 FORWARD OF COLORED STARS, VERSIONS OF FIFTY ASIATIC LOVEPOMES, VERSIONS OF FIFTY ASIATIC LOVEPOMES, by Edward Powes Mathers. FORWARD There is an opportunity of knowing in brilliant English translations much of the poetry of China and Japan, of India and Persia, and Arabic poetry is accessible. But I believe this book to be the first general English anthology of Asiatic verse. It is haphazard, as such books must be, until some polyglot scholar gives a whole life to the matter. Variety was the only aim possible in a space so small, and therefore I have selected love poems of different centuries and of both primitive and subtle peoples. If readers care to turn to anthology de l'amour asiatique, compiled by Adolfo Thalassa, the late editor of The Review Oriental in Constantinople, they will find a full and clear study of Asia's love poetry and see also how much I owe to this erudite and stimulating authority. Asiatic Thalassa's work first showed me beauty and interest in the songs of almost unknown literatures. In some instances I have translated directly and only from his book, in others I have gratefully taken his direction and traced poems back to their sources. Versions also of some of the Chinese poems given here will be found in the incomparable Livre des Jades of Madame Judith Gautier. Reference to the texts of other poems is easily made at various libraries, except with regard to a dozen which I have personally collected. These last have not before, I think, been given a European form. E. P. M. London, 1918 of Forward. Section I of Colored Stars. Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Shade of the Orange Leaves from the Chinese of Tin Tuan Ling. The young girl that entered chamber from dawn till eve alone. Her silk flowers on robes deliciously shutters at the unexpected sound of a far flute. It seems to her that the voice of a young man is kissing her ear, and when across the oiled paper of the high windows the Orange Leaves come in touch and make their shadows run on her knees. It seems to her that a hand is tearing her robe of silk and of shade of the Orange Leaves. Section II of Colored Stars. Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. The dalliance of the Leopards. From the Sanskrit Fifth Century. Very afraid I saw the dalliance of the Leopards. In the beauty of their coats they sought each other and embraced. Had I gone between them then and pulled them asunder by their mains I would have run less risk than when I passed in my boat and saw you standing on a dead tree ready to dive and kindle the river. End of The Dalliance of the Leopards. Section III of Colored Stars. Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Warsaw from Altai. Two bodies straight as palm trees. Two hips as supple as reeds. We prefer the straights staffs of our banners. Where supply floats our aura flame of sun. Our banners guilt like scimitars that catch the sunset. To silk hair red is burning coals. To silk hair black is coals burned out. To hair that is dawn or night on girls heads. We prefer the tufts floating in fight. Tufts of gold hair or black hair pulled from the tails of our black horses. To shining white breast on virgin bodies firm as the thrice-tried bronze and round like marble cups when subtle and swooning odors come. We prefer the clash of our sabers triple-tried in the shining of our round shields like mighty cups. To the murderous arrows of black eyes made blacker by the bow of brass and the coal of love given and love taken. The dear darkness about eyes for love's sake. We prefer the murderous arrows that stretch our bows in fight. The arrows of black eyes are tipped with kisses, not kept back. Not only sped at willing hearts, in the tips gash chance hearts often enough and give death where no battle is waged. But the arrows of our bows sow death only among the hardy foe. Two bodies yielding under the struggle of love and raring under the red fire of kisses. We prefer our horses tricked with silver and gold, our horses that yield not beneath us and bound only at the sight of the blood of battles. End of War Song Section 4 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powys Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima. Black hair from the afghan of Muhammadji, 19th century. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. Last night my hands were thrust in the mystery of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the sweetness of pomegranates, and among the scents of the harvest above my queen's neck, the harvest of black hair. My teeth played with the golden skin of her two ears. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. Your kisses went plundering the scents of my harvest, O friend, and the scents laid you drunk at my side as sleep overcame Bahram in the bed of Sir Asya, so sleep overcame you on my bed. I know one that has sworn you are hurt for stealing the roses from my cheeks, has sworn you are hurt even to death, the guardian of black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. My hurt, darling, the sky will guard me if you wish me guarded, but now for my defense, dearest, roll me a cudgel of black hair and give me the whiteness of your face. I am hungry for it like a little bird. Still, if you wish me there, loosen me among the wantoness of black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. Sweet friend, I will part the curtain of black hair and let you into the white garden of my breast, but I fear you will despise me and not look back when you go away. I am so beautiful and so white that the