The Indian Serenade Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Indian Serenade
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me--who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream--
The champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!
O lift me from the grass!
die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;--
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.
A masterpiece by the master poet, Shelley the Romantic is at his best. Extremely sensuous and sonorous, the poem lingers within you even after you have left the page.
Powerful melody and rhythm that takes one into an atmosphere of dreams and awakening in love. Great poem! RoseAnn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/8/2024 8:51:59 AM # 1.0.0
A very powerfully passionate love poem!