Poems, Victor Hugo [highly recommended books TXT] 📗

spirit, come with me Over the blue enchanted sea:

Morn and evening thou canst play In my garden, where the breeze Warbles through the fruity trees;

No shadow falls upon the day: There thy mother’s arms await Her cherished infant at the gate. Of Peris I the loveliest far— My sisters, near the morning star, In ever youthful bloom abide; But pale their lustre by my side— A silken turban wreathes my head, Rubies on my arms are spread, While sailing slowly through the sky, By the uplooker’s dazzled eye Are seen my wings of purple hue, Glittering with Elysian dew.

Whiter than a far-off sail

My form of beauty glows,

Fair as on a summer night

Dawns the sleep star’s gentle light;

And fragrant as the early rose

That scents the green Arabian vale,

Soothing the pilgrim as he goes.

THE FAY.

Beautiful infant (said the Fay),

In the region of the sun I dwell, where in a rich array The clouds encircle the king of day,

His radiant journey done. My wings, pure golden, of radiant sheen

(Painted as amorous poet’s strain), Glimmer at night, when meadows green

Sparkle with the perfumed rain

While the sun’s gone to come again. And clear my hand, as stream that flows;

And sweet my breath as air of May;

And o’er my ivory shoulders stray

Locks of sunshine;—tunes still play From my odorous lips of rose.

Follow, follow! I have caves Of pearl beneath the azure waves, And tents all woven pleasantly In verdant glades of Faëry. Come, belovèd child, with me, And I will bear thee to the bowers Where clouds are painted o’er like flowers, And pour into thy charmed ear Songs a mortal may not hear;

Harmonies so sweet and ripe

As no inspired shepherd’s pipe

E’er breathed into Arcadian glen,

Far from the busy haunts of men.

THE PERI.

My home is afar in the bright Orient, Where the sun, like a king, in his orange tent, Reigneth for ever in gorgeous pride—

And wafting thee, princess of rich countree,

To the soft flute’s lush melody, My golden vessel will gently glide, Kindling the water ‘long the side.

Vast cities are mine of power and delight,

Lahore laid in lilies, Golconda, Cashmere; And Ispahan, dear to the pilgrim’s sight,

And Bagdad, whose towers to heaven uprear;

Alep, that pours on the startled ear, From its restless masts the gathering roar, As of ocean hamm’ring at night on the shore.

Mysore is a queen on her stately throne,

Thy white domes, Medina, gleam on the eye,—

Thy radiant kiosques with their arrowy spires,

Shooting afar their golden fires

Into the flashing sky,— Like a forest of spears that startle the gaze Of the enemy with the vivid blaze.

Come there, beautiful child, with me, Come to the arcades of Araby, To the land of the date and the purple vine, Where pleasure her rosy wreaths doth twine, And gladness shall be alway thine; Singing at sunset next thy bed, Strewing flowers under thy head.

Beneath a verdant roof of leaves,

Arching a flow’ry carpet o’er,

Thou mayst list to lutes on summer eves

Their lays of rustic freshness pour,

While upon the grassy floor

Light footsteps, in the hour of calm,

Ruffle the shadow of the palm.

THE FAY.

Come to the radiant homes of the blest, Where meadows like fountain in light are drest, And the grottoes of verdure never decay, And the glow of the August dies not away. Come where the autumn winds never can sweep, And the streams of the woodland steep thee in sleep, Like a fond sister charming the eyes of a brother, Or a little lass lulled on the breast of her mother. Beautiful! beautiful! hasten to me! Colored with crimson thy wings shall be; Flowers that fade not thy forehead shall twine, Over thee sunlight that sets not shall shine.

The infant listened to the strain, Now here, now there, its thoughts were driven—

But the Fay and the Peri waited in vain,

The soul soared above such a sensual gain— The child rose to Heaven.

Asiatic Journal

 

LES ORIENTALES.—1829.

 

THE SCOURGE OF HEAVEN.

(“Là, voyez-vous passer, la nuée.”)

[I., November, 1828.]

 

I.

Hast seen it pass, that cloud of darkest rim? Now red and glorious, and now gray and dim,

Now sad as summer, barren in its heat? One seems to see at once rush through the night The smoke and turmoil from a burning site

Of some great town in fiery grasp complete.

Whence comes it? From the sea, the hills, the sky? Is it the flaming chariot from on high

Which demons to some planet seem to bring? Oh, horror! from its wondrous centre, lo! A furious stream of lightning seems to flow

Like a long snake uncoiling its fell ring.

II.

The sea! naught but the sea! waves on all sides! Vainly the sea-bird would outstrip these tides!

Naught but an endless ebb and flow! Wave upon wave advancing, then controlled Beneath the depths a stream the eyes behold

Rolling in the involved abyss below!

Whilst here and there great fishes in the spray Their silvery fins beneath the sun display,

Or their blue tails lash up from out the surge, Like to a flock the sea its fleece doth fling; The horizon’s edge bound by a brazen ring;

Waters and sky in mutual azure merge.

“Am I to dry these seas?” exclaimed the cloud. “No!” It went onward ‘neath the breath of God.

III.

 

Green hills, which round a limpid bay

Reflected, bask in the clear wave!

The javelin and its buffalo prey,

The laughter and the joyous stave!

The tent, the manger! these describe

A hunting and a fishing tribe

Free as the air—their arrows fly

Swifter than lightning through the sky!

By them is breathed the purest air,

Where’er their wanderings may chance!

Children and maidens young and fair,

And warriors circling in the dance!

Upon the beach, around the fire,

Now quenched by wind, now burning higher,

Like spirits which our dreams inspire

To hover o’er our trance.

