Laurel · Nizami Ganjavi · The Loves of Laili and Majnun

Section XIX

Nizami Ganjavi (1141–1209), translated by James Atkinson · 1836

iambic pentameter · heroic couplets · 570 lines · from The Loves of Laili and Majnun

How beautifully blueThe firmament! how brightThe moon is sailing throughThe vast expanse, to-night!And at this lovely hourThe lonely Lailí weepsWithin her prison-tower,And her sad record keeps—

How many days, how many years,Her sorrows she has borne!A lingering age of sighs and tears;A night that has no morn:Yet in that guarded tower she lays her head,Shut like a gem within its stony bed.And who the warder of that place of sighs?Her husband!—he the dragon-watch supplies

What words are those which meet her anxious ear?Unusual sounds, unusual sights appear;Lamps flickering round, and wailings sad and low,Seem to proclaim some sudden burst of woe.Beneath her casement rings a wild lament;Death-notes disturb the night; the air is rentWith clamorous voices; every hope is fled;He breathes no longer—Ibn Salám is dead!The fever's rage had nipped him in his bloom;He sank unloved, unpitied, to the tomb.

And Lailí marks the moon; a cloudHad stained its lucid face;The mournful token of a shroud,End of the humble and the proud,The grave their resting-place.And now to her the tale is told,Her husband's hand and heart are cold:And must she mourn the death of oneWhom she had loathed to look upon?In customary garb arrayed,The pomp of grief must be displayed—Dishevelled tresses, streaming eyes,The heart remaining in disguise—She seemed, distraction in her mien,To feel her loss, if loss had been;But all the burning tears she shedWere for her own Majnún, not for the dead!

The rose that hailed the purple morn,All glistening with the balmy dew,Looked still more lonely when the thornHad been removed from where it grew.But Arab laws had still their claimUpon a virtuous widow's fame.And what destroyed all chance of blame?Two years to droop behind the screen;Two years unseeing, and unseen!No, not a glance in all that time,Blooming in life's luxurious prime,Was e'er allowed to womankind;Since, but to household faces blind,She must at home her vigils keep,Her business still to groan and weep.And Lailí weeps; but who can tellWhat secrets may her bosom swell?The beauteous eyes in tears may swim,The heart may throb, but not for himWho in the grave unconscious sleeps—Alone for Majnún Lailí weeps!Accustomed hourly to rehearseHer distant lover's glowing verse,Framed like a spell to charm and bless,And soothe her heart's extreme distress.

'O what a night! a long and dreary night!It is not night, but darkness without end;Awful extinction of ethereal light,Companionless I sit, without one friend.

'Is the immortal source of light congealed?Or has the dreadful day of judgment come?Nature's fair form beneath a pall concealed;Oh! what a night of soul-destroying gloom!Can the shrill wakener of the morn be dead?Is the Mowazzin heedless of his trust?Has the lone warder from his watch-tower fled,Or, weary of his task, returned to dust?

'O God! restore to me the joyous lightWhich first illumed my heart—the golden rayOf youthful love—that from this prison, night,I may escape and feel the bliss of day!'

Years, days, how slowly they roll on!And yet, how quickly life is gone!The future soon becomes the past—Ceaseless the course of time. At lastThe morning came; the king of dayArose in festival array,And Lailí's night had passed away:Her morn of beauty o'er her face,Shining, resumed its wonted grace;And with soft step of fairy lightnessShe moved, a glittering moon in brightness.And what was now her highest aim?The impulse quivering through her frame?Her secret love, so long concealed,She now without a blush revealed.And first she called her faithful Zỹd,On many a tender mission tried,In whom her heart could best confide:'To-day is not the day of hope,Which only gives to fancy scope;It is the day our hopes completing,It is the lover's day of meeting!Rise up! the world is full of joy;Rise up! and serve thy mistress, boy;Together, where the cypress grows,Place the red tulip and the rose;And let the long-dissevered meet—Two lovers, in communion sweet.'

They met; but how? hearts long to joy unknownKnow not what 'tis to be, except alone;Feeling intense had checked the power to speak;Silent confusion sat upon each cheek;Speechless with love unutterable, theyStood gazing at each other all the day.Thus when a chamber holds no golden store,No lock protects the ever-open door;But when rich hoards of gold become a lure,A lock is placed to keep that wealth secure;So when the heart is full, the voice is bound—For ready speech with grief is rarely found.Lailí, with looks of love, was first who caughtThe soft expression of her bursting thought:'Alas!' she said, as over him she hung,'What wondrous grief is this that chains the tongue?The bulbul, famed for his mellifluous note,Without the rose can swell his tuneful throat;And when in fragrant bowers the rose he sees,He warbles sweeter still his ecstasies.Thou art the bulbul of the bright parterre,And I the rose—why not thy love declare?Why, being absent, whilst unseen by thee,Arose to heaven thy voice and minstrelsy?And now, at length, when we are met, alone,Thy love has vanished, and thy voice is gone!'A gush of tears to Majnún gave relief:Words came: 'The misery mine, and mine the grief:The memory of those lips, so balmy sweet,Bound up my tongue, which would their charms repeat.When I, a falcon, through the woodlands flew,The spotted partridge never met my view;And now when I'm unequal to the flight,The long-sought beauteous bird has come in sight:The substance thou, in angel-charms arrayed,And what am I? I know not—but a shade;Without thee nothing. Fancy would enthroneUs both together, melted into one;And thus united to each other, weAre equal—equal in our constancy:Two bodies with one heart and soul the same;Two tapers with one pure celestial flame;Of the same essence formed, together joined,Two drops in one, each soul to each resigned.'He paused, and, with ineffable delight,Lailí gazed on his glowing countenance,So long estranged and hidden from her sight.Now throbs his heart at every fondling glance:The fragrance of her ringlets which enwreathHer smooth round neck, her jasmine-scented breath,The sweet confession of her tremulous eyes,The ardent love which time and chance defies,The chin of dimpled sweetness, the soft cheek,The open ruby lips prepared to speak,Madden his finer feelings, and againA sudden tempest rushes through his brain;Furious he gazes round him for a while,Then looks at Lailí with a ghastly smile;Rends off his Jama-dress in frantic mood,Starts, as with more than human force endued,And, shouting, hurries to the desert plain,Followed by all his savage vassal-train.

His love was chaste and pure as heaven:But by excess to madness driven,Visions of rapture filled his soul;His thoughts sublime despised control;A joy allied to joys aboveWas mingled with his dreamy love:O Majnún! Lost, for ever gone;The world is full of love, but none,None ever bowed at beauty's shrineWith such a sinless soul as thine.

In summer all is bright and gay;In autumn verdure fades away,The trees assume a sickly hue,Unnourished by the fragrant dew;The genial sap, through numerous rills,From root and branch and leaf distils;But, drying in the chilly air,The groves become despoiled and bare;Sapless, the garden's flowery prideThe winds disperse on every side,And all that sight and smell delightedIs by the ruthless season blighted.So Lailí's summer hours have passed;And now she feels the autumnal blast;Her bowers, her blooming bowers, assailed,The perfume of the rose exhaled,Its withered leaves bestrew the ground,And desolation reigns around:For from the moment she beheldHer lover's mental state unveiled,Her heart no consolation knew,Deprived of hope's refreshing dew.Ere that o'erwhelming misery came,Thoughts of new life upheld her frame:Amidst her bitterest weeping and distress,'Mid the dark broodings of her loneliness,Though crushed her feelings, and the man she lovedA wanderer of the forest, strangely moved,Still was there hope, still was her mental gazeFixed on the expected joys of after-days.But now all hope had perished!—she had seenThe frenzied workings of that noble mien:The fit delirious, the appalling start,And grief and terror seized her trembling heart.No tears she sheds, but pines awayIn deep entire despair;The worm has seized its destined prey,The blight is on that face so fair,And fearful symptoms of a swift decayCome o'er her delicate frame, that in the strifeShe almost sinks beneath the load of life.Feeling the ebbing of the vital tide,She calls her weeping mother to her side.'Mother! my hour is come, thou need'st no longer chide;For now no longer can my heart concealWhat once 'twas useless to reveal;Yet, spite of thy affection, thouMayst blame my fatal passion now.But I have in my rapture quaffedPoison in love's delicious draught;And feel the agony which searsThe soul, and dries the source of tears.O mother! mother! all I crave,When I am pillowed in my grave,Is that the anguish-stricken youth,Whose wondrous constancy and truthBlended our souls in one, may comeAnd weep upon his Lailí's tomb.Forbid him not; but let him therePour forth the flood of his despair,And no unhallowed step intrudeUpon his sacred solitude.For he to me, my life, my stay,Was precious as the light of day.Amazing was his love, sublime,Which mocked the wonted power of time;And when thou seest him grovelling near,Wildly lamenting o'er my bier,Frown not, but kindly, soothingly relateWhate'er thou knowest of my disastrous fate.Say to that woe-worn wanderer,—" All is o'er;Lailí, thy own sad friend, is now no more;From this world's heavy chains for ever free,To thee her heart was given—she died for thee!With love so blended was her life, so trueThat glowing love, no other joy she knew.No worldly cares her thoughts had e'er oppressed;The love of thee alone disturbed her rest;And in that love her gentle spirit passed,Breathing on thee her blessing to the last."'The mournful mother gazed upon her child,Now voiceless—though her lips imploring smiled;Saw the dread change, the sudden pause of breath—Her beauty settled in the trance of death;And, in the frenzy of her anguish, toreHer hoary locks, the 'broidered dress she wore;Dissolved in tears, her wild and sorrowing criesBrought down compassion from the weeping skies;And so intense her grief, she shivering fellProstrate upon the corse, insensible,And never, never rose again—the threadOf life was broke—both, clasped together, dead!

