pacha.
To relieve Bagdad, O Hafiz, man of tried might, is there none?Aid from us thou seek'st, then with thee host of fame bright, is there none?"I'm the Queen the foe who'll checkmate," thus it was that thou didst say;Room for action now against him with the brave Knight, is there none?Though we know thou hast no rival in vainglorious, empty boasts,Yet to take dread vengeance on thee, say, a Judge right, is there none?While thou layest claim to manhood, whence this cowardice of thine?Thou art frightened, yet beside thee fearing no fight, is there none?Heedless of thy duty thou, the Rafizis have ta'en Bagdad;Shall not God thy foe be? Day of Reckoning, sure, right, is there none?They have wrecked Ebu-Hanifa's city through thy lack of care;Oh, in thee of Islam's and the Prophet's zeal, light, is there none?God, who favored us, whilst yet we knew not, with the Sultanate,Shall again accord Bagdad, decreed of God's might, is there none?Thou hast brought on Islam's army direful ruin with thy bribes;Have we not heard how thou say'st, "Word of this foul blight, is there none?"With the aid of God, fell vengeance on the enemy to take,By me skilled and aged, vizier, pious, zeal-dight, is there none?Now shall I appoint commander a vizier of high emprise,Will not Khizar and the Prophet aid him? guide right, is there none?Is it that thou dost the whole world void and empty now conceive?Of the Seven Climes, Muradi, King of high might, is there none?—Sultan Murad IV.(1623-1640).
To relieve Bagdad, O Hafiz, man of tried might, is there none?Aid from us thou seek'st, then with thee host of fame bright, is there none?"I'm the Queen the foe who'll checkmate," thus it was that thou didst say;Room for action now against him with the brave Knight, is there none?Though we know thou hast no rival in vainglorious, empty boasts,Yet to take dread vengeance on thee, say, a Judge right, is there none?While thou layest claim to manhood, whence this cowardice of thine?Thou art frightened, yet beside thee fearing no fight, is there none?Heedless of thy duty thou, the Rafizis have ta'en Bagdad;Shall not God thy foe be? Day of Reckoning, sure, right, is there none?They have wrecked Ebu-Hanifa's city through thy lack of care;Oh, in thee of Islam's and the Prophet's zeal, light, is there none?God, who favored us, whilst yet we knew not, with the Sultanate,Shall again accord Bagdad, decreed of God's might, is there none?Thou hast brought on Islam's army direful ruin with thy bribes;Have we not heard how thou say'st, "Word of this foul blight, is there none?"With the aid of God, fell vengeance on the enemy to take,By me skilled and aged, vizier, pious, zeal-dight, is there none?Now shall I appoint commander a vizier of high emprise,Will not Khizar and the Prophet aid him? guide right, is there none?Is it that thou dost the whole world void and empty now conceive?Of the Seven Climes, Muradi, King of high might, is there none?—Sultan Murad IV.(1623-1640).
To relieve Bagdad, O Hafiz, man of tried might, is there none?Aid from us thou seek'st, then with thee host of fame bright, is there none?"I'm the Queen the foe who'll checkmate," thus it was that thou didst say;Room for action now against him with the brave Knight, is there none?Though we know thou hast no rival in vainglorious, empty boasts,Yet to take dread vengeance on thee, say, a Judge right, is there none?While thou layest claim to manhood, whence this cowardice of thine?Thou art frightened, yet beside thee fearing no fight, is there none?Heedless of thy duty thou, the Rafizis have ta'en Bagdad;Shall not God thy foe be? Day of Reckoning, sure, right, is there none?They have wrecked Ebu-Hanifa's city through thy lack of care;Oh, in thee of Islam's and the Prophet's zeal, light, is there none?God, who favored us, whilst yet we knew not, with the Sultanate,Shall again accord Bagdad, decreed of God's might, is there none?Thou hast brought on Islam's army direful ruin with thy bribes;Have we not heard how thou say'st, "Word of this foul blight, is there none?"With the aid of God, fell vengeance on the enemy to take,By me skilled and aged, vizier, pious, zeal-dight, is there none?Now shall I appoint commander a vizier of high emprise,Will not Khizar and the Prophet aid him? guide right, is there none?Is it that thou dost the whole world void and empty now conceive?Of the Seven Climes, Muradi, King of high might, is there none?—Sultan Murad IV.(1623-1640).
To relieve Bagdad, O Hafiz, man of tried might, is there none?
Aid from us thou seek'st, then with thee host of fame bright, is there none?
"I'm the Queen the foe who'll checkmate," thus it was that thou didst say;
Room for action now against him with the brave Knight, is there none?
Though we know thou hast no rival in vainglorious, empty boasts,
Yet to take dread vengeance on thee, say, a Judge right, is there none?
While thou layest claim to manhood, whence this cowardice of thine?
Thou art frightened, yet beside thee fearing no fight, is there none?
