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 Love's partingBy Manoochehri (died 1041) Translated by Edward Granville Browne February 20, 2002 The Iranian O tentsman, haste, and strike the tent, I pray! The caravan's already under way; The drummer sounds already the first drum; Their loads the drivers on the camels lay. The evening-prayer is nigh, and lo! tonight The sun and moon opposed do stand at bay, Save that the moon climbs upwards through the sky, While sinks the sun o'er Babel's mountains gray, Like two scales of golden balance, when One pan doth upwards and one downwards weigh. "O silver cypress! Little did I think To see so swiftly pass our trysting-day. We are all heedless, but the moon and sun Are heedful things, whose purposes ne'er stray. My darling, wend thee hence, and weep no more, For fruitless are the hopes of lovers aye. with parting Time is pregnant; know ye not Needs must the pregnant bring to birth one day?" When thus my love beheld my state, her eyes Rained tears like drops which fall when lightnings play. That she crushed pepper held within her hand And cast it in her eyes thou wouldest say. Drooping and trembling unto me she came Like throat-cut bird, whose life-blood ebbs away, Around my neck like sword-belt flung her arms, And on my breast like belt depending lay. "O cruel," cried she; "by my soul I swear My envious foes rejoice through thee this day! Wilt thou, what time the caravan returns Return therewith, or still in exile stay? Perfect I deemed thee once in all thy deeds, But now in love imperfect, well-a-way!" Thanks to John Mohammadi for searching and forwarding the contents of this page.
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