Jasmines
Your scent is in the room.
Swiftly it overwhelms and conquers me!
Jasmines, night jasmines, perfect of perfume,
Heavy with dew before the dawn of day!
Your face was in the mirror. I could see
You smile and vanish suddenly away,
Leaving behind the vestige of a tear.
Sad suffering face, from parting grown so dear!
Night jasmines cannot bloom in this cold place;
Without the street is wet and weird with snow;
The cold nude trees are tossing to and fro;
Too stormy is the night for your fond face;
For your low voice too loud the wind's mad roar.
But, oh, your scent is here--jasmines that grow
Luxuriant, clustered round your cottage door!
poem by Claude McKay
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Related quotes
The First Jasmines
Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with
these jasmines, these white jasmines.
I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;
I have heard the liquid murmur of the river thorough the
darkness of midnight;
Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the
lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept her lover.
Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines
that I held in my hands when I was a child.
Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with
merrymakers on festival nights.
On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song.
I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of bakulas woven
by the hand of love.
Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh
jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Wasteland of Solitude
In the wasteland of solitude, my love, quiver
shadows of your voice, illusions of your lips.
In the wasteland of solitude, from the dusts of parting
Sprout jasmines and roses of your presence
From somewhere close by, rises the warmth of your breath
and in its own aroma smolders, slowly, bit by bit.
Far-off, across the horizon, dropp by glistening drop
Falls the dew of your beguiling glance.
With such overwhelming love, O my love,
your memory has placed its hand on my heart's cheek,
that it looks as if (though it's still the dawn of the adieu)
the sun of parting has set; the night of union has come.
Translated by Zafar Iqbal Syed
poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
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Fragrance Jasmine ` Vavroovahana Patra
Beautiful silvery woman endowed with a garland of jasmines passes on the way;
The peerless heavenly beauty of the fairy, the fragrance of jasmines brings gay.
Wavy curly crisp hair pervades waves of enchantment;
In poet’s mind plays waves of merriment.
The beauty allures, enthuses the poet with profound pleasure;
Poet’s mind concentrates on the beauty, thinks a beautiful creation is joy for ever.
The Beauty entices with the twinkling of eye;
Poet derives profound pleasure, love affection, gay.
The Beauty is a Deity on Earth;
Is a melodious brook of mirth.
Evaporates the worries, anxieties pervading the fragrance of jasmines with loving conversation for ever;
Beautiful is the creation and unknown creator.
The Beauty of Beauties is the unknown Deity;
Is the Delight of Delights.
God’s omnipresence reveals, pervades through Beauty;
She is a sweet lovely melodious Brook of Delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Keep Me Fully Glad
II
Keep me fully glad with nothing. Only take my hand in your hand.
In the gloom of the deepening night take up my heart and play with it as you list. Bind me close to you with nothing.
I will spread myself out at your feet and lie still. Under this clouded sky I will meet silence with silence. I will become one with the night clasping the earth in my breast.
Make my life glad with nothing.
The rains sweep the sky from end to end. Jasmines in the wet untamable wind revel in their own perfume. The cloud-hidden stars thrill in secret. Let me fill to the full my heart with nothing but my own depth of joy.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Epilogue 1
just few memories
lies
in afternoon of June
alone
jasmines no more bloom
no more
around graveyard gradually
colder
poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi
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Upright Mirrors
for beheading the raceme
three bullets went into the bubbling chest the assassins
had come when she was alone with scars
on wings she sailed on voices of silence the melody
had kissed the moon in night without veil it was
dark night for blue hills they killed a bloom
of white jasmines why are you upset my love
she has gone on orange wheels towards the sun
the black sea mourns by throwing the wreaths
back on shore to protect the virginity of fishes
and waves a bleeding god disowns
the green earth
poem by Satish Verma
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A Woman's Mood
I THINK to-night I could bear it all,
Even the arrow that cleft the core,—
Could I wait again for your swift footfall,
And your sunny face coming in at the door.
With the old frank look and the gay young smile,
And the ring of the words you used to say;
I could almost deem the pain worth while,
To greet you again in the olden way!
But you stand without in the dark and cold,
And I may not open the long closed door,
Nor call thro’ the night, with the love of old,—
“Come into the warmth, as in nights of yore!”
I kneel alone in the red fire-glow,
And hear the wings of the wind sweep by;
You are out afar in the night, I know,
And the sough of the wind is like a cry.
You are out afar—and I wait within,
A grave-eyed woman whose pulse is slow;
The flames round the red coals softly spin,
And the lonely room’s in a rosy glow.
