The Dream Ring of the Desert
THE MERCHANT Abu Khan shunned the customs of his race,
And sought the cultured wisdom of the West.
His daughter fair Leola had the desert’s supple grace,
With an English education of the best.
The suitors for her hand were as grains of desert sand
But the merchant bade the Arab swarm begone:
And he swore a mighty oath, she should only make troth
With an Englishman an Englishman or none!
The chieftain Ben Kamir, tho’ rejected, stayed to plead,
But Abu Khan replied, ‘Thy suit is vain.
I cast aside my kinsmen and I scorn the prophet’s creed;
So get thee to thy tents, across the plain.’
‘Enough,’ the Chief replied, ‘Thine eyes are blind with pride,
But Allah hears my prayers and guides my star,
With patience I shall wait till I am called by Fate,
And then I shall return to Akabar.’
The right man came at last in the month of Ramadhan,
An Englishman who learned to love her soon.
His suit was proudly sanctioned by the merchant Abu Khan,
And the wedding was to be at the full moon.
The merchant, in his pride, thought the news too good to hide,
And it circled round the desert near and far:
Circled round and caught the ear of the chieftain Ben Kamir,
And he turned his camel’s head to Akabar.
The chieftain wore his robe of green, an emblem of his rank.
And many bowed in honour of the man.
But heedless of their reverence he beat his camel’s flank,
And rode on to the house of Abu Khan.
The merchant, from his roof, saw the chief, but held aloof
A suitor twice dismissed was one to shun
But Kamir declared his ride was in homage to the bride,
And the merchant’s fears vanished one by one.
‘Leola,’ said the Arab, as she came to greet the guests
‘Thy praises are beyond what I can sing,
But let this little token bring the fortune of the best.’
And he placed upon her hand an opal ring.
‘’Tis more than what it seems, and its spell shall gild thy dreams,
For ’twas carried by Mahomet, Allah’s Priest.’
Then the chieftain said goodbye, and she watched him with a sigh,
As he rode across the desert to the East.
Leola dreamt a dream most strange, and nightly ’twas the same,
And love within her breast began to peep.
A voice from out the burning sandhills called and called her name,
And waking she would long again for sleep.
The wedding eve’s bright moon saw her rise as from a swoon,
With the dream voice ringing still within her ear,
Saw her glide toward the sand, where the stately palmtrees stand,
To the desert, and the arms of Ben Kamir.
The chieftain pointed Eastward to the plains he loved so well,
And told her of his plans for hasty flight.
The dream-ring on her finger held her soul within its spell.
And they rode across the desert thro’ the night.
On the morrow, lined with care, at the Maghrib sunset prayer,
The merchant joined the worshippers unshod.
And he cried with spirit broken, as the Mueddin’s chant was spoken,
‘Mahomet is the prophet, God is God.’
poem by John Milton Hayes
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Related quotes
Mr Dream Merchant
(ross / weiss)
Hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
When I said goodbye
To my love
I didnt mean to make him cry
I didnt realise that I had love
Now I need him by my side
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
You should have told this fool
To stop it
You should have made this blind girl see
I got my pride back in my pocket
Wont you bring him back to me?
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Cant you make him see
We need each other?
Im no good alone
I really really, really love him
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Cant you make him see
We need each other?
Im no good alone
I really, really love him
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Glenara
O, heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?
'Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear;
And her sire and her people are called to her bier.
Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud;
Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud;
Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around;
They marched all in silence, - they looked on the ground.
In silence they reached, over mountain and moor,
To a heath where the oak-tree grew lonely and hoar;
'Now here let us place the gray stone of her cairn; -
Why speak ye no word?' said Glenara the stern.
'And tell me, I charge ye, ye clan of my spouse,
Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your brows?'
So spake the rude chieftain; no answer is made.
But each mantle, unfolding, a dagger displayed.
'I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her shroud.'
Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud;
'And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem;
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!'
O, pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween,
When the shroud was unclosed and no lady was seen;
When a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in scorn, -
'Twas the youth who had loved the fair Ellen of Lorn,
'I dreamt of my lady, I dreamt of her grief,
I dreamt that her lord was a barbarous chief;
On a rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem;
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!'
