Some flowers are withered and some joys have died;
The garden reeks with an East Indian scent
From beds where gillyflowers stand weak and spent;
The white heat pales the skies from side to side;
But in still lakes and rivers, cool, content,
Like starry blooms on a new firmament,
White lilies float and regally abide.
In vain the cruel skies their hot rays shed;
The lily does not feel their brazen glare.
In vain the pallid clouds refuse to share
Their dews, the lily feels no thirst, no dread.
Unharmed she lifts her queenly face and head;
She drinks of living waters and keeps fair.
July is my birth month and I can see the water lilies and the Jasmine in bloom...
How wonderful-a poem about my birth month! : -) At first I wasn't too happy about the first lines (I didn't really like the words 'withered, ' 'died, ' and 'reeks' in there) , but then I read the rest of it and my opinion changed! It's so nice how H.H.J. described how the lily stays beautiful even in the face of cruelty. All in all, a beatiful poem.: -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Perfectly lovely poem about the scourge of July sun and drought upon nature and her previously vibrant flowers who are withering and dying in the savage heat... except for the white lilies and I must say I have never read more gorgeous lines about a flower than these- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -] But in still lakes and rivers, cool, content, Like starry blooms on a new firmament, White lilies float and regally abide. In vain the cruel skies their hot rays shed; The lily does not feel their brazen glare. In vain the pallid clouds refuse to share Their dews, the lily feels no thirst, no dread. Unharmed she lifts her queenly face and head; She drinks of living waters and keeps fair. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ] doesn't this extraordinary writing make you want to celebrate the world of poetry and its daughters and sons?