AN ODE TO SPRING.
From whence hath the spring again returned unto us,
Which hath made the country round a garden of flowers?
There are the anemone and sweet basil, the lily and thyme;
The jasmine and white rose, the narcissus and pomegranate blossom.
The wild flowers of spring are manifold, and of every hue;
But the dark-red tulip, above them all, predominateth.
The maidens place nosegays of flowers in their bosoms;
The youths, too, fasten bouquets of them in their turbans.
Come now, musician! apply the bow to thy violin:
Bring out the tone and the melody of every string!
And thou, cupbearer! bring us full and overflowing cups,
That I may become fraught with wine’s inebriety!
The Afghan youths have again dyed red their hands,
Like as the falcon dyeth his talons in the blood of the quarry.
They have made rosy their bright swords with gore:
The tulip-bed hath blossomed, even in the heat of summer.
Ae-mal Khan and Dar-ya Khan-from death preserve them!
Were neither of them, at fault, when opportunity occurred.
They dyed red the valley of Khaibar, with the blood of the foe:
On Karrapah,
(Khoshal Khan Khattak)
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Based on Topics: Flowers Poems, Spring Poems, Summer Poems, Garden Poems, Countries Poems, Musicians PoemsBased on Keywords: turbans, afghan, nosegays, dark-red, cupbearer, inebriety, dyeth, tulip-bed, ae-mal, khaibar, dar-ya