O world! how treacherous thou art!With angel-form and demon's heart;A rosary of beads in hand,And, covertly, a trenchant brand.The rolling heavens with azure glow,But storms o'erwhelm our hopes below;The ship is tossed upon the shore,The wanderer meets his friends no more:On flowery field, or boisterous wave,Alike is found a yawning grave;For formless, riding through the air,Devouring death is everywhere;Khosrú, and Kai-kobád, and Júm,Have all descended to the tomb;And who, composed of mortal clay,The universal doom can stay?For this, in vain, have youth and agePondered o'er learning's mystic page;No human power can penetrateThe mysteries of all-ruling fate;Frail life is but a moment's breath;The world, alas! is full of death.

How many wept that fair one, gone so soon!How many wept o'er that departed moon!—How many mourned with broken hearts for her!How many bathed with tears her sepulchre!Round her pure dust assembled old and young,And on the sod their fragrant offerings flung;Hallowed the spot where amorous youth and maidIn after-times their duteous homage paid.

Again it was the task of faithful Zỹd,Through far-extending plain and forest wide,To seek the man of many woes, and tellThe fate of her, alas! he loved so well,Loved, doted on, until his mind, o'erwrought,Was crushed beneath intolerable thought.—With bleeding heart he found his lone abode,Watering with tears the path on which he rode,And beating his sad breast, Majnún perceivedHis friend approach, and asked him why he grieved;What withering sorrow on his cheek had preyed,And why in melancholy black arrayed.'Alas!' he cried, 'the hail has crushed my bowers;A sudden storm has blighted all my flowers;Thy cypress-tree o'erthrown, the leaves are sear;The moon has fallen from her lucid sphere;Lailí is dead!' No sooner was the wordUttered, no sooner the dread tidings heard,Than Majnún, sudden as the lightning's strokeSank on the ground, unconscious, with the shock,And there lay motionless, as if his lifeHad been extinguished in that mortal strife.But, soon recovering, he prepared to rise,Rewakened frenzy glaring in his eyes,And, starting on his feet, a hollow groanBurst from his heart. 'Now, now, I am alone!Why hast thou harrowing words like these expressed?Why hast thou plunged a dagger in my breast?Away! away!' The savage beasts around,In a wide circle couched upon the ground,Wondering looked on, whilst furiously he rentHis tattered garments, and his loud lamentRang through the echoing forest. Now he threadsThe mazes of the shadowy wood, which spreadsPerpetual gloom, and now emerges whereNor bower nor grove obstructs the fiery air;Climbs to the mountain's brow, o'er hill and plainUrged quicker onwards by his burning brain,Across the desert's arid boundary hies;Zỹd, like his shadow, following where he flies;And when the tomb of Lailí meets his view,Prostrate he falls, the ground his tears bedew;Rolling distraught, he spreads his arms to claspThe sacred temple, writhing like an asp:Despair and horror swell his ceaseless moan,And still he clasps the monumental stone.'Alas!' he cries—' No more shall I beholdThat angel-face, that form of heavenly mould.She was the rose I cherished—but a gustOf blighting wind has laid her in the dust.She was my favourite cypress, full of grace,But death has snatched her from her biding-place.The tyrant has deprived me of the flowerI planted in my own sequestered bower;The Basil sweet, the choicest ever seen,Cruelly torn and scattered o'er the green.O beauteous flower! nipped by the winter's cold,Gone from a world thou never didst behold.O bower of joy! with blossoms fresh and fair,But doomed, alas! no ripened fruit to bear.Where shall I find thee now, in darkness shrouded!Those eyes of liquid light for ever clouded!Where those carnation lips, that musky moleUpon thy cheek, that treasure of the soul!Though hidden from my view those charms of thine,Still do they bloom in this fond heart of mine;Though far removed from all I held so dear,Though all I loved on earth be buried here,Remembrance to the past enchantment gives,Memory, blest memory, in my heart still lives.Yes! thou hast quitted this contentious life,This scene of endless treachery and strife;And I like thee shall soon my fetters burst,And quench in draughts of heavenly love my thirst:There, where angelic bliss can never cloy,We soon shall meet in everlasting joy;The taper of our souls, more clear and bright,Will then be lustrous with immortal light!'He ceased, and from the tomb to which he clungSuddenly to a distance wildly sprung,And, seated on his camel, took the wayLeading to where his father's mansion lay;His troop of vassal-beasts, as usual, near,With still unchanged devotion, front and rear;Yet, all unconscious, reckless where he went;The sport of passion, on no purpose bent,He sped along, or stopped; the woods and plainsResounding with his melancholy strains;Such strains as from a broken spirit flow,The wailings of unmitigable woe;But the same frenzy which had fired his mindStrangely to leave his Lailí's grave behind,Now drove him back, and with augmented grief,All sighs and tears, and hopeless of relief,He flings himself upon the tomb again,As if he there for ever would remainFatally mingled with the dust beneath,The young, the pure, the beautiful in death.Closely he strained the marble to his breast,A thousand kisses eagerly impressed,And knocked his forehead in such desperate mood,The place around him was distained with blood.Alone, unseen; his vassals keep remoteCurious intruders from that sacred spot;Alone, with wasted form and sombre eyes,Groaning in anguish he exhausted lies;No more life's joys or miseries will he meet,Nothing to rouse him from this last retreat;Upon a sinking gravestone he is laid,The gates already opening for the dead!Selim, the generous, who had twice beforeSought his romantic refuge, to imploreThe wanderer to renounce the life he led,And shun the ruin bursting o'er his head,Again explored the wilderness, againCrossed craggy rock, deep glen, and dusty plain,To find his new abode. A month had passed'Mid mountain wild, when, turning back, at lastHe spied the wretched sufferer alone,Stretched on the ground, his head upon a stone.Majnún, up-gazing, recognised his face,And bade his growling followers give him place;Then said: 'Why art thou here again, since thouLeft me in wrath? What are thy wishes now?I am a wretch bowed down with bitterest woe,Doomed the extremes of misery to know,Whilst thou, in affluence born, in pleasure nursed,Stranger to ills the direst and the worst,Can never join, unless in mockery,With one so lost to all the world as me!'Selim replied: 'Fain would I change thy will,And bear thee hence,—be thy companion still:Wealth shall be thine, and peace and social joy,And tranquil days, no sorrow to annoy;And she for whom thy soul has yearned so longMay yet be gained, and none shall do thee wrong.'—Deeply he groaned, and wept: 'No more, no more!Speak not of her whose memory I adore;She whom I loved, than life itself more dear,My friend, my angel-bride, is buried here!Dead!— but her spirit's now in heaven, whilst ILive, and am dead with grief—yet do not die.This is the fatal spot, my Lailí's tomb,—This the lamented place of martyrdom.Here lies my life's sole treasure, life's sole trust;All that was bright in beauty gone to dust!'Selim before him in amazement stood,Stricken with anguish, weeping tears of blood;And consolation blandly tried to give.What consolation? Make his Lailí live?His gentle words and looks were only foundTo aggravate the agonising wound;And weeks in fruitless sympathy had passed,But, patient still, he lingered to the last;Then, with an anxious heart, of hope bereft,The melancholy spot, reluctant, left.The life of Majnún had received its blight;His troubled day was closing fast in night.Still weeping, bitter, bitter tears he shed,As grovelling in the dust his hands he spreadIn holy prayer. 'O God! Thy servant hear!And in Thy gracious mercy set him freeFrom the afflictions which oppress him here.That, in the Prophet's name, he may return to Thee!'Thus murmuring, on the tomb he laid his head,And with a sigh his wearied spirit fled.

