HKB
XIX.
Six days Salámán on the Camel rode, And then Remembrance of foregone Reproach Abode not by him; and upon the Seventh He halted on the Seashore, and beheld An Ocean boundless as the Heaven above, That, reaching its Circumference from Káf To Káf, down to the Back of Gau and Mahi Descended, and its Stars were Creatures' Eyes. The Face of it was as it were a Range Of moving Mountains; or as endless Hosts Of Camels trooping from all Quarters up, Furious, with the Foam upon their Lips. In it innumerable glittering Fish Like Jewels polish-sharp, to the sharp Eye But for an Instant visible, glancing through As Silver Scissors slice a blue Brocade; Though were the Dragon from its Hollow roused, The Dragon of the Stars would stare Aghast. Salámán eyed the Sea, and cast about To cross it—and forthwith upon the Shore Devis'd a Shallop like a Crescent Moon, Wherein that Sun and Moon in happy Hour, Enter'd as into some Celestial Sign; That, figured like a Bow, but Arrow-like In Flight, was feather'd with a little Sail, And, pitcht upon the Water like a Duck, So with her Bosom sped to her Desire. When they had sail'd their Vessel for a Moon, And marr'd their Beauty with the wind o' th' Sea, Suddenly in mid Sea reveal'd itself An Isle, beyond Description beautiful An Isle that all was Garden; not a Bird Of Note or Plume in all the World but there; There as in Bridal Retinue array'd The Pheasant in his Crown, the Dove in her Collar; And those who tuned their Bills among the Trees That Arm in Arm from Fingers paralyz'd With any Breath of Air Fruit moist and dry Down scatter'd in Profusion to their Feet, Where Fountains of Sweet Water ran, and round Sunshine and Shadow chequer-chased the Ground. Here Iram Garden seemed in Secresy Blowing the Rosebud of its Revelation; Or Paradise, forgetful of the Day Of Audit, lifted from her Face the Veil.
Salámán saw the Isle, and thought no more Of Further—there with Absál he sat down, Absál and he together side by side Rejoicing like the Lily and the Rose, Together like the Body and the Soul. Under its Trees in one another's Arms They slept—they drank its Fountains hand in hand— Sought Sugar with the Parrot—or in Sport Paraded with the Peacock—raced the Partridge— Or fell a-talking with the Nightingale. There was the Rose without a Thorn, and there The Treasure and no Serpent to beware— What sweeter than your Mistress at your side In such a Solitude, and none to Chide!
Whisper'd one to Wámik—"Oh Thou Victim of the Wound of Azra, What is it that like a Shadow Movest thou about in Silence Meditating Night and Day?" Wámik answered, "Even this— To fly with Azra to the Desert; There by so remote a Fountain That, whichever way one travell'd League on League, one yet should never, Never meet the Face of Man— There to pitch my Tent—for ever There to gaze on my Belovéd; Gaze, till Gazing out of Gazing Grew to Being Her I gaze on, She and I no more, but in One. Undivided Being blended, All that is not One must ever Suffer with the Wound of Absence; And whoever in Love's City Enters, finds but Room for One, And but in Oneness Union."
XX.