Monday, April 14, 2014

Yasmin by James Elroy Flecker


How splendid in the morning glows the lily: with what 
grace he throws
His supplication to the rose: do roses nod the head, Yasmin?

But when the silver dove descends I find the little flower of 
Whose very name that sweetly ends I say when I have said, 

The morning light is clear and cold: I dare not in that 
light behold
A whiter light, a deeper gold, a glory too far shed, Yasmin.

But when the deep red eye of day is level with the lone 
And some to Meccah turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, 

Or when the wind beneath the moon in drifting like a soul 
And harping planets talk love's tune with milky wings 
outspread, Yasmin,

Shower down thy love, O burning bright! For one night or 
the other night,
Will come the Gardener in white, and gathered flowers are 
dead, Yasmin.

-- a ghazel by James Elroy Flecker 

The poem as it was set in the Collected Poems of James Elroy Flecker.