And he, too, has performed his pilgrimage.And who, existing on this earthly stage,But follows the same path? whate'er his claimTo virtue, honour,—worthy praise, or blame;So will he answer at the judgment-throne,Where secrets are unveiled, and all things known;Where felon-deeds of darkness meet the light,And goodness wears its crown with glory bright.Majnún, removed from this tumultous scene,Which had to him unceasing misery been,At length slept on the couch his bride possessed,And, wakening, saw her mingled with the blessed.There still lay stretched his body, many a day,Protected by his faithful beasts of prey;Whose presence filled with terror all around,Who sought to know where Majnún might be found:Listening they heard low murmurs on the breeze,Now loud and mournful, like the hum of bees;But still supposed him seated in his place,Watched by those sentinels of the savage race.—A year had passed, and still their watch they kept,As if their sovereign was not dead, but slept:Some had been called away, and some had died—At last the smouldering relics were descried:And when the truth had caught the breath of fame,Assembled friends from every quarter came;Weeping, they washed his bones, now silvery white,With ceaseless tears performed the funeral rite,And, opening the incumbent tablet wide,Mournfully laid him by his Lailí's side.One promise bound their faithful hearts—one bedOf cold, cold earth united them when dead.Severed in life, how cruel was their doom!Ne'er to be joined but in the silent tomb!

The minstrel's legend-chronicleWhich on their woes delights to dwell,Their matchless purity and faith,And how their dust was mixed in death,Tells how the sorrow-stricken ZỹdSaw, in a dream, the beauteous bride,With Majnún, seated side by side.In meditation deep, one night,The other world flashed on his sightWith endless vistas of delight—The world of spirits;—as he layAngels appeared in bright array,Circles of glory round them gleaming,Their eyes with holy rapture beaming;He saw the ever-verdant bowers,With golden fruit and blooming flowers;The bulbul heard, their sweets among,Warbling his rich mellifluous song;The ring-dove's murmuring, and the swellOf melody from harp and shell:He saw within a rosy glade,Beneath a palm's extensive shade,A throne, amazing to behold,Studded with glittering gems and gold;Celestial carpets near it spreadClose where a lucid streamlet strayed;Upon that throne, in blissful state,The long-divided lovers sate,Resplendent with seraphic light:—They held a cup, with diamonds bright;Their lips, by turns, with nectar wet,In pure ambrosial kisses met;Sometimes to each their thoughts revealing,Each clasping each with tenderest feeling.—The dreamer who this vision sawDemanded, with becoming awe,What sacred names the happy pairIn Irem-bowers were wont to bear.A voice replied: 'That sparkling moonIs Lailí still—her friend, Majnún;Deprived in your frail world of bliss,They reap their great reward in this!'Zỹd, wakening from his wondrous dream,Now dwelt upon the mystic theme,And told to all how faithful loveReceives its recompense above.

O ye, who thoughtlessly reposeOn what this flattering world bestows,Reflect how transient is your stay!How soon e'en sorrows fade away!The pangs of grief the heart may wringIn life, but Heaven removes the sting;The world to come makes bliss secure,—The world to come, eternal, pure.What other solace for the human soul,But everlasting rest—virtue's unvarying goal!

SAKI! Nizámi's strain is sung;The Persian poet's pearls are strung;Then fill again the goblet high!Thou wouldst not ask the reveller why?Fill to the love that changes never!Fill to the love that lives for ever!That, purified by earthly woes,At last with bliss seraphic glows.