In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
And the desert revealed where his lady was found;
From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne;
Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn.
poem by Thomas Campbell
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Desert Plains
Full moon is rising
The sky is black
I need your call Im coming back
The road is straight cast
Winds in my eyes
The engine roars between my thighs
From desert plains I bring you love
From desert plains I bring you love
Wild mountain thunder
Echoes my quest
My body aches but Ill not rest
Quartz light to guide me
Till sunrise leads
My passion screams, my heart it bleeds
From desert plains I bring you love
From desert plains I bring you love
Then in the distance
I see you stand
On the horizon you raise your hand
In burning rubber
I end my quest
You fall into my arms at last
From desert plains I bring you love
From desert plains I bring you love
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The oil merchant handles gold and diamonds; the grain merchant does business with silver, but the wine merchant is a poor man.
The Ballad of the Murdered Merchant
All stark and cold the merchant lay,
All cold and stark lay he.
And who hath killed the fair merchant?
Now tell the truth to me.
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Will never again draw breath;
Oh, I have made this fair merchant
To come unto his death.
Oh, why hast thou killed this fair merchant
Whose corpse I now behold?
And why hast caused this man to lie
In death all stark and cold?
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Whose kith and kin make moan,
For that he hath stolen my precious time
When he useth the telephone.
The telephone bell rang full and clear;
The receiver did I seize.
"Hello!" quoth I, and quoth a girl,
"Hello! . . . One moment, please."
I waited moments ane and twa,
And moments three and four,
And then I sought the fair merchant
And spilled his selfish gore.
That business man who scorneth to waste
His moments sae rich and fine
In calling a man to the telephone
Shall never again waste mine!
And every time a henchwoman
Shall cause me a moment's loss,
I'll forthwith fare to that office
And stab to death her boss.
Rise up! Rise up! thou blesséd knight!
And off thy bended knees!
Go forth and slay all folk who make
Us wait "One moment, please."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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The Khan's Devil
The Khan came from Bokhara town
To Hamza, santon of renown.
'My head is sick, my hands are weak;
Thy help, O holy man, I seek.'
In silence marking for a space
The Khan's red eyes and purple face,
Thick voice, and loose, uncertain tread,
'Thou hast a devil!' Hamza said.
'Allah forbid!' exclaimed the Khan.
Rid me of him at once, O man!'
'Nay,' Hamza said, 'no spell of mine
Can slay that cursed thing of thine.
'Leave feast and wine, go forth and drink
Water of healing on the brink
'Where clear and cold from mountain snows,
The Nahr el Zeben downward flows.
'Six moons remain, then come to me;
May Allah's pity go with thee!'
Awestruck, from feast and wine the Khan
Went forth where Nahr el Zeben ran.
Roots were his food, the desert dust
His bed, the water quenched his thirst;
And when the sixth moon's scimetar
Curved sharp above the evening star,
He sought again the santon's door,
Not weak and trembling as before,
But strong of limb and clear of brain;
'Behold,' he said, 'the fiend is slain.'
'Nay,' Hamza answered, 'starved and drowned,
The curst one lies in death-like swound.
'But evil breaks the strongest gyves,
And jins like him have charmed lives.
'One beaker of the juice of grape
May call him up in living shape.
'When the red wine of Badakshan
Sparkles for thee, beware, O Khan,
'With water quench the fire within,
And drown each day thy devilkin!'
Thenceforth the great Khan shunned the cup
As Shitan's own, though offered up,
With laughing eyes and jewelled hands,
By Yarkand's maids and Samarcand's.
And, in the lofty vestibule
Of the medress of Kaush Kodul,
The students of the holy law
A golden-lettered tablet saw,
With these words, by a cunning hand,
Graved on it at the Khan's command:
'In Allah's name, to him who hath
A devil, Khan el Hamed saith,
'Wisely our Prophet cursed the vine
The fiend that loves the breath of wine,
'No prayer can slay, no marabout
Nor Meccan dervis can drive out.
'I, Khan el Hamed, know the charm
That robs him of his power to harm.
'Drown him, O Islam's child! the spell
To save thee lies in tank and well!'
