Classic and Contemporary Poetry
IN PRAISE OF THE KING, by IBN AMMAR Poet's Biography First Line: Pass round the bowl; the breeze of morn Last Line: The brazier of my thought? Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; Royal Court Life; Royalty; Kings; Queens | ||||||||
Pass round the bowl; the breeze of morn Is blowing free and wide, The nightbound stars, now travel-worn, Have tossed their reins aside. Behold how yonder camphor, our Great gift from rising dawn, Gleams, as from heaven night her dower Of amber has withdrawn. The meadow, that fair maiden, wears Her robe of every hue The flowers, and a necklace bears Bejewelled all with dew. The roses, like some modest girl's Shy blushes, blossom red; The tossing myrtles hang like curls About her lovely head. Against the garden's gown of green A silver wrist doth gleam: In virgin purity serene Flows on the silent stream. Now as the breeze its surface bright Disturbs, there seems to glow My monarch's sword, that puts to flight The legions of his foe. Abbad's great son, whose bounteous hand Alleviates all lack, Keeps ever green the grateful land Although the skies be black. And he bestows, for virtue's meed, A pure and lovely maid, A horse of mettle and of breed, A gem-encrusted blade. A monarch he who, when the kings Of earth come down to drink, They dare not venture to the springs Until he leaves their brink. More fresh than dew his bounty lies Upon the hearts of those Who weary, sweeter to the eyes Than slumberful repose. He strikes the flint of ardent fame; The fire of battle he Quits never, save to light the flame Of hospitality. A king as virtuous as wise, As charming as discreet, A garden lovely to the eyes With fruitfulness replete. The Kauthar of his gifts to me Is boundless; I know well That with his liberality In Paradise I dwell. Since fruitful branches most delight, As you observe most clear, Their monarchs' heads you featly smite To fructify your spear. Observing beauty evermore In scarlet robes arrayed Most sweetly, with their champions' gore Your breastplate you have sprayed. Accept this tribute, if it please, A garden drenched with showers And visited by morning's breeze, Until it bore these flowers. I wove for their embroidery Your fame, a golden thread, And o'er my verses cunningly Your fragrant praise I shed. Who dares contend with me thereon, Since I your name have brought For aloes-wood, to lay upon The brazier of my thought? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOTHWELL: PART 4 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN IN PHARAOH'S TOMB by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR THE INVESTITURE by CECIL DAY LEWIS ELEGY ASKING THAT IT BE THE LAST; FOR INGRID ERHARDT, 1951-1971 by NORMAN DUBIE L,ENVOI: IN OUR TIME by ERNEST HEMINGWAY VASHTI by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON LINES ON CARMEN SYLVA by EMMA LAZARUS |
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