Short Poems

The God of love, the clouds, the nipples, the beloved are all excited
The wind, the zephyr, the love, the beloved are all excited
The dot on her forehead, her forelock the carefully applied lippaint are all excited
The sweets, the kisses, the laughter, the beloved are excited
The blouse, its revealing condition, the lotus, the beetle are all excited
Qutub, her well-developed breasts [and] she herself are all excited

[I can't] drink even a sip from the wine-cup in the absence of my beloved
[I can't] live even for a moment in the absence of my beloved
[People] advise that I should have patience if the beloved isn't around
It's easy to say but O my friend it's difficult to practice
O Qutub Shah! Don't counsel an insane person like me
[For] an insane person cannot be counseled

Thou hast produced mighty monarchs, of whom thou art not unworthy,
For the obedient alone make him who governs them great.
But, O Germany, try if thou for thy rulers canst make it
Harder as kings to be great,--easier, though, to be men!

What time the gifted lady took
Away from paper, pen, and book,
She spent in amorous dalliance
(They do those things so well in France).

When I admit neglect of Gissing,
They say I don't know what I'm missing.
Until their arguments are subtler,
I think I'll stick to Samuel Butler.

(Baldwin daydreams on Crete.)
Like Dionysius I & II of Greek Syracuse
Oh, to be a tyrant of wine, women & song
Now that’s a career path even I could choose,
Free from that oppressive bureaucratic pong.

She passed and left no quiver in the veins, who now
Moving among the trees, and clinging
in the air she severed,
Fanning the grass she walked on then, endures:
Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-cold sky.

How does the genius make itself known? In the way that in nature
Shows the Creator himself,--e'en in the infinite whole.
Clear is the ether, and yet of depth that ne'er can be fathomed;
Seen by the eye, it remains evermore closed to the sense.

Thus roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes,
Now serious am, now seek to please;
Now love and hate in turn one sees;
The motives now are those, now these;
Now nothings, now realities.
Thus roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes.

ll. 438-441) I will let him sit next me, whoever shall return to
hell proclaiming that they have set at naught, by word and deed,
the counsels of the King of heaven and been displeasing to the
Lord."

((LACUNA -- Section missing of indeterminate length.))