Flowing Waters

Waters flowing under the magic moonlight,
You bring back from out of the past's dim vistas,
Out of starry vasts and of purple spaces
Memories golden!

I can see the rills of the Pharpar gliding
Over sands that glow with the glint of amber,
Over pebbles hued like the chrysoberyl,
Agate and opal!

I can catch the scent of the rose and jasmine,
Catch the drowsy drift of the burning poppies,
Where the gardens (almond, citron, pomegranate)
Girdle Damascus!

I can hear the immemorial burden
Falling as it fell from the lips of Atys, —
The ecstatic, rapturous, passion-laden
Voice of the bulbul!

Flow, then, waters, under the magic moonlight!
Bear me out through night and its purple spaces,
Flood my sense and soul till they overflow with
Memories golden!