Words in this poem 119

firmament n.: Fixed foundation; established basis. [L. firmamentum, fr. firmare to make firm: cf. F. firmament. See Firm, v. & a.]
morn n.: The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
warder n.: One who wards or keeps; a keeper; a guard.
casement n.: A window sash opening on hinges affixed to the upright side of the frame into which it is fitted. (Poetically) A window. [Shortened fr. encasement. See Incase 1st Case, and cf. Incasement.]
garb n.: External appearance, as expressive of the feelings or character; looks; fashion or manner, as of speech. [OF. garbe looks, countenance, grace, ornament, fr. OHG. garawi, garwi, ornament, dress. akin to E. gear. See Gear, n.]
streaming a.: Sending forth streams.
distraction n.: The act of distracting; a drawing apart; separation. [L. distractio: cf. F. distraction.]
balmy a.: Having the qualities of balm; odoriferous; aromatic; assuaging; soothing; refreshing; mild.
virtuous a.: Possessing or exhibiting virtue. Specifically: -- (a) Exhibiting manly courage and strength; valorous; valiant; brave. [OE. vertuous, OF. vertuos, vertuous, F. vertueux, fr. L. Virtuous. See Virtue, and cf. Virtuoso.]
unseen a.: Not seen or discovered.
womankind n.: The females of the human race; women, collectively.
beauteous a.: Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
throb v. i.: To beat, or pulsate, with more than usual force or rapidity; to beat in consequence of agitation; to palpitate; -- said of the heart, pulse, etc. [OE. ; of uncertain origin; cf. Russ. trepete a trembling, and E. trepidation.]
hourly a.: Happening or done every hour; occurring hour by hour; frequent; often repeated; renewed hour by hour; continual.
soothe v. t.: To assent to as true. Testament of Love. [Originally, to assent to as true; OE. so to verify, AS. ges to prove the truth of, to bear witness. See Sooth, a.]
dreary a.: Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
companionless a.: Without a companion.
dreadful a.: Full of dread or terror; fearful.
wakener n.: One who wakens.
lone n.: A lane. See Loanin.
ceaseless a.: Without pause or end; incessant.
wonted a.: Accustomed; customary; usual.
tulip n.: Any plant of the liliaceous genus Tulipa. Many varieties are cultivated for their beautiful, often variegated flowers. Tulip tree. [F. tulipe, OF. also tulipan, It. tulipano, tulipa, from Turk. tulbend, dulbend, literally, a turban, Per. dulband; -- so called from the resemblance of the form]
speechless a.: Destitute or deprived of the faculty of speech.
wealth n.: Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
wondrous adv.: In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
bulbul n.: The Persian nightingale (Pycnonotus jocosus). The name is also applied to several other Asiatic singing birds, of the family Timaliidæ. The green bulbuls belong to the Chloropsis and allied genera. [Per.]
mellifluous a.: Flowing as with honey; smooth; flowing sweetly or smoothly; as, a mellifluous voice. [L. mellifluus; mel, mellis, honey (akin to Gr. milip) + fluere to flow. See Mildew, Fluent, and cf. Marmalade.]
tuneful a.: Harmonious; melodious; musical; as, tuneful notes.
parterre n.: An ornamental and diversified arrangement of beds or plots, in which flowers are cultivated, with intervening spaces of gravel or turf for walking on. [F., fr. par on, by (L. per)+terre earth, ground, L. terra. See Terrace.]
minstrelsy n.: The arts and occupation of minstrels; the singing and playing of a minstrel.
enthrone v. t.: To seat on a throne; to exalt to the seat of royalty or of high authority; hence, to invest with sovereign authority or dignity. [Pref. en- + throne: cf. OF. enthroner. Cf. Inthronize.]
resigned a.: Submissive; yielding; not disposed to resist or murmur.
madden v. t.: To make mad; to drive to madness; to craze; to excite violently with passion; to make very angry; to enrage.
hurries n.: A staith or framework from which coal is discharged from cars into vessels.
dreamy a.: Abounding in dreams or given to dreaming; appropriate to, or like, dreams; visionary.
sinless a.: Free from sin. Piers Plowman.
genial a.: Contributing to, or concerned in, propagation or production; generative; procreative; productive. [L. genialis: cf. OF. genial. See Genius.]
sapless a.: Destitute of sap; not juicy.
delighted a.: Endowed with delight.
ruthless a.: Having no ruth; cruel; pitiless.
bestrew v. t.: To strew or scatter over; to besprinkle. [Spelt also bestrow.]
desolation n.: The act of desolating or laying waste; destruction of inhabitants; depopulation. [F. désolation, L. desolatio.]
amidst prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
loneliness n.: The condition of being lonely; solitude; seclusion.
strangely adv.: As something foreign, or not one's own; in a manner adapted to something foreign and strange.
appalling a.: Such as to appall; as, an appalling accident.
strife n.: The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
crave v. t.: To ask with earnestness or importunity; to ask with submission or humility; to beg; to entreat; to beseech; to implore. [AS. crafian; akin to Icel. krefia, Sw. kr, Dan. kr.]
pillowed a.: Provided with a pillow or pillows; having the head resting on, or as on, a pillow.
stricken p. p.: Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
unhallowed a.: Not consecrated; hence, profane; unholy; impious; wicked. [Pref. un- not + hallowed.]
amazing a.: Causing amazement; very wonderful; as, amazing grace.
bier n.: A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
soothingly adv.: In a soothing manner.
disastrous a.: Full of unpropitious stellar influences; unpropitious; ill-boding. [Cf. F. désastreux. See Disaster.]
voiceless a.: Having no voice, utterance, or vote; silent; mute; dumb.
imploring a.: That implores; beseeching; entreating.
tore n.: The dead grass that remains on mowing land in winter and spring. Mortimer. [Probably from the root of tear; cf. W. tór a break, cut, tóri to break, cut.]
hoary a.: White or whitish."The hoary willows."
corse n.: A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
broke v. i.: To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
rosary n.: A bed of roses, or place where roses grow. [LL. rosarium a string of beads, L. rosarium a place planted with roses, rosa a rose: cf. F. rosaire. See Rose.]
covertly adv.: Secretly; in private; insidiously.
trenchant a.: Fitted to trench or cut; gutting; sharp. [OF. trenchant, F. tranchant, p. pr. See Trench, v. t.]
boisterous a.: Rough or rude; unbending; unyielding; strong; powerful. [OE. boistous; of uncertain origin; cf. W. bwyst wild, savage, wildness, ferocity, bwystus ferocious.]
formless a.: Shapeless; without a determinate form; wanting regularity of shape.
sepulchre n.: The place in which the dead body of a human being is interred, or a place set apart for that purpose; a grave; a tomb. [OE. sepulcre, OF. sepulcre, F. sépulcre, fr. L. sepulcrum, sepulchrum, fr. sepelire to bury.]
duteous a.: Fulfilling duty; dutiful; having the sentiments due to a superior, or to one to whom respect or service is owed; obedient; as, a duteous son or daughter. [From Duty.]
doted a.: Stupid; foolish.
abode n.: Act of waiting; delay. [OE. abad, abood, fr. abiden to abide. See Abide. For the change of vowel, cf. abode, imp. of abide.]
rode n.: Redness; complexion. [See Rud.]
withering a.: Tending to wither; causing to shrink or fade.
glaring a.: Clear; notorious; open and bold; barefaced; as, a glaring crime.
hast: , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
bedew v. t.: To moisten with dew, or as with dew.
distraught p. p.: Torn asunder; separated. [OE. distract, distrauht. See Distract, a.]
monumental a.: Of, pertaining to, or suitable for, a monument; as, a monumental inscription. [L. monumentalis: cf. F. monumental.]
shall v. i.: To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
mould n.: Crumbling, soft, friable earth; esp., earth containing the remains or constituents of organic matter, and suited to the growth of plants; soil. [OE. molde, AS. molde; akin to D. mul, G. mull, mulm, OHG. molt, molta, Icel. mold, Dan. muld, Sw. mull, Goth. mulda, and E. meal flour. See Meal, and cf. Mole a]
blighting a.: Causing blight.
didst: , the 2d pers. sing. imp. of Do.
carnation n.: The natural color of flesh; rosy pink. [F. carnation the flesh tints in a painting, It carnagione, fr. L. carnatio fleshiness, fr. caro, carnis, flesh. See Carnal.]
cloy v. t.: To fill or choke up; to stop up; to clog. [OE. cloer to nail up, F. clouer, fr. OF. clo nail, F. clou, fr. L. clavus nail. Cf. 3d Clove.]
clung a.: Wasted away; shrunken. [Prop. p. p. fr. OE. clingen to wither. See Cling, v. i.]
mansion n.: A dwelling place, -- whether a part or whole of a house or other shelter. [OF. mansion, F. maison, fr. L. mansio a staying, remaining, a dwelling, habitation, fr. manere, mansum, to stay, dwell; akin to Gr. Manse, Manor, Menagerie, Men]
went n.: Course; way; path; journey; direction.
drove n.: A collection of cattle driven, or cattle collected for driving; a number of animals, as oxen, sheep, or swine, driven in a body. [AS. draf, fr. drifan to drive. See Drive.]
fatally adv.: In a manner proceeding from, or determined by, fate. Bentley.
desperate a.: Without hope; given to despair; hopeless. [L. desperatus, p. p. of desperare. See Despair, and cf. Desperado.]
curious a.: Difficult to please or satisfy; solicitous to be correct; careful; scrupulous; nice; exact. [OF. curios, curius, F. curieux, L. curiosus careful, inquisitive, fr. cura care. See Cure.]
sombre n.: Gloom; obscurity; duskiness; somberness.
gravestone n.: A stone laid over, or erected near, a grave, usually with an inscription, to preserve the memory of the dead; a tombstone.
generous a.: Of honorable birth or origin; highborn. [F. généreux, fr. L. generous of noble birth, noble, excellent, magnanimous, fr. genus birth, race: cf. It. generoso. See 2d Gender.]
sufferer n.: One who suffers; one who endures or undergoes suffering; one who sustains inconvenience or loss; as, sufferers by poverty or sickness; men are sufferers by fire or by losses at sea.
bade: A form of the pat tense of Bid.
affluence n.: A flowing to or towards; a concourse; an influx. [F. affluence, L. affluentia, fr. affluens, p. pr. of affluere to flow to; ad + fluere to flow. See Flux.]
adore v. t.: To worship with profound reverence; to pay divine honors to; to honor as deity or as divine. [OE. aouren, anouren, adoren, OF. aorer, adorer, F. adorer, fr. L. adorare; ad + orare to speak, pray, os, oris, mouth. In OE. confused with honor, the French pr]
lamented a.: Mourned for; bewailed.
martyrdom n.: The condition of a martyr; the death of a martyr; the suffering of death on account of adherence to the Christian faith, or to any cause. [Martyr + -dom.]
amazement n.: The condition of being amazed; bewilderment ; overwhelming wonder, as from surprise, sudden fear, horror, or admiration.
blandly adv.: In a bland manner; mildly; suavely.
aggravate v. t.: To make heavy or heavier; to add to; to increase. [L. aggravatus, p. p. of aggravare. See Aggrieve.]
fruitless a.: Lacking, or not bearing, fruit; barren; destitute of offspring; as, a fruitless tree or shrub; a fruitless marriage.
pilgrimage n.: The journey of a pilgrim; a long journey; especially, a journey to a shrine or other sacred place. Fig., the journey of human life. [OE. pilgrimage, pelgrinage; cf. F. pèlerinage.]
honour n.: Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
wakening n.: The act of one who wakens; esp., the act of ceasing to sleep; an awakening.
smouldering a.: Being in a state of suppressed activity; quiet but not dead.
dwell v. i.: To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
glade n.: An open passage through a wood; a grassy open or cleared space in a forest. [Prob. of Scand. origin, and akin to glad, a.; cf. also W. golead, goleuad, a lighting, illumination, fr. goleu light, clear, bright, goleu fwlch glade, lit., a ]
streamlet n.: A small stream; a rivulet; a rill.
blissful a.: Full of, characterized by, or causing, joy and felicity; happy in the highest degree.
sate v. t.: To satisfy the desire or appetite of; to satiate; to glut; to surfeit. [Probably shortened fr. satiate: cf. L. satus full. See Satiate.]
seraphic a.: Of or pertaining to a seraph; becoming, or suitable to, a seraph; angelic; sublime; pure; refined. [Cf. F. séraphique.]
ambrosial a.: Consisting of, or partaking of the nature of, ambrosia; delighting the taste or smell; delicious.
dreamer n.: One who dreams.
reap n.: A bundle of grain; a handful of grain laid down by the reaper as it is cut. Wright. [Cf. AS. rip harvest. See Reap, v.]
solace n.: Comfort in grief; alleviation of grief or anxiety; also, that which relieves in distress; that which cheers or consoles; relief. [OF. solas, ssoulaz, L. solacium, solatium, fr. solari to comfort, console. Cf. Console, v. t.]
saki n.: Any one of several species of South American monkeys of the genus Pithecia. They have large ears, and a long hairy tail which is not prehensile. [Cf. F. & Pg. saki; probably from the native name.]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Section XIX is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Loves of Laili and Majnun: A Poem from the Original Persian of Nizami, by James Atkinson, edited by the Rev. J. A. Atkinson (London: David Nutt, 1894), reprinting the Oriental Translation Fund edition of 1836, Internet Archive, the James Atkinson translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Nizami Ganjavi, Section XIX, in The Loves of Laili and Majnun (1836), text of Internet Archive, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/nizami-laili-and-majnun/section-xix.html, id L29226.

