214 TRANSLATIONS. SONNET OF MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI. N EVER did sculptor's dream unfold A form which marble doth not hold Which still obeys the mind. So hide in thee, thou heavenly dame, I alas! not well alive, Miss the aim whereto I strive. Not love, nor beauty's pride, Nor Fortune, nor thy coldness, can I chide, Both death and pity, my unequal skill THE EXILE. FROM THE PERSIAN OF KERMANI. IN Farsistan the violet spreads Except the amber morning wind, I know that thou, O morning wind! The merchant has stuffs of price, To stay in the Syrian land; But what is gold for, but for gifts? FROM HAFIZ. I SAID to heaven that glowed above, And estimation true, The heaped-up harvest of the moon IF my darling should depart, And search the skies for prouder friends, God forbid my angry heart In other love should seek amends. When the blue horizon's hoop Me a little pinches here, ΕΡΙΤΑΡΗ. BETHINK, poor heart, what bitter kind of jest Mad Destiny this tender stripling played; For a warm breast of maiden to his breast, She laid a slab of marble on his head. THEY say, through patience, chalk Ah, yes! but by the true heart's blood FRIENDSHIP. THOU foolish Hafiz! Say, do churls DEAREST, where thy shadow falls, ON prince or bride no diamond stone Beaming from a young man's eyes. FROM OMAR KHAYYAM. EACH spot where tulips prank their state Are moles of beauties Time hath slain. He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, And he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere. ON two days it steads not to run from thy grave, FROM IBN JEMIM. Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a mind serene; A woman to thy wife, though she were a crowned queen; And the second, borrowed money,-though the smiling lender say, That he will not demand the debt until the Judgment Day. THE FLUTE. FROM HILALI. HARK what, now loud, now low, the pining flute complains, Without tongue, yellow-cheeked, full of winds that wail and sigh Saying, Sweetheart! the old mystery remains.→ TO THE SHAH. FROM HAFIZ. THY foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike down, TO THE SHAH. FROM ANWARI. Not in their houses stand the stars, TO THE SHAH. FROM ANWARI. FROM thy worth and weight the stars gravitate, SONG OF SEYD NIMETOLLAH OF KUHISTAN. [Among the religious customs of the dervishes is an astronomical dance, in which the dervish imitates the movements of the heavenly bodies by spinning on his own axis, whilst at the same time he revolves round the Sheikh in the centre, representing the sun; and, as he spins, he sings the Song of Seyd Nimetollah of Kuhistan.] SPIN the ball! I reel, I burn, I am seeker of the stone, But what is land, or what is wave, Ask not me, as Muftis can, Well I love the meaning sweet,— |