Heedless of thy duty thou, the Rafizis have ta'en Bagdad;
Shall not God thy foe be? Day of Reckoning, sure, right, is there none?
They have wrecked Ebu-Hanifa's city through thy lack of care;
Oh, in thee of Islam's and the Prophet's zeal, light, is there none?
God, who favored us, whilst yet we knew not, with the Sultanate,
Shall again accord Bagdad, decreed of God's might, is there none?
Thou hast brought on Islam's army direful ruin with thy bribes;
Have we not heard how thou say'st, "Word of this foul blight, is there none?"
With the aid of God, fell vengeance on the enemy to take,
By me skilled and aged, vizier, pious, zeal-dight, is there none?
Now shall I appoint commander a vizier of high emprise,
Will not Khizar and the Prophet aid him? guide right, is there none?
Is it that thou dost the whole world void and empty now conceive?
Of the Seven Climes, Muradi, King of high might, is there none?
—Sultan Murad IV.(1623-1640).
There's an o'erhanging castle in which there flows a main,And there within that castle a fish its home hath ta'en;The fish within its mouth doth hold a shining gem,Which wastes the fish as long as it therein doth remain.This puzzle to the poets is offered by Murad;Let him reply who office or place desires to gain.—Sultan Murad IV.
There's an o'erhanging castle in which there flows a main,And there within that castle a fish its home hath ta'en;The fish within its mouth doth hold a shining gem,Which wastes the fish as long as it therein doth remain.This puzzle to the poets is offered by Murad;Let him reply who office or place desires to gain.—Sultan Murad IV.
There's an o'erhanging castle in which there flows a main,And there within that castle a fish its home hath ta'en;The fish within its mouth doth hold a shining gem,Which wastes the fish as long as it therein doth remain.This puzzle to the poets is offered by Murad;Let him reply who office or place desires to gain.—Sultan Murad IV.
There's an o'erhanging castle in which there flows a main,
And there within that castle a fish its home hath ta'en;
The fish within its mouth doth hold a shining gem,
Which wastes the fish as long as it therein doth remain.
This puzzle to the poets is offered by Murad;
Let him reply who office or place desires to gain.
—Sultan Murad IV.
Allah! Lord who liv'st for aye! O Sole! O King of Glory's Bay!Monarch who ne'er shalt pass away! show thou to us thy bounties fair.In early morning shall our cry, our wail, mount to thy Throne on high:"Error and sin our wont," we sigh: show thou to us thy bounties fair.If cometh not from thee thy grace, evil shall all our works deface;O Lord of Being and of Space! show thou to us thy bounties fair.Creator of security! to thy Beloved greetings be!These fair words are in sincerity: show thou to us thy bounties fairIqbali sinnèd hath indeed, yet unto him thy grace concede;Eternal, Answerer in need! show thou to us thy bounties fair.—Sultan Mustafa II.(1695-1703).
Allah! Lord who liv'st for aye! O Sole! O King of Glory's Bay!Monarch who ne'er shalt pass away! show thou to us thy bounties fair.In early morning shall our cry, our wail, mount to thy Throne on high:"Error and sin our wont," we sigh: show thou to us thy bounties fair.If cometh not from thee thy grace, evil shall all our works deface;O Lord of Being and of Space! show thou to us thy bounties fair.Creator of security! to thy Beloved greetings be!These fair words are in sincerity: show thou to us thy bounties fairIqbali sinnèd hath indeed, yet unto him thy grace concede;Eternal, Answerer in need! show thou to us thy bounties fair.—Sultan Mustafa II.(1695-1703).
Allah! Lord who liv'st for aye! O Sole! O King of Glory's Bay!Monarch who ne'er shalt pass away! show thou to us thy bounties fair.In early morning shall our cry, our wail, mount to thy Throne on high:"Error and sin our wont," we sigh: show thou to us thy bounties fair.If cometh not from thee thy grace, evil shall all our works deface;O Lord of Being and of Space! show thou to us thy bounties fair.Creator of security! to thy Beloved greetings be!These fair words are in sincerity: show thou to us thy bounties fairIqbali sinnèd hath indeed, yet unto him thy grace concede;Eternal, Answerer in need! show thou to us thy bounties fair.—Sultan Mustafa II.(1695-1703).
Allah! Lord who liv'st for aye! O Sole! O King of Glory's Bay!
Monarch who ne'er shalt pass away! show thou to us thy bounties fair.
In early morning shall our cry, our wail, mount to thy Throne on high:
"Error and sin our wont," we sigh: show thou to us thy bounties fair.
If cometh not from thee thy grace, evil shall all our works deface;
O Lord of Being and of Space! show thou to us thy bounties fair.
Creator of security! to thy Beloved greetings be!
These fair words are in sincerity: show thou to us thy bounties fair
Iqbali sinnèd hath indeed, yet unto him thy grace concede;
Eternal, Answerer in need! show thou to us thy bounties fair.
—Sultan Mustafa II.(1695-1703).