Form and metre

Section XIX is 570 lines in 19 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 78% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%).

See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 ABABCDCD blue^A · bright^B · through^A · night^B · hour^C · weeps^D · tower^C · keeps^D
2 ABABCCDD years^A · borne^B · tears^A · morn^B · head^C · bed^C · sighs^D · supplies^D
3 AABBCCDDEE ear^A · appear^A · low^B · woe^B · lament^C · rent^C · fled^D · dead^D · bloom^E · tomb^E
4 ABAABCCD-EEFF-DGG cloud^A · face^B · shroud^A · proud^A · place^B · told^C · cold^C · one^D · upon · arrayed^E · displayed^E · eyes^F · disguise^F · mien · been^D · shed^G · dead^G
5 ABABCCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL morn^A · dew^B · thorn^A · grew^B · claim^C · fame^C · blame^C · screen^D · unseen^D · time^E · prime^E · womankind^F · blind^F · keep^G · weep^G · tell^H · swell^H · swim^I · him^I · sleeps^J · weeps^J · rehearse^K · verse^K · bless^L · distress^L
6 ABAB night^A · end^B · light^A · friend^B
7 A-A-BCBC congealed^A · come · concealed^A · gloom · dead^B · trust^C · fled^B · dust^C
8 ABAB light^A · ray^B · night^A · day^B
9 AABBCCCDDEEFFGG-HHIIJJKKLLMM on^A · gone^A · past^B · last^B · day^C · array^C · away^C · face^D · grace^D · lightness^E · brightness^E · aim^F · frame^F · concealed^G · revealed^G · — · tried^H · confide^H · hope^I · scope^I · completing^J · meeting^J · joy^K · boy^K · grows^L · rose^L · meet^M · sweet^M
10 AABBCCDDEEFF--GGHHII------JJKKLLMMNN----OO--PQPQRRSSTT--UUVVWW unknown^A · alone^A · speak^B · cheek^B · they^C · day^C · store^D · door^D · lure^E · secure^E · bound^F · found^F · caught · thought · hung^G · tongue^G · note^H · throat^H · sees^I · ecstasies^I · parterre · declare · thee · minstrelsy · alone · gone · relief^J · grief^J · sweet^K · repeat^K · flew^L · view^L · flight^M · sight^M · arrayed^N · shade^N · enthrone · one · we · constancy · same^O · flame^O · joined · resigned · delight^P · countenance^Q · sight^P · glance^Q · enwreath^R · breath^R · eyes^S · defies^S · cheek^T · speak^T · again · brain · while^U · smile^U · mood^V · endued^V · plain^W · train^W
11 AABBCCDDEE heaven^A · driven^A · soul^B · control^B · above^C · love^C · gone^D · none^D · shrine^E · thine^E
12 AABBCCDDEEEEFFGGHHGGIIJJKK--LLMMNNOPOPOQQRRRSSTTUU--VVWW--XXYYZZaabbcc--ddeeffgghhiijjkkllmm gay^A · away^A · hue^B · dew^B · rills^C · distils^C · air^D · bare^D · pride^E · side^E · delighted^E · blighted^E · passed^F · blast^F · assailed^G · exhaled^G · ground^H · around^H · beheld^G · unveiled^G · knew^I · dew^I · came^J · frame^J · distress^K · loneliness^K · loved · moved · gaze^L · days^L · seen^M · mien^M · start^N · heart^N · away^O · despair^P · prey^O · fair^P · decay^O · strife^Q · life^Q · tide^R · side^R · chide^R · conceal^S · reveal^S · thou^T · now^T · quaffed^U · draught^U · sears · tears · crave^V · grave^V · youth^W · truth^W · come · tomb · there^X · despair^X · intrude^Y · solitude^Y · stay^Z · day^Z · sublime^a · time^a · near^b · bier^b · relate^c · fate^c · o'er · more · free^d · thee^d · true^e · knew^e · oppressed^f · rest^f · passed^g · last^g · child^h · smiled^h · breathⁱ · deathⁱ · tore^j · wore^j · cries^k · skies^k · fell^l · insensible^l · thread^m · dead^m
13 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKK art^A · heart^A · hand^B · brand^B · glow^C · below^C · shore^D · more^D · wave^E · grave^E · air^F · everywhere^F · — · tomb^G · clay^H · stay^H · age^I · page^I · penetrate^J · fate^J · breath^K · death^K
14 AA--BBCC soon^A · moon^A · her · sepulchre · young^B · flung^B · maid^C · paid^C
15 --AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH--IIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRRSSTTUUVVWWXXYYZZaabbccddeeffgghhiijjkkllmmnnooppqqrrss----tt----uuvv-wxxww--yyzzAABBCCDD--EEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMM--NNOOPPQQRRSTSTUU — · wide · tell^A · well^A · o'erwrought^B · thought^B · abode^C · rode^C · perceived^D · grieved^D · preyed^E · arrayed^E · bowers^F · flowers^F · sear^G · sphere^G · word^H · heard^H · stroke · shock · life^I · strife^I · rise^J · eyes^J · groan^K · alone^K · expressed^L · breast^L · around^M · ground^M · rent^N · lament^N · threads^O · spreads^O · where^P · air^P · plain^Q · brain^Q · hies^R · flies^R · view^S · bedew^S · clasp^T · asp^T · moan^U · stone^U · behold^V · mould^V · gust^W · dust^W · grace^X · place^X · flower^Y · bower^Y · seen^Z · green^Z · cold^a · behold^a · fair^b · bear^b · shrouded^c · clouded^c · mole^d · soul^d · thine^e · mine^e · dear^f · here^f · gives^g · lives^g · life^h · strife^h · burstⁱ · thirstⁱ · cloy^j · joy^j · bright^k · light^k · clung^l · sprung^l · way^m · lay^m · nearⁿ · rearⁿ · went^o · bent^o · plains^p · strains^p · flow^q · woe^q · mind^r · behind^r · grief^s · relief^s · again · remain · beneath · death · breast^t · impressed^t · mood · blood · remote · spot · eyes^u · lies^u · meet^v · retreat^v · laid · dead^w · before^x · implore^x · led^w · head^w · again · plain · passed^y · last^y · alone^z · stone^z · face^A · place^A · thou^B · now^B · woe^C · know^C · nursed^D · worst^D · mockery · me · will^E · still^E · joy^F · annoy^F · long^G · wrong^G · more^H · adore^H · dear^I · here^I · i^J · die^J · tomb^K · martyrdom^K · trust^L · dust^L · stood^M · blood^M · give · live · found^N · wound^N · passed^O · last^O · bereft^P · left^P · blight^Q · night^Q · shed^R · spread^R · hear^S · free^T · here^S · thee^T · head^U · fled^U
16 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQ pilgrimage^A · stage^A · claim^B · blame^B · throne^C · known^C · light^D · bright^D · scene^E · been^E · possessed^F · blessed^F · day^G · prey^G · around^H · found^H · breeze^I · bees^I · place^J · race^J · kept^K · slept^K · died^L · descried^L · fame^M · came^M · white^N · rite^N · wide^O · side^O · bed^P · dead^P · doom^Q · tomb^Q
17 AA---BBCCCDDEEFFEEGGHHII-HJJKKLLMM--NN--OOPPQQ chronicle^A · dwell^A · faith · death · — · bride^B · side^B · night^C · sight^C · delight^C · lay^D · array^D · gleaming^E · beaming^E · bowers^F · flowers^F · among^E · song^E · swell^G · shell^G · glade^H · shade^H · behold^I · gold^I · spread · strayed^H · state^J · sate^J · light^K · bright^K · wet^L · met^L · revealing^M · feeling^M · saw · awe · pair^N · bear^N · moon · majnún · bliss^O · this^O · dream^P · theme^P · love^Q · above^Q
18 AABBCCDDEE repose^A · bestows^A · stay^B · away^B · wring^C · sting^C · secure^D · pure^D · soul^E · goal^E
19 AABBCCDD sung^A · strung^A · high^B · why^B · never^C · ever^C · woes^D · glows^D