lamp-light faints to see my face, and also God has given me for adornment my heavy black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. He has made you beautiful, even among his most beautiful. I am your little slave, O Queen, cast me a little look. I sent you the message of love at the dawn of day, but my heart is stung by a snake, the snake of black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. Fear not, dear friend, I am the charmer. My breath will charm the snake upon your heart, but who will charm the snake on my honor, my sad honor? If you love me, let us go from packly. My husband is horrible. From this forth I give you command over black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when plundering the softness of black hair. Muhamadji has power over the poets of packly. He takes tax from the amateurs of Great Delhi. He reigns over an empire and governs with a scepter of black hair. Last night my kisses drowned in the softness of black hair, and my kisses like bees when to plundering the softness of black hair. End of black hair. Section 5 of Colored Stars, Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Garden of Bamboos, A Street Song of Anam. I live all alone, and I am a young girl. I write long letters and do not know anyone to send them to. Most tender things speak in my heart. And I can only say them to the bamboos in the garden. Waiting on my feet, lifting the mat a little behind the door. All day I watch the shadows of the people that pass. End of the Garden of Bamboos. Section 6 of Colored Stars, Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Eyes that move not. From the Chinese of Lai Wai Hain. The ashes are cold in the gold of the perfume-brazier. It is shaped like a fantastic lion. Reavishly I fidget under the red wave of my bed-clothes, and suddenly I throw them from me to get up. But I have not the courage to undertake. My hair-dressing, the comb is too heavy for my dejection. I leave the dust to tarnish the precious things on my toilet-table. Already the sun has reached the height of the hasp that holds up the curtain. This grief that I have hidden from all, this grief at a departure-threatening, becomes more bitter still. Things to say come as far as my lips, and I press them back into my heart. It is indeed a new thing for me to feel, a torment. This is not an illness caused by getting drunk nor by the melancholy of approaching autumn. Ah, it is finished, it is finished. He goes away today. If I sang ten thousand times the, stay here by me, song, yet he would not stay. Now my mind has gone on a journey to the south, to his country, which is very far away. Look, see, the mist encumbers my pavilion. Before my eyes is but the water running round about. It is my grief's sole witness and may be astonished to reflect so long and long the stupefaction of my eyes that move not. Ah, heavier still, hereafter shall my regard weigh down on you pale mirror, for even as I speak it is accomplished this harm, this sadness of eyes that move not, and of eyes that move not. Chapter 7 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Ghazal, from the Hindustani of Dilsa's eighteenth century. If the proud girl I love would cast a glance behind her, as down the road she swings in her bright palanquin, she would see her lover on foot with empty hands, like the white buds of two bros in a dark night, through the lines of beetle shine out her white teeth. When she puts henna on her hands and dives in the soft river, one would think one saw fire twisting and running in the water. Chapter 8 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Doubt, from the Japanese of Horikawa. Will he be true to me? That I do not know. But since the dawn, I have had as much disorder in my thoughts as in my black hair. End of Doubt. Chapter 9 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Song, Love Song of Tibet. Like the fine and silky hair of our goats, which climb up very high on the peaks of an inaccessible kara karun, so fine and silky is the hair of my girl. Her eyes are soft as the eyes of the goats that call their males on the mountain. Her eyes are soft as the eyes of the goats that hold the heavy teat to their young. Her eyes have the color of topaz with which she decks her head and neck and this topaz has the soft color of the soft eyes, very soft eyes of our goats. Her body apt for work is slight and supple, as slight and supple as the bounds which our goats make when they leap on the curved flanks of the summit of Dapsang. Her cheeks are ever fresh to my lips, fresh like the milk I draw daily when the goats come back to the stable from the swelling udders that sweep the ground. End of Song. Section 10 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. My Desire from the Burmese of Asmapur, 19th Century When in your floating robe woven with red silk and golden, in your floating robe held round your hips by a broidered belt, showing all curves of your reckless body, you pass me by, eyeing me boldly with provocative eyes and sending me from your lips teasing smiles. Then I feel from your eyes live like two diamonds, from the minds of Singh Foss and from the smile of your lips that smells so sweet of Senpal and from your breathing body that your long robe shows. I feel come to me a wild and mad desire, long, long to kiss your mouth and your teeth painted with beetle, long, long to possess your loving and breathing body, shown and hidden by your long floating robe, woven with red silk and golden. When this desire draws me to thee, as the oaks of mandalay