My translations of two poems I’d been working progressively to complete; finished these full poems from her first book Fleurs de Rêve.
TO MISS C.
Your eyes are so beautiful, my dear beauty,
That their gaze is torturous;
I love your name and I spell it
Your murmuring flood of a name.
I am dark and you are blonde,
This contrast is delicious,
A little from the depths of the wave
mingles with the azure skies.
For I am night, you are day,
a pink and blue day that glitters;
I, the lake; you, the shining star;
you, the dream and I… I am love.
—May Ziadeh (1911)
SERENADE OF THE MAD
by May Ziadeh
On the air of the Spanish Serenade:
“It’s late, your door is closed.”
Wake up, you sleeping beauty,
Listen to my evening song;
Moon ray, O my sweet friend,
Show yourself; no one can see you.
Under your window, my oud,
Sighing with sad chords,
Nostalgic and rare.
And my heart shudders with transport!
Yes there, in the shadows and silence,
Listen to a sad, sweet song
You don’t want me here?
Heaven! Why this sudden wrath?
Oh! by your thick blond locks
Your pupils which kill
(My sweet!) where worlds sparkle
Love! By your eyes, my pleasure!
By your lips, I beseech you!,
Your lips full of pleasure
And by your sound and pure voice,
Answer: Did I not sing well?
Then why this anger
What about the disappearance?
Would you be spoiled, my dear,
Or is it just a thrill?
Mimi, come back to your window
And stand under the white curtains;
By your grace, deign to appear
And inspire me with your sweet accents!
The shadow is so dark and you listen to me,
Blonde woman, but what! Would you love me?
Steal from my breast these doubts:
Belle, speak! I’ve been quiet.
More melancholy than ever,
Oud, play your song again,
In this dark and tragic shadow
That fills this vast horizon.
Suffer, moan, cry, oud!
This beauty will not love you
And your chorus, sweet and rare,
Will never charm her…
—May Ziadeh (1911)
These are some poems and photos to fall within a very beautiful, peaceful dream and I’m ready.
Earlier today: Stars, After A Long Time, Before Midnight