Djufar's Song
By poet rapture more."—The next went home
In anger from the fountain, but the third
Beckoned to the musicians not to go.
Then where the scroll lay wet with tears she bent,
She raised it up, and, followed by the folk
To merry string- and drum-notes forth she went.
She bore it to the city's tranquil shrine,
Where in an aisle the scroll was kept, and long
Did Tanta's daughters come to kiss it there,
Thinking the while of Djufar's silent song.
In anger from the fountain, but the third
Beckoned to the musicians not to go.
Then where the scroll lay wet with tears she bent,
She raised it up, and, followed by the folk
To merry string- and drum-notes forth she went.
She bore it to the city's tranquil shrine,
Where in an aisle the scroll was kept, and long
Did Tanta's daughters come to kiss it there,
Thinking the while of Djufar's silent song.
The eye-joy that the Orient affords.
No man with rows of signs can teach the soul;
But ancient Djufar paints the ecstasy
Most truly on his tear-stained, empty scroll.
No man with rows of signs can teach the soul;
But ancient Djufar paints the ecstasy
Most truly on his tear-stained, empty scroll.
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