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
How beautifully blue	5	·/˘˘·
The firmament! how bright	6	·/˘˘··
The moon is sailing through	6	···/˘·
The vast expanse, to-night!	6	··˘/··
And at this lovely hour	7	···/˘/˘
The lonely Lailí weeps	5	·/˘··
Within her prison-tower,	7	···/˘/˘
And her sad record keeps—	6	···˘/·
How many days, how many years,	8	·/˘··/˘·
Her sorrows she has borne!	6	·/˘···
A lingering age of sighs and tears;	9	·/˘˘·····
A night that has no morn:	6	······
Yet in that guarded tower she lays her head,	10	···/˘/····
Shut like a gem within its stony bed.	10	·······/˘·
And who the warder of that place of sighs?	10	···/˘·····
Her husband!—he the dragon-watch supplies	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
What words are those which meet her anxious ear?	10	·······/˘·
Unusual sounds, unusual sights appear;	10	˘/˘·˘/˘·˘/
Lamps flickering round, and wailings sad and low,	10	·/˘··/˘···
Seem to proclaim some sudden burst of woe.	10	··˘/·/˘···
Beneath her casement rings a wild lament;	10	···/˘···˘/
Death-notes disturb the night; the air is rent	10	··˘/······
With clamorous voices; every hope is fled;	11	·/˘˘/˘/˘···
He breathes no longer—Ibn Salám is dead!	10	···/˘/˘···
The fever's rage had nipped him in his bloom;	10	·/˘·······
He sank unloved, unpitied, to the tomb.	10	··˘/˘/˘···
And Lailí marks the moon; a cloud	7	·······
Had stained its lucid face;	6	···/˘·
The mournful token of a shroud,	8	·/˘/˘···
End of the humble and the proud,	8	···/˘···
The grave their resting-place.	6	···/˘·
And now to her the tale is told,	8	········
Her husband's hand and heart are cold:	8	·/˘·····
And must she mourn the death of one	8	········
Whom she had loathed to look upon?	8	········
In customary garb arrayed,	8	·/˘·˘·˘/
The pomp of grief must be displayed—	8	······˘/
Dishevelled tresses, streaming eyes,	8	˘/˘/˘/˘·
The heart remaining in disguise—	8	··˘/˘·˘/
She seemed, distraction in her mien,	8	··˘/˘···
To feel her loss, if loss had been;	8	········
But all the burning tears she shed	8	···/˘···
Were for her own Majnún, not for the dead!	10	··········
The rose that hailed the purple morn,	8	·····/˘·
All glistening with the balmy dew,	9	·/˘˘··/˘·
Looked still more lonely when the thorn	8	···/˘···
Had been removed from where it grew.	8	··˘/····
But Arab laws had still their claim	8	·/˘·····
Upon a virtuous widow's fame.	9	···/˘˘/˘·
And what destroyed all chance of blame?	8	··˘/····
Two years to droop behind the screen;	8	········
Two years unseeing, and unseen!	7	·····˘/
No, not a glance in all that time,	8	········
Blooming in life's luxurious prime,	9	/˘··˘/˘˘·
Was e'er allowed to womankind;	8	··˘/·/˘˘
Since, but to household faces blind,	8	···/·/˘·
She must at home her vigils keep,	8	·····/˘·
Her business still to groan and weep.	8	·/˘·····
And Lailí weeps; but who can tell	7	·······
What secrets may her bosom swell?	8	·/˘··/˘·
The beauteous eyes in tears may swim,	9	·/˘˘·····
The heart may throb, but not for him	8	········
Who in the grave unconscious sleeps—	8	·····/˘·
Alone for Majnún Lailí weeps!	7	˘/·····
Accustomed hourly to rehearse	8	˘/˘/˘·˘/
Her distant lover's glowing verse,	8	·/˘/˘/˘·
Framed like a spell to charm and bless,	8	········
And soothe her heart's extreme distress.	8	····˘/˘/
'O what a night! a long and dreary night!	10	·······/˘·
It is not night, but darkness without end;	10	·····/˘···
Awful extinction of ethereal light,	10	/˘˘/˘·˘/˘·
Companionless I sit, without one friend.	10	˘/˘˘······
'Is the immortal source of light congealed?	10	··˘/˘···˘/
Or has the dreadful day of judgment come?	10	···/˘··/˘·
Nature's fair form beneath a pall concealed;	10	/˘······˘/
Oh! what a night of soul-destroying gloom!	10	······˘/˘·
Can the shrill wakener of the morn be dead?	11	···/˘˘·····
Is the Mowazzin heedless of his trust?	10	·····/˘···
Has the lone warder from his watch-tower fled,	10	···/˘···/·
Or, weary of his task, returned to dust?	10	·/˘···˘/··
'O God! restore to me the joyous light	10	··˘/···/˘·
Which first illumed my heart—the golden ray	10	·······/˘·
Of youthful love—that from this prison, night,	10	·/˘····/˘·
I may escape and feel the bliss of day!'	10	··˘/······
Years, days, how slowly they roll on!	8	···/˘···
And yet, how quickly life is gone!	8	···/˘···
The future soon becomes the past—	8	·/˘·˘/··
Ceaseless the course of time. At last	8	/˘······
The morning came; the king of day	8	·/˘·····
Arose in festival array,	8	˘/·/˘˘˘/
And Lailí's night had passed away:	7	·····˘/
Her morn of beauty o'er her face,	8	···/˘···
Shining, resumed its wonted grace;	8	/˘˘/·/˘·
And with soft step of fairy lightness	9	·····/˘/˘
She moved, a glittering moon in brightness.	10	···/˘˘··/˘
And what was now her highest aim?	8	·····/˘·
The impulse quivering through her frame?	9	·/˘/˘˘···
Her secret love, so long concealed,	8	·/˘···˘/
She now without a blush revealed.	8	······˘/
And first she called her faithful Zỹd,	8	·····/˘·
On many a tender mission tried,	9	·/˘·/˘/˘·
In whom her heart could best confide:	8	······˘/
'To-day is not the day of hope,	8	········
Which only gives to fancy scope;	8	·/˘··/˘·
It is the day our hopes completing,	10	····/˘·˘/˘
It is the lover's day of meeting!	9	···/˘··/˘
Rise up! the world is full of joy;	8	········
Rise up! and serve thy mistress, boy;	8	·····/˘·
Together, where the cypress grows,	8	˘/˘··/˘·
Place the red tulip and the rose;	8	···/˘···
And let the long-dissevered meet—	8	········
Two lovers, in communion sweet.'	8	·/˘·˘/˘·
They met; but how? hearts long to joy unknown	10	········˘/
Know not what 'tis to be, except alone;	10	········˘/
Feeling intense had checked the power to speak;	10	/˘˘/···/··
Silent confusion sat upon each cheek;	10	/˘˘/˘·····
Speechless with love unutterable, they	10	/˘··˘/˘˘˘·
Stood gazing at each other all the day.	10	·/˘··/˘···
Thus when a chamber holds no golden store,	10	···/˘··/˘·
No lock protects the ever-open door;	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
But when rich hoards of gold become a lure,	10	······˘/··
A lock is placed to keep that wealth secure;	10	········˘/
So when the heart is full, the voice is bound—	10	··········
For ready speech with grief is rarely found.	10	·/˘····/˘·
Lailí, with looks of love, was first who caught	9	·········
The soft expression of her bursting thought:	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
'Alas!' she said, as over him she hung,	10	˘/········
'What wondrous grief is this that chains the tongue?	10	·/˘·······
The bulbul, famed for his mellifluous note,	11	·/˘···˘/˘˘·
Without the rose can swell his tuneful throat;	10	·······/˘·
And when in fragrant bowers the rose he sees,	10	···/˘/····
He warbles sweeter still his ecstasies.	10	·/˘/˘··/˘˘
Thou art the bulbul of the bright parterre,	10	···/˘···˘/
And I the rose—why not thy love declare?	10	········˘/
Why, being absent, whilst unseen by thee,	10	·/˘/˘·˘/··
Arose to heaven thy voice and minstrelsy?	11	˘/·/˘···/˘˘
And now, at length, when we are met, alone,	10	········˘/
Thy love has vanished, and thy voice is gone!'	10	···/˘·····
A gush of tears to Majnún gave relief:	10	········˘/
Words came: 'The misery mine, and mine the grief:	10	···/˘·····
The memory of those lips, so balmy sweet,	10	·/˘····/˘·
Bound up my tongue, which would their charms repeat.	10	········˘/
When I, a falcon, through the woodlands flew,	10	···/˘··/··
The spotted partridge never met my view;	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
And now when I'm unequal to the flight,	10	····˘/˘···
