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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511053" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Naulahka</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a strife 'twixt man and maid-- <br>Oh, that was at the birth of time! <br>But what befell 'twixt man and maid, <br>Oh, that's beyond the grip of rhyme. <br>'Twas &quot;Sweet, I must not bide with you,&quot; <br>And, &quot;Love, I cannot bide alone&quot;; <br>For both were young and both were true. <br>And both were hard as the nether stone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beware the man who's crossed in love; <br> For pent-up steam must find its vent. <br>Stand back when he is on the move, <br> And lend him all the Continent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your patience, Sirs. The Devil took me up <br>To the burned mountain over Sicily <br>(Fit place for me) and thence I saw my Earth-- <br>(Not all Earth's splendour, 'twas beyond my need--) <br>And that one spot I love--all Earth to me, <br>And her I love, my Heaven. What said I? <br>My love was safe from all the powers of Hell- <br>For you--e'en you--acquit her of my guilt-- <br>But Sula, nestling by our sail--specked sea, <br>My city, child of mine, my heart, my home-- <br>Mine and my pride--evil might visit there! <br>It was for Sula and her naked port, <br>Prey to the galleys of the Algerine, <br>Our city Sula, that I drove my price-- <br>For love of Sula and for love of her. <br>The twain were woven--gold on sackcloth--twined <br>Past any sundering till God shall judge <br>The evil and the good. <br>Now it is not good for the Christian's health to hustle the Aryan <br> brown, <br>For the Christian riles, and the Aryan smiles and he weareth the <br> Christian down; <br>And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of <br> the late deceased, <br>And the epitaph drear: &quot;A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the <br> East.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is pleasure in the wet, wet clay <br>When the artist's hand is potting it. <br>There is pleasure in the wet, wet lay -- <br>When the poet's pad is blotting it. <br>There is pleasure in the shine of your picture on the line <br>At the Royal Acade-my; <br>But the pleasure felt in these is as chalk to Cheddar cheese <br>When it comes to a well-made Lie-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To a quite unwreckable Lie, <br>To a most impeccable Lie! <br>To a water-right, fire-proof, angle-iron, sunk-hinge, time-lock, <br> steel-faced Lie! <br>Not a private handsome Lie, <br>But a pair-and-brougham Lie, <br>Not a little-place-at-Tooting, but a country-house-with-shooting <br>And a ring-fence-deer-park Lie. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> When a lover hies abroad <br> Looking for his love, <br> Azrael smiling sheathes his sword, <br> Heaven smiles above. <br> Earth and sea <br> His servants be, <br> And to lesser compass round, <br> That his love be sooner found! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> We meet in an evil land <br> That is near to the gates of Hell. <br> I wait for thy command <br> To serve, to speed or withstand. <br> And thou sayest I do not well? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Oh Love, the flowers so red <br> Are only tongues of flame, <br> The earth is full of the dead, <br> The new-killed, restless dead. <br> There is danger beneath and o'erhead, <br> And I guard thy gates in fear <br> Of words thou canst not hear, <br> Of peril and jeopardy, <br> Of signs thou canst not see-- <br>. And thou sayest 'tis ill that I came? </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> This I saw when the rites were done, <br> And the lamps were dead and the Gods alone, <br> And the grey snake coiled on the altar stone-- <br> Ere I fled from a Fear that I could not see, <br> And the Gods of the East made mouths at me. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Beat off in our last fight were we? <br> The greater need to seek the sea. <br> For Fortune changeth as the moon <br> To caravel and picaroon. <br> Then Eastward Ho! or Westward Ho! <br> Whichever wind may meetest blow. <br> Our quarry sails on either sea, <br> Fat prey for such bold lads as we, <br> And every sun-dried buccaneer <br> Must hand and reef and watch and steer, <br> And bear great wrath of sea and sky <br> Before the plate-ships wallow by. <br> Now, as our tall bows take the foam, <br> Let no man turn his heart to home, <br> Save to desire plunder more <br> And larger warehouse for his store, <br> When treasure won from Santos Bay <br> Shall make our sea-washed village gay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Because I sought it far from men, <br> In deserts and alone, <br> I found it burning overhead, <br> The jewel of a Throne. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Because I sought--I sought it so <br> And spent my days to find-- <br> It blazed one moment ere it left <br> The blacker night behind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> We be the Gods of the East-- <br> Older than all-- <br> Masters of Mourning and Feast-- <br> How shall we fall? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will they gape for the husks that ye proffer <br> Or yearn to your song <br>And we--have we nothing to offer <br> Who ruled them so long-- <br>In the fume of incense, the clash of the cymbals, the blare of <br> the conch and the gong? <br>Over the strife of the schools <br> Low the day burns-- <br>Back with the kine from the pools <br> Each one returns <br>To the life that he knows where the altar-flame glows and the <br> tulsi is trimmed in the urns.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rudyard+Kipling">Rudyard Kipling</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=511053" data-title="The Naulahka de Rudyard Kipling" data-description="There was a strife 'twixt man and maid-- 
Oh, that was at the birth of time! 
But what befell 'twixt man and maid, 
Oh, that's beyond the grip of rhyme. 
'Twas &quot;Sweet, I must not bide with you,&quot; 
And, &quot;Love, I cannot bide alone&quot..."></div>
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