The firelight falls on your vacant chair,
And the soft brown rug where you used to stand;
Dear, never again shall I see you there,
Nor lift my head for your seeking hand.
Yet sometimes still, and in spite of all,
I wistful look at the fastened door,
And wait again for the swift footfall,
And the gay young voice as in hours of yore.
It still seems strange to be here alone,
With the rising sob of the wind without;
The sound takes a deep, insisting tone,
Where the trees are swinging their arms about.
Its moaning reaches the sheltered room,
And thrills my heart with a sense of pain;
I walk to the window, and pierce the gloom,
With a yearning look that is all in vain.
You are out in a night of depths that hold
No promise of dawning for you and me,
And only a ghost from the life of old
Has come from the world of memory!
You are out evermore! God wills it so!
But ah! my spirit is yearning yet!
As I kneel alone by the red fire-glow,
My eyes grow dim with the old regret.
O when shall the aching throb grow still,
The warm love-life turn cold at the core!
Must I be watching, against my will,
For your banished face in the opening door?
It may be, dear, when the sequel’s told
Of the story, read to its bitter close;
When the inner meanings of life unfold,
And the under-side of our being shows—
It may be then, in that truer light,
When all our knowledge has larger grown,
I may understand why you stray to-night,
And I am left, with the past, alone.
poem by Jenning Carmichael
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Life
Life is so beautiful
With butterflies and birds all around
Life is so wonderful
With flowers and trees on the ground
The hibiscus is so beautiful
They are so attractive and red
The cock and hen are wonderful
They have a crown upon their head
The jasmines are so beautiful
Day and night they spread their fragrance
The eagles are so wonderful
They are experts in vigilance
Life is so beautiful
With magnificent plants and trees
Life is so wonderful
You should help save it please
poem by Risha Ahmed
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Hot Night In A Cold Town
Sonnys out strolling, ambling slowly
Washed in amber street lights
A mexican wind blows in
Takin ahold of angelinas hair
And her halo
Motors running, muffling the sound
Of the street talk
A big deals goin down
In another hot night
In a cold town
Got yourself a hot night
In a cold town
Johnnys got spare change
In his pocket
A ring and a watch
To hock for a sweet ride
A one way ticket
Hidden in his shoe
These last few hours
He says hell spend with you
Hes leavin home without a trace
No forwarding address
Hell never have to face another
Hot night
In a cold town
Got yourself a hot night
In a cold town
Well, the losers and the groovers
And the corner boys
Are hangin around
Runnin in and out of doorways
Up and down the stairways
Stray dogs headed for the pound
In another
Hot night in a cold town
Got you, got yourself a
Hot night in a cold, cold town
Cold town
Its just another hot night
In a cold town
Such a cold town
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mother's Garden
My mother owns a beautiful
garden of flowers
Where I linger watching them
bloom for hours,
My radio on, Katherine
Jenkins singing, 'The Flower
Duet'
I could explain this like a
picture but I am no poet,
Alas let me try; butterflies
showing off their colourful
wings,
The garden also has an oak
tree with hanging swings-
Roses, daisies, jasmines,
violets, hazels, the divine
camillias-
Flowers so beautiful, their
reflections more lovelier,
As the Sun appears to bud from some petal,
I breathe my first, my heart
falls off its mantle
And in the core it once lay yours takes its place-
The light of the smile that
radiates from my face...
Many wish to see angels, sirens at sea,
But I have seen you, thats all I need to see.
Isunge Mwangase © March 17,2011
poem by Isunge Mwangase
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Come Slowly
Come slowly,
Eden
Lips unused to thee.
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -alights,
And is lost in balms!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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A Woman's Mood
I think to-night I could bear it all,
Even the arrow that cleft the core, --
Could I wait again for your swift footfall,
And your sunny face coming in at the door.
With the old frank look and the gay young smile,
And the ring of the words you used to say;
I could almost deem the pain worth while,
To greet you again in the olden way!
But you stand without in the dark and cold,
And I may not open the long closed door,
Nor call thro' the night, with the love of old, --
"Come into the warmth, as in nights of yore!"
I kneel alone in the red fire-glow,
And hear the wings of the wind sweep by;
You are out afar in the night, I know,
And the sough of the wind is like a cry.
You are out afar -- and I wait within,
A grave-eyed woman whose pulse is slow;
The flames round the red coals softly spin,
And the lonely room's in a rosy glow.
The firelight falls on your vacant chair,
And the soft brown rug where you used to stand;
Dear, never again shall I see you there,
Nor lift my head for your seeking hand.