draw the lightning, my desire is a stallion that must have his mare, my desire is a jaguar calling his female, my desire is an elephant seeking his mate, your floating robe in your body, your eyes in your smile. Draw my desire to thee, as if your hands had passed chains through the rings of my ears and dragged me ever behind your feet, as life draws breath, desire draws me to thee. When in the month of flowers snow piled on Umidong falls from the mountain on a devouring torrent, sweeps in his passage trees, houses, beasts and men, and nothing is able to stay his great course that grows greater and greater and drowns with his waters, the waters of Kinduen. So violent is my desire for thy desire, it overturns all things in coming to thee, it smothers the precepts that Godama gave us and drowns all the laws of the Lord of the Elephant. What does your husband matter, what does your family matter? I desire you, I long for you, with a wild and a mad love, my desire is a torrent falling from the mountain, nothing can stay it, it breaks and upheaves, I desire you, I long for you, with a wild and a mad love, I want to kiss your eyes, I want to kiss your mouth, I want to have your desire and your body, no torrent so strong as my desire for your body. The desire drawing me to thee is natural, like the torrent that falls from the heights of Umidong, like the lightning which falls on the oaks of Mandalay. Of nature natural is the desire that draws me to thee, and of my desire. Section XI of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Distitch from the Persian of Umara, Tenth Century, ah, would that I could hide within my songs, and every time you sang them, kiss your lips, and of Distitch. Section XII of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Song Kefiristan Since you love me and I love you, the rest matters not. I will cut grass in the fields, and you will sell it for beasts. Since you love me and I love you, the rest matters not. I will sow maize in the fields, and you will sell it for people. Section XIII of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima The emperor, from the Chinese of Thaofu. On a throne of new gold, the sun of the sky is sitting among his mandarins. He shines with jewels and is like a sun surrounded by stars. The mandarins speak gravely of grave things, but the emperor's thought is flown out by the open window. In her pavilion of porcelain the empress is sitting among her women. She is like a bright flower among leaves. She dreams that her beloved stays too long at council, and wearily she moves her fan. A breathing perfume dare kisses the face of the emperor. My beloved moves her fan and sends me a perfume from her lips. Once the pavilion of porcelain walks the emperor, shining with his jewels, and leaves his grave mandarins to look at each other in silence. Section XIV of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain, recording by Nima. Song from the Chinese 19th Century You would climb after nectarines in your little green jacket and puffy white drawers, so that you fell and I caught you. You made as if to break away, and then settled wriggling in my arms. While your lightness and softness were pressed against me, and your face looked up from my breast, puckered with amusement, it would be something of this sort if our clear blue night full of white stars turned to a night of colored stars. Red and purple and green to the zenith, and orange and light violet and lemon, and bright rose and crimson all about the sky. End of Song. Section XV of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain, recording by Nima. Love Song from Dagestan. The mountains of Bakhbama are great enough, but my love is greater. The glaciers that marble their tops are white, but your breasts are whiter. The antelopes stricken by my bullet weeps a red blood from its wound, which dies with large red flowers the field of the blowing jasmine flowers of snow. Your arms are whiter than the jasmine flowers of snow, and your kiss is redder than the blood of the antelope. The mountains of Bakhbama are great enough, but my love is greater. The wind screaming in the forest when the wind of Russia blows is milder than the desire that draws me to thee. Your body smells richer than the resin that weeps in the sun from slender primes, and your mouth has more of odors than mint flowers throw on the air. When you are by my side, I feel in my body a warmth more suave than the softest sun rays. And when you go away from me, my sadness is blacker than the lowering night great with storm. The wind screaming in the forest when the wind of Russia blows is milder than the desire that draws me to thee. End of Love Song Section 16 of Colored Stars Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima Fajat from the Hindustani of Shah Salim, 18th century I'd wish them to put for a talisman on my tomb a pink stone, to remind folk of the stone heart and the pink fairness of my murderous. End of Fajat Section 17 of Colored Stars Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima I am only a man, and yet sometimes the green skin of unripened limes, or the rose and gold of a naked heel, take hold of my heart and make it feel. And then I'm a god, the tints and blends, loves and laughs and comprehends, hunger and honor are my creed, and the splendor of a windy speed. And then I'm a wolf that glares and runs after the soft four-footed ones. Moonlight is shattered on my track, our human voices call me back. End of Loving Things. Section 18 of Colored Stars Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Being