A Virtuous Wife

One moment I place your two bright pearls against my robe,
And the red silk mirrors a rose in each.

Why did I not meet you before I married?

See, there are two tears quivering at my lids;
I am giving back your pearls.

From the Chinese of Chang Chi (770-850).

Edward Powys Mathers

Edward Powys Mathers was an English translator and poet, best known for translating the French Orientalist J.C. Mardrus's translation of 'The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night' in 1923. In addition to translations, Powys Mathers was an influential figure in the realm of cryptic crosswords, devising some of the most challenging puzzles for 'The Observer'. His translations have been lauded for their literary beauty and for introducing English-speaking audiences to classic Persian, Arabic, and Turkish poetry.

Edward Powys Mathers

Separation

Edward Powys Mathers, Simple Poetry

Her Nails

Edward Powys Mathers, Simple Poetry

Drink Song

Edward Powys Mathers, Simple Poetry

Disquiet

Edward Powys Mathers, Simple Poetry

English

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To My Wife (With A Set Of Roman Pearls)

(See Note 12)

Pray, take these pearls! - and my thanks for them
You lavished, the home of my youth to gem!
The thousands of hours of peaceful luster
Your spirit has filled, are pearls that cluster
    With beauty blest
    On my happy breast,
    And softly shining
    My brow are entwining
With thoughts whence the truth gleams: Thus gave his wife,
Who jeweled with tenderest love his life!

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

The Western Window

At the head of a thousand roaring warriors,
With the sound of gongs,
My husband has departed
Following glory.

At first I was overjoyed
To have a young girl's liberty.

Now I look at the yellowing willow-leaves;
They were green the day he left.

I wonder if he also was glad?

From the Chinese of Wang Ch'ang Ling (eighth century).

Edward Powys Mathers

The Vaudois Teacher

"O Lady fair, these silks of mine are beautiful and rare,
The richest web of the Indian loom, which beauty's queen might wear;
And my pearls are pure as thy own fair neck, with whose radiant light they vie;
I have brought them with me a weary way, will my gentle lady buy?"

The lady smiled on the worn old man through the dark and clustering curls
Which veiled her brow, as she bent to view his silks and glittering pearls;
And she placed their price in the old man's hand and lightly turned away,
But she paused at the wanderer's earnest call, "My gentle lady, stay!

"O lady fair, I have yet a gem which a purer lustre flings,
Than the diamond flash of the jewelled crown on the lofty brow of kings;
A wonderful pearl of exceeding price, whose virtue shall not decay,
Whose light sh...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Introduction To The Garden of Bright Waters - One Hundred and Twenty Asiatic Love Poems

Head in hand, I look at the paper leaf;
It is still white.

I look at the ink
Dry on the end of my brush.

My soul sleeps.
Will it ever wake?

I walk a little in the pouring of the sun
And pass my hands over the higher flowers.

There is the soft green forest,
There are the sweet lines of the mountains
Carved with snow, red in the sunlight.

I see the slow march of the clouds,
I hear the crows jeering, and I come back

To sit and look at the paper leaf,
Which is still white
Under my brush.

From the Chinese of Chang-Chi (770-850).

Edward Powys Mathers

A Virtuous Woman.

Proverbs, Chap. xxxi.

A woman pure, oh, who can find?
Her price is dearer far than gold,
And greater in her husband's mind,
Than shining gems, or pearls untold.

In her he safely puts his trust,
And while her life shall last,
His welfare she shall surely seek,
His honor, holding fast.

With willing hands she works in flax,
In wool, and many other things,
And, rising early in the morn,
Her household's portion duly brings.

She buyeth fields, she planteth vines,
And girds herself to duty's round,
And far into the shades of night,
Her spindle plies with busy sound.

Her open hand, and gen'rous heart,
The poor and needy daily bless,
And in the cold her household walk,
All warmly clad in scarlet dress.

And sh...

Thomas Frederick Young

The Willow-Leaf

I am in love with a child dreaming at the window.

Not for her elaborate house
On the banks of Yellow River;

But for a willow-leaf she has let fall
        Into the water.

I am in love with the east breeze.

Not that he brings the scent of the flowering of peaches
        White on Eastern Hill;

But that he has drifted the willow-leaf
        Against my boat.

I am in love with the willow-leaf.

Not that he speaks of green spring
        Coming to us again;

But that the dreaming girl
Pricked there a name with her embroidery needle,
        And the name is mine.

From the Chinese of Chang Chiu Ling (675-740).

Edward Powys Mathers