The long-sought beauteous bird has come in sight:	11	···/˘˘·····
The substance thou, in angel-charms arrayed,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
And what am I? I know not—but a shade;	10	··········
Without thee nothing. Fancy would enthrone	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
Us both together, melted into one;	10	··˘/˘/˘···
And thus united to each other, we	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Are equal—equal in our constancy:	11	·/˘/˘·/˘/˘˘
Two bodies with one heart and soul the same;	10	·/˘·······
Two tapers with one pure celestial flame;	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
Of the same essence formed, together joined,	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Two drops in one, each soul to each resigned.'	10	········˘/
He paused, and, with ineffable delight,	10	····˘/˘˘˘/
Lailí gazed on his glowing countenance,	9	····/˘/˘˘
So long estranged and hidden from her sight.	10	··˘/·/˘···
Now throbs his heart at every fondling glance:	10	·····/˘/˘·
The fragrance of her ringlets which enwreath	10	·/˘·······
Her smooth round neck, her jasmine-scented breath,	10	·····/˘/˘·
The sweet confession of her tremulous eyes,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
The ardent love which time and chance defies,	10	·/˘·····˘/
The chin of dimpled sweetness, the soft cheek,	10	···/˘/˘···
The open ruby lips prepared to speak,	10	·/˘/˘·˘/··
Madden his finer feelings, and again	10	/˘·/˘/˘·˘/
A sudden tempest rushes through his brain;	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Furious he gazes round him for a while,	10	/˘·/˘·····
Then looks at Lailí with a ghastly smile;	9	······/˘·
Rends off his Jama-dress in frantic mood,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Starts, as with more than human force endued,	10	·····/˘·˘/
And, shouting, hurries to the desert plain,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Followed by all his savage vassal-train.	10	/˘···/˘/˘·
His love was chaste and pure as heaven:	9	·······/˘
But by excess to madness driven,	9	··˘/·/˘/˘
Visions of rapture filled his soul;	8	/˘·/˘···
His thoughts sublime despised control;	8	··˘/˘/˘/
A joy allied to joys above	8	··˘/····
Was mingled with his dreamy love:	8	·/˘··/˘·
O Majnún! Lost, for ever gone;	8	·····/˘·
The world is full of love, but none,	8	········
None ever bowed at beauty's shrine	8	·/˘··/˘·
With such a sinless soul as thine.	8	···/˘···
In summer all is bright and gay;	8	·/˘·····
In autumn verdure fades away,	8	·/˘/˘·˘/
The trees assume a sickly hue,	8	··˘/·/˘·
Unnourished by the fragrant dew;	8	·····/˘·
The genial sap, through numerous rills,	9	·/˘··/˘˘·
From root and branch and leaf distils;	8	······˘/
But, drying in the chilly air,	8	·/˘··/˘·
The groves become despoiled and bare;	8	··˘/····
Sapless, the garden's flowery pride	9	/˘·/˘/˘˘·
The winds disperse on every side,	9	··˘/·/˘˘·
And all that sight and smell delighted	9	······˘/˘
Is by the ruthless season blighted.	9	···/˘/˘/˘
So Lailí's summer hours have passed;	8	··/˘/˘··
And now she feels the autumnal blast;	9	·····˘/˘·
Her bowers, her blooming bowers, assailed,	10	·/˘·/˘/˘˘/
The perfume of the rose exhaled,	8	·˘/···˘/
Its withered leaves bestrew the ground,	8	·/˘·˘/··
And desolation reigns around:	8	··˘/˘···
For from the moment she beheld	8	···/˘·˘/
Her lover's mental state unveiled,	8	·/˘/˘·˘/
Her heart no consolation knew,	8	····˘/˘·
Deprived of hope's refreshing dew.	8	˘/··˘/˘·
Ere that o'erwhelming misery came,	9	·····/˘˘·
Thoughts of new life upheld her frame:	8	····˘/··
Amidst her bitterest weeping and distress,	10	˘/·/˘/˘·˘/
'Mid the dark broodings of her loneliness,	10	···/˘··/˘˘
Though crushed her feelings, and the man she loved	10	···/˘·····
A wanderer of the forest, strangely moved,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Still was there hope, still was her mental gaze	10	·······/˘·
Fixed on the expected joys of after-days.	11	···˘/˘·····
But now all hope had perished!—she had seen	10	·····/˘···
The frenzied workings of that noble mien:	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The fit delirious, the appalling start,	10	··˘/˘·˘/˘·
And grief and terror seized her trembling heart.	10	···/˘··/˘·
No tears she sheds, but pines away	8	······˘/
In deep entire despair;	7	··˘/˘˘/
The worm has seized its destined prey,	8	·····/˘·
The blight is on that face so fair,	8	········
And fearful symptoms of a swift decay	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
Come o'er her delicate frame, that in the strife	10	···/˘·····
She almost sinks beneath the load of life.	10	·/········
Feeling the ebbing of the vital tide,	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
She calls her weeping mother to her side.	10	···/˘/˘···
'Mother! my hour is come, thou need'st no longer chide;	12	/˘·/·····/˘·
For now no longer can my heart conceal	10	···/˘···˘/
What once 'twas useless to reveal;	8	···/˘·˘/
Yet, spite of thy affection, thou	8	····˘/˘·
Mayst blame my fatal passion now.	8	···/˘/˘·
But I have in my rapture quaffed	8	·····/˘·
Poison in love's delicious draught;	8	/˘··˘/˘·
And feel the agony which sears	8	···/˘˘··
The soul, and dries the source of tears.	8	········
O mother! mother! all I crave,	8	·/˘/˘···
When I am pillowed in my grave,	8	···/˘···
Is that the anguish-stricken youth,	8	···/˘/˘·
Whose wondrous constancy and truth	8	·/˘/˘˘··
Blended our souls in one, may come	9	/˘/˘·····
And weep upon his Lailí's tomb.	7	·······
Forbid him not; but let him there	8	˘/······
Pour forth the flood of his despair,	8	······˘/
And no unhallowed step intrude	8	··˘/˘·˘/
Upon his sacred solitude.	8	···/˘/˘·
For he to me, my life, my stay,	8	········
Was precious as the light of day.	8	·/˘·····
Amazing was his love, sublime,	8	˘/˘···˘/
Which mocked the wonted power of time;	9	···/˘/˘··
And when thou seest him grovelling near,	9	·····/˘˘·
Wildly lamenting o'er my bier,	8	/˘˘/˘···
Frown not, but kindly, soothingly relate	10	···/˘/˘˘˘/
Whate'er thou knowest of my disastrous fate.	12	˘˘/·/˘··˘/˘·
Say to that woe-worn wanderer,—" All is o'er;	10	·····/˘···
Lailí, thy own sad friend, is now no more;	9	·········
From this world's heavy chains for ever free,	10	···/˘··/˘·
To thee her heart was given—she died for thee!	10	·····/····
With love so blended was her life, so true	10	···/˘·····
That glowing love, no other joy she knew.	10	·/˘··/˘···
No worldly cares her thoughts had e'er oppressed;	10	·/˘·····˘/
The love of thee alone disturbed her rest;	10	····˘/˘/··
And in that love her gentle spirit passed,	10	·····/˘/˘·
Breathing on thee her blessing to the last."'	10	/˘···/˘···
The mournful mother gazed upon her child,	10	·/˘/˘·····
Now voiceless—though her lips imploring smiled;	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
Saw the dread change, the sudden pause of breath—	10	·····/˘···
Her beauty settled in the trance of death;	10	·/˘/˘·····
And, in the frenzy of her anguish, tore	10	···/˘··/˘·
Her hoary locks, the 'broidered dress she wore;	10	·/˘·······
Dissolved in tears, her wild and sorrowing cries	10	˘/·····/˘·
Brought down compassion from the weeping skies;	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
And so intense her grief, she shivering fell	10	··˘/···/˘·
Prostrate upon the corse, insensible,	10	/˘····˘/˘˘
And never, never rose again—the thread	10	·/˘/˘·˘/··
Of life was broke—both, clasped together, dead!	10	······˘/˘·
O world! how treacherous thou art!	8	···/˘˘··
With angel-form and demon's heart;	8	·/˘··/˘·