Together at Night from the Chinese 19th Century. By black water and dark blue water, making the wide tree balance its branches, between us and the moon, we stood close, as close among the leaves, small green diamonds of rain and the far stars. End of Being Together at Night. Section 19 of Colored Stars Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima. The Peach Flower from the Chinese of Tzit T. I have plucked from the branch of the peach, a flower quite little. A flower quite rose, and offered it to the loved girl whose lips are smaller and more rose than the little flower. I have taken a swallow with black wings from its nest, and offered it to the loved girl whose lips are little and rose and whose brows are like the black wings of the swallow. Last day the little rose flower was faded, and the swallow, following the soul of the flower, had taken flight by the window open onto the blue mountain. But on the lips of the loved girl, flowers blow always small in rose, and the black brows over her eyes have no air of wishing to beat their wings. End of The Peach Flower. 20. Of Colored Stars. Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima. Leela, a Song of Nepal. Oh, Leela, in your mouth are three things. A range of Bahrain pearls. A goblet of Shiraz wine. A musk of Tibet. The musk of Tibet is your breath. The Shiraz wine, the water of your mouth. The Bahrain pearls your teeth. Oh, Leela. Oh, Leela, in your eyes are three things. Black diamonds of Hindustan. Figured silks of Lahore. Flames of Fuziyama. The mountain flames are their brightness. The figured silks of Lahore are their dusk. The black diamonds of Hindustan their color. Oh, Leela. Oh, Leela, in your heart are three things. All the yellow cobras of Burma. All the deadly fungi of Bengal. All Nepal's poison flowers. The poison flowers are your vows. The deadly fungi your kisses. The yellow cobras your deceits. Oh, Leela. End of Leela. Section 21 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Looking at the moon from the Japanese of the courtesan of Nagasaki. Very far from your eyes, my loving eyes regard the sky of stars. Ah, that the moon might be changed to a mirror. End of looking at the moon. Section 22 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Song from the Sanskrit 5th Century. Do on the bamboos. Cooler than do on the bamboos. Is putting my cheek against your breast. The pit of green and black snakes. I would rather be in the pit of green and black snakes than be in love with you. End of Song. Section 23 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. A love rapture from the Chinese of Li Taipei. Round the palace of waters, gently the wind moves the flowers of the water lilies. On the highest terrace of Kowtzu, one sees the king of Lao lazily lying. And before him, si chi, after whom beauty was named, dances with lovely grace of delicate weak gestures. Then she laughs that she is so voluptuously wary and languidly leans to the east on the white jade of the royal bed. End of A Love Rapture. Section 24 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. English Girl from the Chinese 19th Century. I that lived ever about you never touched you, Lillian. You came from far away, and devils with twitching faces had all their will of you for gold. But I saw your little feet in your bedroom, your little heathen shoes I kept so bright, for they regarded not your feet, Lillian, but I regarded. Your little heathen stockings were mine to carry and to set out and to wash. They regarded not your feet, but I that lived ever about you never touched you, Lillian. Their faces twitch more this frosty morning. They have put you in a heathen box and hidden your feet and carried you out in the frosty morning. They have passed with you over the foggy brook and look like big blue men in the mist on the other side. Now only the mist and the water remain. They never regarded your feet, but I regarded Lillian. Their faces ever twitched. But for the seven years since I saw you, my face did not change. They never regarded your warm feet, but I regarded. End of English Girl. Section 25 of Colored Stars, Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain, recording by Anima. Gazal from the Hindustani of Incha, 18th century. Seeing me come, the heavenly girl fled very fast and ran, surpassing fast, her tongue between her teeth. I followed, and the heavenly girl at the noise of my following pulled back the leaf of the door and hid behind. I followed, and for her savagery fast, fast I scolded her. Till all ashamed and drawing back, she could not answer me. Why starts the morning cock his chant so fast, so fast? An evil cock, an evil chant to shatter my delight. And this song is only as threads of smoke to the heavenly girl. That vanished, surpassing fast, upon the winds of spring. End of Gazal. Section 26 of Colored Stars, Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain, recording by Anima. Lovers' Jealousy from the Afgan of Mirza Rashan Kayeo. Although you are as beautiful as Kashmir Dawn, I am not jealous. Oh, my wanton bird of the lover that you have chosen who takes my place tonight upon your bed. You can ask me to hear your feasting tonight. I carry the scent of your body about with me. If you fear not, I will bring things to eat and things to drink, since love makes the belly hungry and the throat dry. And I'll sing my finest ballads for which you used to pay, your mendicent of love, of diamonds of tears, pearls of laughter, and rubies of kisses. I carry the scent of your body