The Roses of Asfahan

Isfahan’s roses in lacing of moss,
Mosuli jasmines and blooms of naranj:
scent not more cool, nor a perfume more soft,
Leilah the pale! for your sigh is more light.  

Your lip is coral, your laughter so light
thrills living waters, its voice is more soft,                   
thrills joyous breezes that lull the naranj,
thrills the winged singer who nests in the moss.

Yet the shy scent of the roses in moss,
breezes that revel around the naranj,
yet, living waters that murmur so soft:
these charm more surely, your love is more light!

Leilah! The hour that those fleeting and light
kisses departed your red lips so soft,
perfume has fled from the pallid naranj,
heavenly scent from the rose in her moss.

No more the bird in moist nest in the moss
pours out her song to the rose and naranj,
nor in the gardens does water sigh soft,
nor does dawn’s gold touch the sky pure and light.

Bring your young love, bring the butterfly, light,
back to my heart on wings willing and soft;
bathe with its perfume the blooms of naranj,
Ispahan’s roses in lacing of moss.

Translated from the French by Timothy Ades