Imitations of Old Arabic Poetry (II)

Poem in Noon

(metre:  Tawîl)

Allow me   to halt awhile,                          and weep  here,   before the scene

of landscapes   I knew before,               the hill-sides’    remembered green.

Draw úp now,  before the trace,            beside me,   companions twain:

for long may   the seasons last,              ere we might    return again.

Behold there, beyond the trees            the out-line  can still be seen:

the place where  my love and I,             so young then,  were most alone.

The words we   spoke foolishly            are locked now   in silent stone.

The true vows   we failed to make,            reunions   that might have been

arise like  the djinn’s mirage             that night-haunts   beside al-`Ayn.

Alas! she, with all her tribe                        the land left, in caravan,

while I --

            [here the manuscript breaks off, washed-out by tears]


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