about with me. I will serve up to you all panting, all hot, and all crisp, my heart, which your spurns have made into roast lamb. And for your thirst I will give you in a cup and place of milk all the blood of my veins that you wish empty of my love. I carry the scent of your body about with me. I'll sing to your handsome the words you love, the words that distilled in your ears make you all ripe to offer the cup of kisses. Words I made for you yesterday, the beggar at your door, which today you want to hear cried by other lips. I carry the scent of your body about with me. I will sing him a gazelle of the learned way, to loose your hair and unravel your heavy black tresses, heavy with perfumes and little coins, with flowers and pearl encrusted combs, heavy above all with the odor of your body. I carry the scent of your body about with me. Oh, the scent floating from your neck, your breast, your arms, that circles about your thighs and your little belly, the scent that is fed forever and forever from two shady flasks under your bright arms. I carry the scent of your body about with me. Oh, this hot scent that curdles my desire, odor of honey and centipede, of milk and rose water, and over all your little hot skin under great love, breathing of amber. I carry the scent of your body about with me. I will sing him the very slow way of plucking date sweet kisses from your lips, of plucking from your breast, all blowing flowers, carnations and roses, and from between your breast, all fruits, oranges, peaches, and strawberries. I carry the scent of your body about with me. And to place his head on your shoulder, oh, little bird, where, big and proud, your grain of beauty lies, like a black carnation in a desert of snow, like a black star in daylight, I carry the scent of your body about with me. My songs will teach him the things that make you mad, what twistings you love my serpent, the murmur him, what langurs break your feline limbs, and above all, how to be loved by thee. I carry the scent of your body about with me. I want to light in his heart the flame that burns in me, to see him suffer tomorrow when you leave him for me. All the torments that I have today, you can ask Rashaan to your feasting tonight. Rashaan will bring things to eat and things to drink. I carry the scent of your body about with me. End of Lovers' Jealousy. Section 27 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers-Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Spring cold from the Chinese of Lai Wai Hain. In the melancholy enclosure, the wind leans and drags at the threads of fine rain. It is a good thing the double doors are shut. The grace of the willows, the frailness of the flowers, these bow down before the capricious weather that rains towards the time of cold feasts. But whatever the weather, it is always difficult to find the balanced harmony of verse. In the meanwhile, this much poetry is finished. What sweet thing may sustain? What sweet thing may console him who works from drunkenness? The drunkenness of poetry, which is other than the drunkenness of wine? The wild swans have just passed. I have a thousand sad things which I would confide to these rapid riders. In these days, the spring cold can be felt in the upper story. On four sides, the blinds are down in front of the windows. I am too dissatisfied to go and lean on the jade balustrade. The coverlet is cold, all the perfume is burned away. I wake from my last dream. Why are not people with great sorrows forbidden to dream? The colorless dew is falling into the water. The trees are getting green again. Quite a lot of people will rejoice to see. The spring come back. The sun is coming out. The mist is drifting away. Today I suppose I will have to look at some more fine weather. End of spring cold. Section 28 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Amy Grimoire. Climbing up to you from the Arabic of John Duncan. I sang of a glass of crystal shadows lifted to mine. With shadows of rose lips upon the rim. I sang of love kissed asleep by other girls that after his rest would have as sweet a waking. I sang of my life smashed like a hawk's egg against the granite stairs. Now that I can climb, pardon me two things, that I gave not round the beauty of your feet, bright colored songs to moan for evermore. That now, climbing once or twice, being wary I shade my mouth and sing of my heart's blood sweetened to a red grape. For you to bite and swallow and have done. End of climbing up to you. Section 29 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Grief from the Persian of Skahed, 10th century. If grief like fire should give out smoke, ever it would be night on earth. End of grief. Section 30 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Song from the Turkish of Mahmud, Deje al-Adin Pacha, 19th century. If you love God, take your mirror between your hands and look how beautiful are your breasts with their two russet berries. At sight of them, stricken, drunken, I cannot make a distinction between them in white roses beaten in white snow. How beautiful are your breasts with their two russet berries. No soul could be strong against your so bright eyes. My desire hungers for the kisses of one night did not fill it. How beautiful are your breasts with their two russet berries. End of song. Section 31 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Section 30 of Colored Stars. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Last time, from the Japanese of Izzumi Sikibu, 10th century. One more time, before I quit the world. I want to see you. To carry with me down there, your face of love. Oh, my love. End of last time. Section 32 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. Section 32 of Colored Stars. Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Mokcha. Supreme Happiness. From the Burmese of Megdan, 19th century. Like the bright drop which, from the perfumed womanhood of loving night, night amorous ever, tireless in her couplings with a body of the world, falls in the virgin breast of a rose, and straightway ravishes her and shows in its tiny globe all the work of Brahma, all the sky and all the earth. So the drop of the dew of thy love, which trembles on the petals of my heart, reflects in my love the sky of the soul, so sought Nirvana. My love is Mokcha, making me, from on earth, taste the high savor of immaterial joy. Through thy love I have felt that my essence is Godlike, and that I am part of the world's creator. End of Mokcha. Section 33 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Ghazal from the Hindustani of Ish, 18th century. When you have thrown torture and desire, oh cruel child, into your lover's heart with listened coquetturies, you sit down calm and unmoved and never noticing, and put desirous order into the loosened tangles of your hair, and I, watching you think of a placid pilgrim that has come to camp and sits taking his ease, who have never thought for his fellows on the road, and I, watching you think of the unconscious earth carelessly drinking the tears from wounded hearts. End of Ghazal. Section 34 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Vi, Choju Clarem, Kurdistan. Ah, my children, do you know Jamila, the turquoise, the carnation, the most beautiful girl in Baghdad? Ah, my children, ah, my children, her face has aspects of the moon, and in each of her eyes there is a sun. Ah, my children, ah, my children, sometimes she leaves her vest unfastened, forgetting, who knows, that it hides her breast. Ah, my children, ah, my children, she is round rosy paps standing straight out like peaches not yet ripe. Ah, my children, ah, my children, look at the curve of her back. She might crack nuts below her waist there. Ah, my children, ah, my children, what shall be said of her thighs? What's so good to dream of as her thighs? Ah, my children, ah, my children, Jamila has just passed, appetizing in guilt like a cake for Ramazan. Ah, my children, ah, my children, she comes down from the mountains, with her arms full of flowers, those little flowers that never die. Ah, my children, ah, my children, the wind makes cling to her skin, her rose robe, and makes her look quite naked. Ah, my children, ah, my children, Jamila comes to us to sell the little flowers that never die, plucked in the mountain. Ah, my children, ah, my children, when she sells her flowers, the bright eyes of the lads bathe her and devour her. Ah, my children, ah, my children, eyes that pass through her robe and do not count the money she gives back. Ah, my children, ah, my children, feeling hands that tickle her and she lasts with all her teeth pulling back her veil. Ah, my children, ah, my children, Jamila has sold the flowers from the mountain and added to her dowry for marrying the hill-boy she loves. Ah, my children, end of Thy Cho Juclarum. Section 35 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powers Mathers. The Mirror. Street Song of Eastern Mongolia. I have saddled your raven horse with nervous limbs. I have polished your sword, your rifle, and your lance. Go, soldier, since you must. Go, my eyes, joy. But in your fights do not forget I love you. As in the tiny mirror which you brought me from Kiech Affair, promise that my face will be mirrored in your thought. Before you go, make this promise to watch every evening at the third hour, the moon flashing in the sky, like a great mirror of silver. Thus every night I'll seem to see your eyes. Thus every night you'll seem to see my eyes, as in a silver mirror, in the moon flashing in the sky. Who knows but that perhaps the moon, moved to see our eyes hunting each other every night. May consent really to change into a great mirror of silver? Then I could watch you every night, fighting on your raven horse, and you could tell yourself every night that I was keeping my promise. Then I could watch you every night, fighting on your raven horse, and you could tell yourself every night that I was keeping my promise. Section 36 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Faryat from the Hindustani of Sugweeb, 18th Century The heartless girl, that was the cause of Sugweeb's death, saw his beer passing, and dared to ask of its sorrowful convoy the name of the man they were carrying to earth. End of Faryat Section 37 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. At the east gate, from the Chinese Sheiking, 1776 B.C. At the east gate of the city are young women, gracious and light as clouds in springtime. But it does not move me that they have the lightness of clouds. Under her thick veil on the whiteness of her robe, my love gives me all joy. At the west gate of the city are young women, sparkling and beautiful like the flowers of springtime. But it does not move me that they have the sparkling beauty of flowers. Under her thick veil on the whiteness of her robe, my love gives me all joy. End of At the East Gate Section 38 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Submission from the Siamese When you have bathed in the river on the moon's third day, you make yourself ah so the more to be desired by slipping on