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Desert Rose
Words and music by sting
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of fire
Those dreams that tie two hearts that will never die
And near the flames
The shadows play in the shape of the mans desire
This desert rose
Whose shadow bears the secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume that would torture you more than this
And now she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothings as it seems
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes
The rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of love
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
Sweet desert rose
Whose shadow bears the secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume that would torture you more than this
Sweet desert rose
This memory of hidden hearts and souls
This desert flower
This rare perfurme is the sweet intoxication of love
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Went Down into the Desert
I went down into the desert
To meet Elijah—
Arisen from the dead.
I thought to. find him in an echoing cave;
For so my dream had said.
I went down into the desert
To meet John the Baptist.
I walked with feet that bled,
Seeking that prophet lean and brown and bold.
I spied foul fiends instead.
I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
By him be comforted.
I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
And I met the devil in red.
I went down into the desert
To meet my God.
O, Lord my God, awaken from the dead!
I see you there, your thorn-crown on the ground,
I see you there, half-buried in the sand.
I see you there, your white bones glistening, bare,
The carrion-birds a-wheeling round your head.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The thought in my mind was that I must be a good merchant. If I were a good merchant, the rest would probably take care of itself.
quote by James Cash Penney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the Spirit of Rumi-39-The Desert
As the cool dawn brings the light
to the desert where the blue-white sky
meets the sand that time and man have brought,
and you wake the camel boy
to lead the camels from the waterside –
before you mount the lurching beast
and sway off into the desert on your path,
the camel-bells tinkling on the harness,
look into the camel’s eyes.
There you will see mingled,
pride in its being; patience in its duty.
The wise men say that God is found
where opposites meet and are resolved.
Proud in its being, patient in its duty –
no great wonder, then, that the camel
has been chosen of God to take you
across the desert of your destiny in faith and trust;
for in the world of metaphor, where man meets God
in the mind’s own language,
the camel is your body; dutiful proud servant
for the journey you must take; your company
for the length of time that journey takes.
So, traveller, when you reach the green and cool oasis
at the ending of the day’s sufficient journey -
first tie your camel by the waters of refreshment
before you kneel; for food; for prayer; then
resting in the bright-eyed company;
the eyes of those who scan the round horizon as they ride
and wonder always, what oasis lies beyond.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Painted Desert
[ jerome augustyniak/natalie merchant ]
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When Im sure the rains have ended, the blooms have gone,
Everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there in every roadside stand
Where the big deal is cowboy gear won in japan?
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When Im sure the rains have ended and the blooms have gone,
Everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there upon the northern rim
Or in the ruins of the hopi mesa dens?
You met a new friend in the canyon, or so you wrote.
On a blanket in the cooling sand you and your friend agreed that
The stars were so many there they seemed to overlap.
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When I am sure the rain has ended, the blooms have gone,
Everyone killed by the morning frost.
Was a cactus blooming there as you watched the native boy?
In flagstaff trailer court, you wrote the line:
He kicked a tumbleweed and his mother called him home where the arizona moon met the arizona sun.
I wanted to be there by may at the latest time.
Isnt that the plan we had or have you changed your mind?
I havent read a word from you since phoenix or tucson.
April is over will you tell me how long before I can be there?
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crying Desert
Each and every sand of desert
Asks me as an expert
Where you were
When she was doing this crime
She left me alone, all alone
In the roaring desert zone
I just wanted her to phone
But she was not in the home
The scene was so horrifying
I searched and every sand
The desert called me crying
She is now in their hand
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Girl From The Wadi Hammamat
Sometimes it seems like a beautiful dream
The girl from the wadi hammamat
Lovely as a green parakeet
I awake alone again
In the desert of my dreams
A fertile oasis I have seen
I cast my voice to the burning winds
Across the dunes khamsin khamsin
Bring her to me on desires wings
On the burning desert wind
She means the world to me
In a single grain of sand
Bring a camel to this man
Perched on a bough her tresses hang down
The girl from the wadi hammamat
She is as sweet as a green parakeet
Sometimes it seems like a beautiful dream
The girl from the wadi hammamat
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Desert Wind
I went with happy heart (how happy!) a while since
Behind my camel flocks,
Piping all day where the Nile pastures end
And the white sand begins
Among the rocks.
The wheeling eagles mocked me high there from the skies,
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
I saw a lady pass, (what lady?) none could tell,
Nor of her tribe nor race,
Of Roum or Franjistan or Fars or Hind;
None knew. But I knew well
That her sweet face
Had blossomed first within the gates of Paradise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Within a tasselled frame, rich wrought, she sat and sang
A song of love so sweet,
That beast and bird and serpent came behind,
And lizard with shut fang
And faltering feet.