A rosary of beads in hand,	8	·/˘˘····
And, covertly, a trenchant brand.	8	·˘/˘·/˘·
The rolling heavens with azure glow,	9	·/˘/˘·/˘·
But storms o'erwhelm our hopes below;	9	····/˘···
The ship is tossed upon the shore,	8	········
The wanderer meets his friends no more:	9	·/˘˘·····
On flowery field, or boisterous wave,	10	·/˘˘··/˘˘·
Alike is found a yawning grave;	8	˘/···/˘·
For formless, riding through the air,	8	·/˘/˘···
Devouring death is everywhere;	9	˘/˘˘··/˘·
Khosrú, and Kai-kobád, and Júm,	7	·······
Have all descended to the tomb;	8	··˘/˘···
And who, composed of mortal clay,	8	··˘/·/˘·
The universal doom can stay?	8	··˘/˘···
For this, in vain, have youth and age	8	········
Pondered o'er learning's mystic page;	8	/˘·/˘/˘·
No human power can penetrate	9	·/˘/˘·/˘·
The mysteries of all-ruling fate;	9	·/˘˘··/˘·
Frail life is but a moment's breath;	8	·····/˘·
The world, alas! is full of death.	8	··˘/····
How many wept that fair one, gone so soon!	10	·/˘·······
How many wept o'er that departed moon!—	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
How many mourned with broken hearts for her!	10	·/˘··/˘···
How many bathed with tears her sepulchre!	9	·/˘······
Round her pure dust assembled old and young,	10	····˘/˘···
And on the sod their fragrant offerings flung;	10	·····/˘/˘·
Hallowed the spot where amorous youth and maid	10	/˘···/˘···
In after-times their duteous homage paid.	11	·····/˘˘/˘·
Again it was the task of faithful Zỹd,	10	˘/·····/˘·
Through far-extending plain and forest wide,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
To seek the man of many woes, and tell	10	·····/˘···
The fate of her, alas! he loved so well,	10	····˘/····
Loved, doted on, until his mind, o'erwrought,	10	·/˘·······
Was crushed beneath intolerable thought.	10	····˘/˘˘˘·
—With bleeding heart he found his lone abode,	10	·/˘·····˘/
Watering with tears the path on which he rode,	10	/˘········
And beating his sad breast, Majnún perceived	10	·/˘·····˘/
His friend approach, and asked him why he grieved;	10	··˘/······
What withering sorrow on his cheek had preyed,	10	·/˘/˘·····
And why in melancholy black arrayed.	10	···/˘·˘·˘/
'Alas!' he cried, 'the hail has crushed my bowers;	11	˘/·······/˘
A sudden storm has blighted all my flowers;	11	·/˘··/˘··/˘
Thy cypress-tree o'erthrown, the leaves are sear;	10	·/˘·······
The moon has fallen from her lucid sphere;	10	···/˘··/˘·
Lailí is dead!' No sooner was the word	9	····/˘···
Uttered, no sooner the dread tidings heard,	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
Than Majnún, sudden as the lightning's stroke	10	···/˘··/˘·
Sank on the ground, unconscious, with the shock,	10	·····/˘···
And there lay motionless, as if his life	10	···/˘˘····
Had been extinguished in that mortal strife.	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
But, soon recovering, he prepared to rise,	10	··˘/˘·˘/··
Rewakened frenzy glaring in his eyes,	10	···/˘/˘···
And, starting on his feet, a hollow groan	10	·/˘····/˘·
Burst from his heart. 'Now, now, I am alone!	10	········˘/
Why hast thou harrowing words like these expressed?	10	···/˘···˘/
Why hast thou plunged a dagger in my breast?	10	·····/˘···
Away! away!' The savage beasts around,	10	˘/˘/·/˘···
In a wide circle couched upon the ground,	10	···/˘·····
Wondering looked on, whilst furiously he rent	10	/˘···/˘˘··
His tattered garments, and his loud lament	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
Rang through the echoing forest. Now he threads	10	···/˘/˘···
The mazes of the shadowy wood, which spreads	10	·/˘··/˘···
Perpetual gloom, and now emerges where	10	˘/˘···˘/˘·
Nor bower nor grove obstructs the fiery air;	10	·/··˘/·/˘·
Climbs to the mountain's brow, o'er hill and plain	10	···/˘·····
Urged quicker onwards by his burning brain,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Across the desert's arid boundary hies;	10	˘/·/˘/˘/˘·
Zỹd, like his shadow, following where he flies;	10	···/·/˘···
And when the tomb of Lailí meets his view,	9	·········
Prostrate he falls, the ground his tears bedew;	10	/˘······˘/
Rolling distraught, he spreads his arms to clasp	10	/˘˘/······
The sacred temple, writhing like an asp:	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Despair and horror swell his ceaseless moan,	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
And still he clasps the monumental stone.	10	······˘/˘·
'Alas!' he cries—' No more shall I behold	10	˘/······˘/
That angel-face, that form of heavenly mould.	10	·/˘····/˘·
She was the rose I cherished—but a gust	10	·····/˘···
Of blighting wind has laid her in the dust.	10	·/˘·······
She was my favourite cypress, full of grace,	11	······/˘···
But death has snatched her from her biding-place.	10	·······/˘·
The tyrant has deprived me of the flower	11	·/˘·˘/···/˘
I planted in my own sequestered bower;	11	·/˘···˘/˘/˘
The Basil sweet, the choicest ever seen,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Cruelly torn and scattered o'er the green.	9	/˘··/˘···
O beauteous flower! nipped by the winter's cold,	11	·/˘˘/···/˘·
Gone from a world thou never didst behold.	10	·····/˘·˘/
O bower of joy! with blossoms fresh and fair,	10	·/···/˘···
But doomed, alas! no ripened fruit to bear.	10	··˘/·/˘···
Where shall I find thee now, in darkness shrouded!	11	·······/˘/˘
Those eyes of liquid light for ever clouded!	11	···/˘··/˘/˘
Where those carnation lips, that musky mole	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Upon thy cheek, that treasure of the soul!	10	·····/˘···
Though hidden from my view those charms of thine,	10	·/˘·······
Still do they bloom in this fond heart of mine;	10	··········
Though far removed from all I held so dear,	10	··˘/······
Though all I loved on earth be buried here,	10	·······/˘·
Remembrance to the past enchantment gives,	10	˘/˘···˘/˘·
Memory, blest memory, in my heart still lives.	10	/˘·/˘·····
Yes! thou hast quitted this contentious life,	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
This scene of endless treachery and strife;	10	···/˘/˘˘··
And I like thee shall soon my fetters burst,	10	·······/˘·
And quench in draughts of heavenly love my thirst:	10	·····/˘···
There, where angelic bliss can never cloy,	10	···/˘··/˘·
We soon shall meet in everlasting joy;	10	······˘/˘·
The taper of our souls, more clear and bright,	10	·/˘·/·····
Will then be lustrous with immortal light!'	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
He ceased, and from the tomb to which he clung	10	··········
Suddenly to a distance wildly sprung,	10	/˘˘··/˘/˘·
And, seated on his camel, took the way	10	·/˘··/˘···
Leading to where his father's mansion lay;	10	/˘···/˘/˘·
His troop of vassal-beasts, as usual, near,	10	···/˘··/˘·
With still unchanged devotion, front and rear;	10	··˘/˘/˘···
Yet, all unconscious, reckless where he went;	10	···/˘/˘···
The sport of passion, on no purpose bent,	10	···/˘··/˘·
He sped along, or stopped; the woods and plains	10	··˘/······
Resounding with his melancholy strains;	10	˘/˘··/˘·˘·
Such strains as from a broken spirit flow,	10	·····/˘/˘·
The wailings of unmitigable woe;	10	·/˘·······
But the same frenzy which had fired his mind	10	···/˘··/··
Strangely to leave his Lailí's grave behind,	9	/˘·······
Now drove him back, and with augmented grief,	10	······˘/˘·
All sighs and tears, and hopeless of relief,	10	·····/˘·˘/

The first 400 of 570 lines; the reader marks them all.

The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.

More by Nizami Ganjavi

The Loves of Laili and Majnun