a robe the color of your body. In the morning child are three baskets of saffron enough to color your breast and your arms and your face. No other girl knows like you how to entice me, walking alone in the shadows of the palm trees. None has your tickling gestures, your inflaming eyes, so young, so smooth and so flower fresh. You must have more men silly about you than there are corners in your bedroom to hide them. In the morning when I come to see you under the veranda just for the pleasure of talking to you, or in the evening when I curry favor with a polter-air just for the pleasure of feeling myself near you, or at night when my hand seeks to clasp you through the hole pierced in the planking by your bed. Your mother can say all she likes, or approaches, insults, swear words. I accept all in advance. But I conjure you, do not refuse me, a quiet small corner of your bedroom in which to hide. End of Submission In the Palace from the Chinese of Thou Sin Yu What rigorous calm, but almost holy silence, all the doors are shut, and the beds of flowers are giving out scent, discreetly of course. Two women that lean against each other stand to the balustrade of red marble on the edge of the terrace. One of them wishes to speak, to confide to her friend the secret sorrow that is agonizing her heart. She throws an anxious glance at the motionless leaves, and because of a para-catch with iridescent wings that perches on a branch, she sighs and is silent. End of In the Palace Section 40 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima A thing remembered from the Arabic. I'll not forget the warm blue night when my bold girl, whose kissing lips smell sweet of honey in a rose water, came softly to my room and my room glowed as if the moon, at her bright full, had entered to me. She asked me in your arms, she said, all that your love demands ask and obtain. My old watching woman is far away. I pressed her in my arms and said, your robe is a curtain. Wherefore a curtain between me and thee, violet joy of my heart? And so saying, I began to undo some parts of her robe. She looked smiling at me, and I, also smiling, unloosed and unloosed. My joy, the flower in her bud, pleases me not, and fruit, hanging under leaves, delights me not. My sword, I love not in its sheath. It is no pleasure to see the stars of night hidden behind clouds. End of A Thing Remembered Section 41 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers The most virtuous woman, popular song of Manchuria. Pluck the most beautiful apricot from this tree and place it on silk in a coffer of sandalwood. At the end of three days, the silk will be stained by the juice of the fruit. Choose the most virtuous woman from this world. Place her image in the coffer of your heart. Even on the same instant your heart will be soiled with bad thoughts. End of The Most Virtuous Woman Section 42 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima The meeting from the Arabic of Ibn al-Farid, 1220 AD A summer's night I met my girl on the path that lead straight to her dwelling and straight to my tent. We were alone, we two, without watchers or informers, far from the tribe, far from jealous eyes and spying ears and harming tongues. I laid my face on the ground, my brow of footstool for my girl. She said, Open your heart with joy. We are without watchers. Come, pressure lips to my veil. But my lips would not consent to it. I felt that I had two honors to guard, my girls and mine. And, as was my desire, we were all night together, near to each other, far from the tribe and spying eyes. And it seemed that I was master of all the kingdoms of the world and that the elements obeyed me as slaves. End of The Meeting Section 43 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima The drunken rose from the Sanskrit of Amarur for a century Has not the night been as a drunken rose without a witness? And the girl of bloom has given a ball? What little cries of joy, what wanton words repeated? But white dawn shows the rose and green pet bird, the mighty talker and awake all night. Hark! the old woman comes. He will tell all. What shall she, fluttering? Snap small rubies off from the bright earrings, facets sharp as steel. These, with a seed pulp of the passion fruit, his sweet prepared breakfast, mingle fiatly. So is he jargoner, silent forevermore. End of The Drunken Rose Section 44 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima The Trist by an Unknown Author of Kambosha In thy presence my arms, my hands, my lips, all my being tremble as tremble the leaves of the cinnamon apples shaken by the wind. The leaves of the cinnamon apple do not tremble of my love. They shiver under the caress of the wind, which drinks deep their perfumed kisses. Come with me tonight under the cinnamon apples, and like their leaves you will shiver under my caress. And like the wind I will drink deep of your perfumed kisses. I will come, but what will you give me for my kisses? For your kisses I offer you my kisses. What will you give me for my heart? For your heart I offer you my heart. What will you give me for my love? For your love I offer you my life. I accept your kisses and your heart and your life, and I give an exchange myself to be all yours. And all trembling this night I will come to offer you my kisses under the cinnamon apples caressed by the wind, and in the wind the drinks deep of their perfumed kisses. End of The Trist Section 45 Of Colored Stars Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems By Edward Powis Mathers