My flocks strayed after them, and I who heard likewise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Upon a camel tall (how tall!) she rode by me
Enrobed in white and red,
And veiled to her bright eyes in bands that bind
But hide not all souls see;
And on her head
A crown entwined of wool with gold and various dyes.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Out to the wilderness, all day, we followed her.
By winding paths untrod,
O'er rock and plain none knew nor I could find,
Although my home was there;
And still we rode.
The creatures tired and stopped; but I went on with sighs.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
We came to a deep pool (how deep!) I knew of none
In all that land accursed,
A pool of waters clear with white shells lined,
And there we lighted down
And suaged our thirst,
And bathed our weary limbs, we two without disguise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Upon the brink we sat (ah me!) alone, we two,
In that fair empty place.
I kissed her hands and told her all my mind,
And dared her grace to sue,
Her utter grace.
And she with smiles said ``yea'' to my too blest surprise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Ah me, that night of stars, those bridal stars of heaven!
Ah me, those eyes of hers,
So sweet, so near, of that same starry kind,
Which drank their light ungiven,
(Poor blinded stars!)
And left them dark as they have left me wise.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
How shall I tell it? All three months of happy love
I lived with her, blest queen,
Fed on sole joy and what God's care might send
Of milk and treasure--trove
Of sorrels green,
And roots and tubers fine and samh which we made prize.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
Since when I search the Earth (sad Earth!) in vain to win
Once more her wondrous voice,
Which led me forth to doom and left me blind,
Bereft of flocks and kin
And homely joys,
Of wife and children's love and to behold the skies.
The red blast of the desert wind
Hath seared mine eyes.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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My Desert Serenade
(words & music by stan gelber)
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
A lovers melody, to bring you close to me
Its a tender lullaby, born of golden sand and sky
The song is new, and its calling you
Tonight beside the desert palms
Come let me take you in my arms
Come here my serenade, my desert serenade
Wherever lovers dwell, it weaves its magic spell
Soon a thousand dreams will start,
And romance will fill your heart
My lips conceal, love thats warm and real
Give me a chance to hold you near
Youll see a brand new world appear
So come and hear, my desert serenade, my desert serenade,
My desert serenade
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ahab The Arab
(ray stevens)
Let me tell you bout ahab the arab, the sheik of the burning sand,
He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off a him and a ring on every finger of his hand.
He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side
And every evening about midnight hed jump on his camel named clyde.
And ride silently through the night to the sultans tent
Where he would secretly meet up with fatima of the seven veils.
She was the swinginest number one dancer in the sultans whole harem.
It was like him and her they had a little adam going, you see,
Behind the old buggers back.
And you could hear him talking to his camel
And as he rode out across the dunes past the oil wells
His voice would cut through the still night desert air
And hed say, maaaaaaa oyy oyy oyy !!!
Which is arabic for oh, baby ...
And clyde would say, yewrah raaaoww uh uh uh uh uh!
Well, he brought his camel to a screeching halt at the rear of fatimas tent,
Jumped off clyde, snuck around the corner and into the tent he went.
There he saw fatima laying on a, on a zebra skin rug,
With rings on her fingers, bells on her toes and a bone in her nose, eeeeyye.
There she was friends and neighbors, laying there in all her radiant beauty,
She was eating on a raisin, had a grape, and an apricot, and a pomegranate,
A bowl of chitterlings, two bananas, three hershey bars, four burritos,
Sipping on a frozen margarita, listening to a transistor radio,
Watching the grand ole opry, reading rolling stone magazine and singing rocky mountain high.
And ahab walked up to her and he said, yeeeiiaaaahowowhidehowdihi!
Which is arabic for, lets boogie again like we did last summer, baby.
And she said, oh, ahab, ah ha uh, ahab. crazy, baby.
And thats the story about ahab the arab, the sheik of the burning sand,
He had emeralds and rubies just a-dripping off a him and a ring on every finger of his hand.
