the golden threshold-第4部分
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Your birds of peace white…pinioned float
O'er ruined fort and storied plain；
Your faithful stewards sleepless guard
The harvests of your gold and grain。
God give you joy； God give you grace
To shield the truth and smite the wrong；
To honour Virtue； Valour； Worth。
To cherish faith and foster song。
So may the lustre of your days
Outshine the deeds Firdusi sung；
Your name within a nation's prayer；
Your music on a nation's tongue。
LEILI
The serpents are asleep among the poppies；
The fireflies light the soundless panther's way
To tangled paths where shy gazelles are straying；
And parrot…plumes outshine the dying day。
O soft！ the lotus…buds upon the stream
Are stirring like sweet maidens when they dream。
A caste…mark on the azure brows of Heaven；
The golden moon burns sacred； solemn； bright
The winds are dancing in the forest…temple；
And swooning at the holy feet of Night。
Hush！ in the silence mystic voices sing
And make the gods their incense…offering。
IN THE FOREST
Here； O my heart； let us burn the dear dreams that are dead；
Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre
Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red；
Here let us burn them in noon's flaming torches of fire。
We are weary； my heart； we are weary； so long we have borne
The heavy loved burden of dreams that are dead； let us rest；
Let us scatter their ashes away； for a while let us mourn；
We will rest； O my heart； till the shadows are gray in the west。
But soon we must rise； O my heart； we must wander again
Into the war of the world and the strife of the throng；
Let us rise； O my heart； let us gather the dreams that remain；
We will conquer the sorrow of life with the sorrow of song。
PAST AND FUTURE
THE NEW HATH COME AND NOW THE OLD RETIRES：
And so the past becomes a mountain…cell；
Where lone； apart； old hermit…memories dwell
In consecrated calm； forgotten yet
Of the keen heart that hastens to forget
Old longings in fulfilling new desires。
And now the Soul stands in a vague； intense
Expectancy and anguish of suspense；
On the dim chamber…threshold 。 。 。 lo！ he sees
Like a strange； fated bride as yet unknown；
His timid future shrinking there alone；
Beneath her marriage…veil of mysteries。
LIFE
Children； ye have not lived； to you it seems
Life is a lovely stalactite of dreams；
Or carnival of careless joys that leap
About your hearts like billows on the deep
In flames of amber and of amethyst。
Children； ye have not lived； ye but exist
Till some resistless hour shall rise and move
Your hearts to wake and hunger after love；
And thirst with passionate longing for the things
That burn your brows with blood…red sufferings。
Till ye have battled with great grief and fears；
And borne the conflict of dream…shattering years；
Wounded with fierce desire and worn with strife；
Children； ye have not lived： for this is life。
THE POET'S LOVE…SONG
In noon…tide hours； O Love； secure and strong；
I need thee not； mad dreams are mine to bind
The world to my desire； and hold the wind
A voiceless captive to my conquering song。
I need thee not； I am content with these：
Keep silence in thy soul； beyond the seas！
But in the desolate hour of midnight； when
An ecstasy of starry silence sleeps
On the still mountains and the soundless deeps；
And my soul hungers for thy voice； O then；
Love； like the magic of wild melodies；
Let thy soul answer mine across the seas。
TO THE GOD OF PAIN
Unwilling priestess in thy cruel fane；
Long hast thou held me； pitiless god of Pain；
Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows；
My tired breast girt with suffering； and my brows
Anointed with perpetual weariness。
Long have I borne thy service； through the stress
Of rigorous years； sad days and slumberless nights；
Performing thine inexorable rites。
For thy dark altars； balm nor milk nor rice；
But mine own soul thou'st ta'en for sacrifice：
All the rich honey of my youth's desire；
And all the sweet oils from my crushed life drawn；
And all my flower…like dreams and gem…like fire
Of hopes up…leaping like the light of dawn。
I have no more to give； all that was mine
Is laid； a wrested tribute； at thy shrine；
Let me depart； for my whole soul is wrung；
And all my cheerless orisons are sung；
Let me depart； with faint limbs let me creep
To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep。
THE SONG OF PRINCESS ZEB…UN…NISSA
IN PRAISE OF HER OWN BEAUTY
（From the Persian）
When from my cheek I lift my veil；
The roses turn with envy pale；
And from their pierced hearts； rich with pain；
Send forth their fragrance like a wail。
Or if perchance one perfumed tress