This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima Zulma Street Song of Balukistan I seemed to see behind a half-open door two roses on a rose-tree I was mistaken. It was not really two roses, but the curved cheeks of Zulma. I seemed to see behind a half-open door two white lily-flowers. I was mistaken. It was not really two white lily-flowers, but the curved breast of Zulma. I seemed to see behind a half-open door two red blossoms of the passion-flower. I was mistaken. It was not really two red blossoms of the passion-flower, but the curved lips of Zulma. Woman or flowers, what matter? Tell the girl that my gardens are great and great my woman's quarters. There grow the red and the rose and the white flowers and the light woman and the dark woman with skins of amber and ivory and that I wish to pluck the rose-flowers of her cheeks and the red flowers of her lips and the white flowers of her breast. End of Zulma Section 46 of Colored Stars Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of Vox Recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima. Rubayat from the Persian of Omar Qayyam, 10th Century. They've assured me that paradise is full of girls. They've assured me that I'll find wine and honey in paradise. While then, why forbid me wine and girls down here, seeing that up there my reward will be girls and wine? End of Rubayat Section 47 of Colored Stars Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of Vox Recording is in the public domain. Picture from the Japanese 18th Century. I see the snowy winter sky through the old arch and in the middle the line of one tree. A flight of crows comes just above the tree sweeping to left and right and tailing out behind. I think of you. End of Picture. Section 48 of Colored Stars Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of Vox Recording is in the public domain. Recording by Anima. White from the Japanese of Yorikito, 19th Century. I thought that it was snowing flowers, but now it was this young lady coming towards me. End of White. Section 49 of Colored Stars Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of Vox Recording is in the public domain. Song from the Sanskrit 5th Century. I came upon you rolling in the grass. Like a young beast you rolled over and over flinging your legs wide, flinging your arms wide and rubbing against the dew. I came upon you rolling in the grass and crept away. End of Song. Section 50 of Colored Stars Versions of 50 Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of Vox Recording is in the public domain. The Red Lotus from the Chinese of Lai Wai Hain. A flower opens down under the deep water, the deep water. I take a cord and throw it towards the flower, whose roots are so far down. Whose roots are so far down. The mystery of the deep darkness is troubled. The repose ceases, the ripple spreads very far. With my cord I try to snare the lotus, as if his heart were deep there in the water. The sun floats on the extreme edge of the sky. He goes down, he goes out. He falls into the night and drowns. He falls into the night and drowns. I climb up again to the higher story. I stop, in front of my mirror, a tragic and wasted face. A tragic and wasted face. The plants are setting about to become green again and to put out new shoots. How have I managed without hope to reach this day? End of The Red Lotus. The night before last night I heard that to make songs to girls and to make prayers to God were of equal value in the eye of time, provided, that is, that the prayers are sufficiently beautiful. End of Envoy. Section 52 of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Powis Mathers. This leap of ox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Nima. Four Notes. Black Hair, page 13. For many of the forty years of his life, which closed in madness in 1890, Muhammadji, the greatest poet of Afghanistan, was working out sentences in prison for violent brawling and heavy drinking. In the last tens of this poem, the folly of grandeurs is easily detected. And, in all his work, mingled with that drowsy music, which was his greatness, is a vertigo from over the depths of insanity. English Girl, page 34. This poem, which could only have been thought in a Chinese brain, is yet to inform very wide of modern Chinese tradition. Its author, who also wrote Song, page 26, and Being Together at Night, page 29, is an American-born Chinese, a valet by profession and by instinct, an artist both in words and colors. Lovers' Jealousy, page 36. Merza Prince, Rakan Kayil, was the pen name of Hussein Isatrafi, a popular contemporary of Muhammadji. Being a fine linguist and tireless traveler, he explored the wildest parts of Asia and the most ordinary capitals of Europe, searching out inspiration for mystical work which should reconcile all religions. At the age of forty-eight, he was hanged for a supposed complicity in a plot against the Shah of Persia. Climbing up to you, page 41. John Duncan died in his middle age this year and left only the short-lived memory of a brilliant talker in a few strange poems in the language of his adoption. How far he had identified his being with the Arabs, among whom he lived and had married, may be gathered from his serious use of the expression, a tourist pure and simple, when speaking of the late Sir Richard Burton. This poem is the only one of his which seemed to be generally comprehensible without those verbal annotations which it was his custom sometimes to supply when reading. End of Four Notes End of Colored Stars, Versions of Fifty Asiatic Love Poems by Edward Pauie's Mathers