He wore a big old turban wrapped around his head, a scimitar by his side,
And every evening about midnight hed jump on his camel named clyde ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I loved all the love away
I loved all the love away
Left with mine prodigal hand
Mine heart through my fingers play
To soft white sensual sand
In a desert of sheer famine
Bereft of love and love's sea
I scavenge the ground and examine
The desert of what's left of me
Nothing but white sand and shore
Where the moon tide's waves
move rippled sand of desert galore
to taunt and with will depraves
The love I need, but shows the love I had
Lost in the desert delusional I'm utterly mad…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Fugitive. (Tartar Song, From The Prose Version Of Chodzko)
I.
'He is gone to the desert land
I can see the shining mane
Of his horse on the distant plain,
As he rides with his Kossak band!
'Come back, rebellious one!
Let thy proud heart relent;
Come back to my tall, white tent,
Come back, my only son!
'Thy hand in freedom shall
Cast thy hawks, when morning breaks,
On the swans of the Seven Lakes,
On the lakes of Karajal.
'I will give thee leave to stray
And pasture thy hunting steeds
In the long grass and the reeds
Of the meadows of Karaday.
'I will give thee my coat of mail,
Of softest leather made,
With choicest steel inlaid;
Will not all this prevail?'
II.
'This hand no longer shall
Cast my hawks, when morning breaks,
On the swans of the Seven Lakes,
On the lakes of Karajal.
'I will no longer stray
And pasture my hunting steeds
In the long grass and the reeds
Of the meadows of Karaday.
'Though thou give me thy coat of mall,
Of softest leather made,
With choicest steel inlaid,
All this cannot prevail.
'What right hast thou, O Khan,
To me, who am mine own,
Who am slave to God alone,
And not to any man?
'God will appoint the day
When I again shall be
By the blue, shallow sea,
Where the steel-bright sturgeons play.
'God, who doth care for me,
In the barren wilderness,
On unknown hills, no less
Will my companion be.
'When I wander lonely and lost
In the wind; when I watch at night
Like a hungry wolf, and am white
And covered with hoar-frost;
'Yea, wheresoever I be,
In the yellow desert sands,
In mountains or unknown lands,
Allah will care for me!'
III.
Then Sobra, the old, old man,--
Three hundred and sixty years
Had he lived in this land of tears,
Bowed down and said, 'O Khan!
'If you bid me, I will speak.
There's no sap in dry grass,
No marrow in dry bones! Alas,
The mind of old men is weak!
'I am old, I am very old:
I have seen the primeval man,
I have seen the great Gengis Khan,
Arrayed in his robes of gold.
'What I say to you is the truth;
And I say to you, O Khan,
Pursue not the star-white man,
Pursue not the beautiful youth.
'Him the Almighty made,
And brought him forth of the light,
At the verge and end of the night,
When men on the mountain prayed.
'He was born at the break of day,
When abroad the angels walk;
He hath listened to their talk,
And he knoweth what they say.
'Gifted with Allah's grace,
Like the moon of Ramazan
When it shines in the skies, O Khan,
Is the light of his beautiful face.
'When first on earth he trod,
The first words that he said
Were these, as he stood and prayed,
There is no God but God!
'And he shall be king of men,
For Allah hath heard his prayer,
And the Archangel in the air,
Gabriel, hath said, Amen!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 11
A brave warrior who had received a dreadful wound in the Tatar war was informed that a certain merchant possessed a medicine which he would probably not refuse to give if asked for; but it is related that the said merchant was also well known for his avarice.
If instead of bread he had the sun in his table-cloth
No one could see daylight till the day of resurrection.
The warrior replied: ‘If I ask for the medicine he will either give it or refuse it and if he gives it maybe it will profit me, and maybe not. At any rate the inconvenience of asking it from him is a lethal poison.’
Whatever thou obtainest by entreaties from base men
Will profit thy body but injure thy soul.
And philosophers have said: ‘If for instance the water of life were to be exchanged for a good reputation, no wise man would purchase it because it is preferable to die with honour than to live in disgrace.’
To eat coloquinth from the hand of a sweet-tempered man
Is better than confectionery from the hand of an ill-humoured fellow.
Philosophers Bones
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Underdog bitten holes of the head
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Unleashed sunflower sunward led
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
In windblown power the dinas bled
He’s given them all to a Desert Man
Like tears in the desert rose shed
Stone alone atoned in the last sand clock
Soul alone attained keyed within the lock
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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