 

Virgins, with skins of ebony,

Beauteous as evening skies,

Laughed as their forms they dimly see

In metal mirrors rise;

Others, as joyously as they,

Were drawing for their food by day,

With jet-black hands, white camels’ whey,

Camels with docile eyes.

 

Both men and women, bare,

Plunged in the briny bay.

Who knows them? Whence they were?

Where passed they yesterday?

Shrill sounds were hovering o’er,

Mixed with the ocean’s roar,

Of cymbals from the shore,

And whinnying courser’s neigh.

“Is’t there?” one moment asked the cloudy mass; “Is’t there?” An unknown utterance answered: “Pass!”

IV.

Whitened with grain see Egypt’s lengthened plains, Far as the eyesight farthest space contains,

Like a rich carpet spread their varied hues. The cold sea north, southwards the burying sand Dispute o’er Egypt—while the smiling land

Still mockingly their empire does refuse.

Three marble triangles seem to pierce the sky, And hide their basements from the curious eye.

Mountains—with waves of ashes covered o’er! In graduated blocks of six feet square From golden base to top, from earth to air

Their ever heightening monstrous steps they bore.

No scorching blast could daunt the sleepless ken Of roseate Sphinx, and god of marble green,

Which stood as guardians o’er the sacred ground. For a great port steered vessels huge and fleet, A giant city bathed her marble feet

In the bright waters round.

One heard the dread simoom in distance roar, Whilst the crushed shell upon the pebbly shore

Crackled beneath the crocodile’s huge coil. Westwards, like tiger’s skin, each separate isle Spotted the surface of the yellow Nile;

Gray obelisks shot upwards from the soil.

The starking set. The sea, it seemed to hold In the calm mirror this live globe of gold,

This world, the soul and torchbearer of our own. In the red sky, and in the purple streak, Like friendly kings who would each other seek,

Two meeting suns were shown.

“Shall I not stop?” exclaimed the impatient cloud. “Seek!” trembling Tabor heard the voice of God.

V.

Sand, sand, and still more sand! The desert! Fearful land! Teeming with monsters dread And plagues on every hand! Here in an endless flow, Sandhills of golden glow, Where’er the tempests blow,

Like a great flood are spread. Sometimes the sacred spot Hears human sounds profane, when As from Ophir or from Memphre

Stretches the caravan. From far the eyes, its trail Along the burning shale Bending its wavering tail,

Like a mottled serpent scan. These deserts are of God!

His are the bounds alone, Here, where no feet have trod,

To Him its centre known! And from this smoking sea Veiled in obscurity, The foam one seems to see

In fiery ashes thrown.

“Shall desert change to lake?” cried out the cloud. “Still further!” from heaven’s depths sounded that Voice aloud.

VI.

Like tumbled waves, which a huge rock surround; Like heaps of ruined towers which strew the ground,

See Babel now deserted and dismayed! Huge witness to the folly of mankind; Four distant mountains when the moonlight shined

Seem covered with its shade.

O’er miles and miles the shattered ruins spread Beneath its base, from captive tempests bred,

The air seemed filled with harmony strange and dire; While swarmed around the entire human race A future Babel, on the world’s whole space

Fixed its eternal spire.

Up to the zenith rose its lengthening stair, While each great granite mountain lent a share

To form a stepping base; Height upon height repeated seemed to rise, For pyramid on pyramid the strainèd eyes

Saw take their ceaseless place.

Through yawning walls huge elephants stalked by; Under dark pillars rose a forestry,

Pillars by madness multiplied; As round some giant hive, all day and night, Huge vultures, and red eagles’ wheeling flight

Was through each porch descried.

“Must I complete it?” said the angered cloud. “On still!” “Lord, whither?” groaned it, deep not loud.

VII.

Two cities, strange, unknown in history’s page, Up to the clouds seemed scaling, stage by stage, Noiseless their streets; their sleeping inmates lie, Their gods, their chariots, in obscurity! Like sisters sleeping ‘neath the same moonlight, O’er their twin towers crept the shades of night, Whilst scarce distinguished in the black profound, Stairs, aqueducts, great pillars, gleamed around, And ruined capitals: then was seen a group Of granite elephants ‘neath a dome to stoop, Shapeless, giant forms to view arise, Monsters around, the spawn of hideous ties! Then hanging gardens, with flowers and galleries: O’er vast fountains bending grew ebon-trees; Temples, where seated on their rich tiled thrones, Bull-headed idols shone in jasper stones; Vast halls, spanned by one block, where watch and stare Each upon each, with straight and moveless glare, Colossal heads in circles; the eye sees Great gods of bronze, their hands upon their knees. Sight seemed confounded, and to have lost its powers, ‘Midst bridges, aqueducts, arches, and round towers, Whilst unknown shapes fill up the devious views Formed by these palaces and avenues. Like capes, the lengthening shadows seem to rise Of these dark buildings, pointed to the skies, Immense entanglement in shroud of gloom! The stars which gleamed in the empyrean dome, Under the thousand arches in heaven’s space Shone as through meshes of the blackest lace. Cities of hell, with foul desires demented, And monstrous pleasures, hour by hour invented! Each roof and home some monstrous mystery bore! Which through the world spread like a twofold sore! Yet all things slept, and scarce some pale late light Flitted along the streets through the still night, Lamps of debauch, forgotten and alone, The feast’s lost fires left there to flicker on; The walls’ large angles clove the light-lengthening shades ‘Neath the white moon, or on some pool’s face played. Perchance one heard, faint in the plain beneath, The kiss suppressed, the mingling of the breath; And the two