Be lowered to the wind's caress；
The honeyed hyacinths complain；
And languish in a sweet distress。
And； when I pause； still groves among；
（Such loveliness is mine） a throng
Of nightingales awake and strain
Their souls into a quivering song。
INDIAN DANCERS
Eyes ravished with rapture； celestially panting；
what passionate bosoms aflaming with
fire
Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth
heavens that glimmer around them in
fountains of light；
O wild and entrancing the strain of keen music
that cleaveth the stars like a wail of
desire；
And beautiful dancers with houri…like faces
bewitch the voluptuous watches of
night。
The scents of red roses and sandalwood flutter
and die in the maze of their gem…tangled
hair；
And smiles are entwining like magical ser…
pents the poppies of lips that are opiate…
sweet；
Their glittering garments of purple are burn…
ing like tremulous dawns in the quiver…
ing air；
And exquisite； subtle and slow are the tinkle
and tread of their rhythmical； slumber…
soft feet。
Now silent； now singing and swaying and swing…
ing； like blossoms that bend to the
breezes or showers；
Now wantonly winding； they flash； now they
falter； and； lingering； languish in radiant
choir；
Their jewel…girt arms and warm； wavering； lily…
long fingers enchant through melodious
hours；
Eyes ravished with rapture； celestially pant…
ing； what passionate bosoms aflaming
with fire！
MY DEAD DREAM
Have you found me； at last； O my Dream？
Seven aeons ago
You died and I buried you deep under forests
of snow。
Why have you come hither？ Who bade you
awake from your sleep
And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the
deep？
Would you tear from my lintels these sacred
green garlands of leaves？
Would you scare the white； nested； wild
pigeons of joy from my eaves？
Would you touch and defile with dead fingers
the robes of my priest？
Would you weave your dim moan with the
chantings of love at my feast？
Go back to your grave； O my Dream； under
forests of snow；
Where a heart…riven child hid you once； seven
aeons ago。
Who bade you arise from your darkness？ I
bid you depart！
Profane not the shrines I have raised in the
clefts of my heart。
DAMAYANTE TO NALA IN THE HOUR OF EXILE
（A fragment）
Shalt thou be conquered of a human fate
My liege； my lover； whose imperial head
Hath never bent in sorrow of defeat？
Shalt thou be vanquished； whose imperial feet
Have shattered armies and stamped empires dead？
Who shall unking thee； husband of a queen？
Wear thou thy majesty inviolate。
Earth's glories flee of human eyes unseen；
Earth's kingdoms fade to a remembered dream；
But thine henceforth shall be a power supreme；
Dazzling command and rich dominion；
The winds thy heralds and thy vassals all
The silver…belted planets and the sun。
Where'er the radiance of thy coming fall；
Shall dawn for thee her saffron footcloths spread；
Sunset her purple canopies and red；
In serried splendour； and the night unfold
Her velvet darkness wrought with starry gold
For kingly raiment； soft as cygnet…down。
My hair shall braid thy temples like a crown
Of sapphires； and my kiss upon thy brows
Like cithar…music lull thee to repose；
Till the sun yield thee homage of his light。
O king； thy kingdom who from thee can wrest？
What fate shall dare uncrown thee from this breast；
O god…born lover； whom my love doth gird
And armour with impregnable delight
Of Hope's triumphant keen flame…carven sword？
THE QUEEN'S RIVAL
QUEEN Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed；
Around her countless treasures were spread；
Her chamber walls were richly inlaid
With agate； porphory； onyx and jade；
The tissues that veiled her delicate breast；
Glowed with the hues of a lapwing's crest；
But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed
〃O King； my heart is unsatisfied。〃
King Feroz bent from his ebony seat：
〃Is thy least desire unfulfilled； O Sweet？
〃Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent
To clear the sky of thy discontent。〃
〃I tire of my beauty； I tire of this
Empty splendour and shadowless bliss；
〃With none to envy and none gainsay；
No savour or salt hath my dream or day。〃
Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose：
〃Give me a rival； O King Feroz。〃
II
King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier：
〃Lo！ ere to…morrow's dawn be here；
〃Send forth my messengers over the sea；
To seek seven beautiful brides for me；
〃Radiant of feature and regal of mien；
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen。〃
。 。 。 。 。
Seven new moon tides at the Vesper call；
King Feroz led to Queen Gulnaar's hall
A young queen eyed like the morning star：
〃I bring thee a rival； O Queen Gulnaar。〃
But
