Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540388" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ayin Nedivah ('Generous Eye'): Qasida for Solomon Ibn Ghiyyat</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I can’t stop crying.<br>My eyes are like peddler women.<br>What they buy is: you are gone.<br>What they sell is: tears,<br>And business is good:<br>Enough tears for a jeweled necklace.<br> <br>I am weeping here in the ruins<br>Where lovers used to live.<br>I can’t hear a thing.<br>I can’t say a word.<br>Wasn’t it enough for you<br>To break our home when you left?<br>Why did you break my heart?<br> <br>The place doesn’t even look the same.<br>I don’t even recognize it.<br>Only my heart tells me if I am in the right place;<br>My eyes deny it.<br> <br>Good luck on your journey.<br>You take with you the tears that I gave you<br>And my sleep that you stole.<br> <br>I could forget my lover<br>Were it not for the stars<br>Which remind me.<br> <br>The moon is conspiring against the sun, her king.<br>She thinks he has gone traveling in the Western Sea<br>And drowned.<br>Unsheathing her swords of lightning<br>She strikes the earth’s back with her staffs of fire.<br>The lightning bolts dance,<br>Swirl their golden skirts and sway.<br>The earth joins battle in its armor of darkness;<br>The stars hurl their javelins of light.<br>The moon flees and grows dim,<br>But now she stands on the face of the sky<br>Like a golden brooch on a cloak,<br>Her face red with the dust of battle<br>Like the face of a queen leading her armies.<br> <br>I am a shepherd. My flock is the stars;<br>I herd them, leading them home.<br>They move as slowly as if they were sick or lame.<br> <br>I weep for the Twins, who are always apart.<br>I am jealous of the Pleiades, who are together for eternity.<br>Does Orion reach out his hand to touch his neighbor?<br>Or to measure the distance between the spheres?<br> <br>Where is the sun? Has its chariot broken a wheel?<br>Has the road it travels been cut off?<br>The gates of the East—are they locked?<br> <br>When will ebony turn to pearls?<br>When will this black veil be lifted and the white cheek revealed?<br>I hate this night.<br>The moon looks to me<br>Like a scab on the skin of an African.<br> <br>When I see the first tongues of fire, I shall rejoice.<br> <br>A night like an African.<br>“Can the Ethiopian change his skin?”<br>A sky like a leopard,<br>Spotted with stars.<br>Dark forevermore.<br>I give up. My eyes will never see the warm sun. Too late.<br> <br>A breeze is stealing between the trees,<br>Whispering to the willows a rumor of a secret love.<br>The birds are twittering.<br>Far away, a pigeon-dove murmurs a poem. As the night folds her wings,<br>A light rain of beauty is falling,<br>Raining down the dew of love like manna.<br>There is a fragrance like incense or myrrh.<br>Has Solomon sent me a poem, perfumed, wrapped to a pigeon-dove’s leg?<br>From the poem’s lines of black letters, greetings break forth like the dawn,<br>Light amid the grey morning,<br>Letters ink-black as night, but words bright as the dawn,<br>Like a girl who hides her cheeks behind her dark hair.<br>A poem not just perfumed but mined from the hills of perfume!<br>“Comely am I and black,”<br>Pitch-black letters like the black tents of Kedar<br>On paper like the white tents of Solomon.<br> <br>Marvels never seen: letters carved from fiery rock.<br>Shall these pages contain the flame of his words<br>Or will they feed the fire? When did fire not conquer straw?<br>These words are locked now within my heart,<br>Engraved there letter for letter<br>Placed there forever.<br>His poem is like a tapestry woven by the hands of thought,<br>Framed with beauty,<br>Worn like a crown.<br>His poem is like a song of jeweled fruit,<br>A song, a poem for the reader to taste.<br>My tongue shall sing it on a glass of wine.<br> <br>Here, for you, are the fruits of my poetry<br>Ripe after months of waiting.<br>But for my love you need never wait.<br> <br>A poem from your friend,<br>Whose fame has waited<br>Until after his best days.<br>Now he is so well known<br>That what he does not write<br>May be an oral tradition.<br> <br>He follows generous friends<br>And seeks out their company.<br>He is never far away.<br>If they are a hand, he is their thumb.<br> <br>Men sleep until the dawn awakes them,<br>But his soul is awake and his heart wakes the dawn,<br>To seek the love of his friend,<br>Pure love, inside and out.<br> <br>Take from my clumsy lips these golden words of poetry;<br>Place them around your neck.<br>Wear them like a bracelet.<br>For they are daughters of love, mined from the hill of love,<br>Given to you for your love like a dowry.<br> <br>The morning breeze warms the face of every lover,<br>But to me it shall always say: All is well with Solomon. Shalom.<br> <br>Translated by Joseph Davis</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Yehudah+HaLevi">Yehudah HaLevi</a><div class=q>
<img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share">
<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=540388" data-title="Ayin Nedivah ('Generous Eye'): Qasida for Solomon Ibn Ghiyyat de Yehudah HaLevi" data-description="I can’t stop crying.
My eyes are like peddler women.
What they buy is: you are gone.
What they sell is: tears,
And business is good:
Enough tears for a jeweled necklace.
 
I am weeping here in the ruins
Where lovers used to live.
I can’t hear ..."></div>
</div>
</div>