Like a Wind Of a Blissful Country

Like a wind of a blissful country,
Flying moans of the lovers are
Like spikes in the heavy ripe grain,
Bowing heads of the unbending are.

An Arab is humming in the desert –
“Off my body you ripped my soul”.
At the blue sea a Greek is howling –
“You flew into my heart like a swan”.

But the beauty is submissive to them!
The Greek sweetheart is burning candles,
And with grains of warmth and essence
The habibti is heating the tent.

From border to border there's only one call
It spreads ever wider and wondrous
Have you guessed it, my darling, my soul,
In this discreet and plain motive?

My darling with a summer smile,
With slim and frail arms you are,
Like two thousand year-old honey
Your black and sultry hairs are.

(Nikolay Gumilyov, 1918
Translation by Svetlana Rakhimova, 2013)