Dialogue by Rais
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Arabian Poetry, by W. A. Clouston, [1881], at sacred-texts.com
p. 119
It was Rais’ turn next, who charmed us with this plaintive little dialogue, supposed to pass betwixt himself and a Lady:
DIALOGUE BY RAIS.
RAIS.
MAID of sorrow, tell us why
Sad and drooping hangs thy head?
Is it grief that bids thee sigh?
Is it sleep that flies thy bed?
Sad and drooping hangs thy head?
Is it grief that bids thee sigh?
Is it sleep that flies thy bed?
LADY.
AH! I mourn no fancied wound;
Pangs too true this heart have wrung,
Since the snakes which curl around
Selim's brows my bosom stung.
Pangs too true this heart have wrung,
Since the snakes which curl around
Selim's brows my bosom stung.
Destined now to keener woes,
I must see the youth depart;
He must go, and, as he goes,
Rend at once my bursting heart.
Slumber may desert my bed;
’Tis not slumber's charms I seek:
’Tis the robe of beauty spread
O’er my Selim's rosy cheek.
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