Yet sometimes still, and in spite of all,
I wistful look at the fastened door,
And wait again for the swift footfall,
And the gay young voice as in hours of yore.
It still seems strange to be here alone,
With the rising sob of the wind without;
The sound takes a deep, insisting tone,
Where the trees are swinging their arms about.
Its moaning reaches the sheltered room,
And thrills my heart with a sense of pain;
I walk to the window, and pierce the gloom,
With a yearning look that is all in vain.
You are out in a night of depths that hold
No promise of dawning for you and me,
And only a ghost from the life of old
Has come from the world of memory!
You are out evermore! God wills it so!
But ah! my spirit is yearning yet!
As I kneel alone by the red fire-glow,
My eyes grow dim with the old regret.
O when shall the aching throb grow still,
The warm love-life turn cold at the core!
Must I be watching, against my will,
For your banished face in the opening door?
It may be, dear, when the sequel's told
Of the story, read to its bitter close;
When the inner meanings of life unfold,
And the under-side of our being shows --
It may be then, in that truer light,
When all our knowledge has larger grown,
I may understand why you stray to-night,
And I am left, with the past, alone.
poem by Arthur Bayldon
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Another Day
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night remain a while,
It's painful to face another day,
Without your loving smile.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night hide me away,
So I need not face another day,
Having had no communique.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night my sweet refuge be,
For having to face another day,
Would be sheer agony for me.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night my dreams suffuse,
How can I face another day,
When my heart cannot enthuse.
Wake not the dawn too early,
Let night be my stalwart shield,
Then maybe I can face another day,
When my sadness has been healed.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Women And City
actually time sleeps at night
while cities sleep in daytime
but their sleep gently touches
us in the evening as stale jasmines
remembered in time's sleep
their sleep is in opaque eyes
hidden in women's shadows
which get up and go after dusk.
poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
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Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day
The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.
Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.
Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.
The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.
The priest makes the groom by seven steps,
Promise to guard his spouse in life's ups.
Splattering holy rice and scenty JASMINE,
All bless 'LONG SMELLY LIKE JASMINE'!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Raat ki Raani (Night Queen)
Night-queen sparkled
Amidst fresh green leaves
Perfume in bunches!
Leaves hide
Behind bunches of flowers
Perfumed night!
Tiny petals
Five in numbers in
Perfect symmetry
and by morning
Some offered to earth
In gratitude for
Another day
The night queen
Sprayed an exotic perfume
Distinct from night's scent
The moon heady
With the night's scent
Slept satiated
But the sun glowed
And glowered helpless
In passion, unbound
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Gone the Dream
At the end of the day when all had been done
And all had been bad
In the kitchen laughing wih you
Before I went to bed
My face in the light illuminated
Untroubled and safe
As your face is shining upon me
A love that would never cease
Went out where the cold wind blows
It rocks my childhood sleep
And up in the starry skies
And further out to sea
Late in time when it will come
I see it in my dreams
At night with the cold wind blowing
At night with the cold wind blowing outside
Gone the dream
song performed by by Ash from 1977
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Delirium
The black snow runs down from the rooftops;
A red finger dips into your brow;
Blue snow flakes sink into the empty room,
They are a lovers’ dying mirrors.
Heavy and torn to pieces the mind muses,
Follows the shadow in the mirror of blue snow flakes,
The cold smile of a deceased harlot.
The evening’s wind weeps in the scent of carnations.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Cannot Hold
Got struck on the spiky gate
a half-eaten deer
shattering the panther.
Daggers were drawn.
Terrier was in the glass house.
Canine discretion to draw the blood
between friends.
A crisp murder of a terrorist.
spotted face of the relentless moon
sending flames to jasmines.
The little skulls popping up
amongst rumors.
I scream in a celestial leap.
I could walk in ruins
of incarnations
preaching for death.
poem by Satish Verma
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The melancholy of my lonely nights
Its so cold in this room of mine,
Its even worse in this bed of mine,
Missing the days we never spent,
The love we never endured,
And your presence, always absent,
The night comes along,
Switching off the lights might help,
Yet i see your face again,
Putting my head under the pillow might help
Yet i feel your presence again,
Spare me the torture angry night,
I miss her but dont haunt me
I remember you scent and get drunk,
Thinking of none that existed but you,
I dream just but you again,
The thoughts never vanish,
Is it a blessing or its disguised?
Is it nature or you have a charm?
Spell to enslave my thoughts,
Enslaving them with the thoughts of you,
You have become a second me,
Taking over and coming over,
Waking up from your thoughts,
Oh my God its only 11pm
Till dawn i think of you,
I dream of you, missing you,
Wanting you and needing you
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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