Love Is Like A Dizziness

O, love, love, love!
Love is like a dizziness;
It winna let a puir body
Gang about his biziness!

by James Hogg.

Love.
So many different ways
to have been in love.


The maidservants
Trying to take a peep
Knock down the screen!

by Nozawa Bonchō.

Book Of Love - Love's Torments

LOVE's torments sought a place of rest,
Where all might drear and lonely be;
They found ere long my desert breast,
And nestled in its vacancy.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

A Marriage Ring

THE ring, so worn as you behold,
So thin, so pale, is yet of gold:
The passion such it was to prove--
Worn with life's care, love yet was love.

by George Crabbe.

As Daphne did from tuneful Phoebus fly,
Still must his Sons expect an equal Fate!
For cruel Beauty doom'd in vain to sigh,
And find their Tenderness repaid with Hate.

by Samuel Boyse.

Your Love Has Made Me Dance All Over

Your love has made me dance all over.
Falling in love with you
Was supping a cup of poison.
Come, my healer, it's my final hour.
Your love has made me dance all over.

by Bulleh Shah.

God, whose love and joy are present everywhere

God, whose love and joy are present everywhere,
Can't come to visit you unless you aren't there.

English version by Gabriel Rosenstock
Original Language German

by Angelus Silesius.

I Have Got Lost In The City Of Love

I have got lost in the city of love,
I am being cleansed,
withdrawing myself from my head,
hands and feet.
I have got rid of my ego, and have attained my goal.
Thus it has all ended well.
O Bullah, the Lord pervades both the worlds;
None now appears a stranger to me.

by Bulleh Shah.

Love’s Auction

Could pretty Jane be put to sale,
I'd have no auctioneer in vogue;
Not Christie should her charms detail,
But Truth should dress the catalogue.
Within the leaves no falsehood slid;
No grace hitch'd in which Jane hath not.
Then all the world would come and bid;
But only Love should buy the lot.

by John Kenyon.

FLOW on, ye lays so loved, so fair,

On to Oblivion's ocean flow!
May no rapt boy recall you e'er,

No maiden in her beauty's glow!

My love alone was then your theme,

But now she scorns my passion true.
Ye were but written in the stream;

As it flows on, then, flow ye too!

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

This Love - O Bulleh - Tormenting, Unique

This love - O Bulleh - tormenting, unique
the face of the idol akin to the divine in heaven
can there be divinity without my beloved
even if I have to contest the scriptures
this love is fearless, marches to death in defiance
dances and whirls like a street prostitute,
to win a single smile from the beloved

by Bulleh Shah.

Book Of Suleika - Love For Love

LOVE for love, and moments sweet,

Lips returning kiss for kiss,
Word for word, and eyes that meet;

Breath for breath, and bliss for bliss.
Thus at eve, and thus the morrow!

Yet thou feeblest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Joseph's graces borrow,

All thy beauty I'd repay!

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

There Goes My Love!

There goes my Love!
What do I do, my Lord?

He's already made a move
His staying back is hard
With his wayfarers all packed
What do I do, my Lord?

My heart is afire
Like half-backed shard
What do I do, my Lord?

My love having gone
I am in midstream hauled
Wwhat do I do, my Lord?

by Bulleh Shah.

Song Intended To Have Been Sung In 'she Stoops To Conquer'

AH me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me:
He, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.

But I will rally, and combat the ruiner:
Not a look, not a smile shall my passion discover:
She that gives all to the false one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, loses a lover.

by Oliver Goldsmith.

EV'RY youth for love's sweet portion sighs,

Ev'ry maiden sighs to win man's love;
Why, alas! should bitter pain arise

From the noblest passion that we prove?

Thou, kind soul, bewailest, lov'st him well,

From disgrace his memory's saved by thee;
Lo, his spirit signs from out its cell:

BE A MAN, NOR SEEK TO FOLLOW ME.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Love Of A Nation

By blood, we are immersed in love of you.
The youth lose their heads for your sake.
I come to you and my heart finds rest.
Away from you, grief clings to my heart like a snake.
I forget the throne of Delhi
when I remember the mountain tops of my Afghan land.
If I must choose between the world and you,
I shall not hesitate to claim your barren deserts as my own.

by Ahmad Shah Durrani.

I'M Your Slave, You Are My Love

I'm your slave, you are my love,
I turn to you, my beloved,
Save me now or let me perish,
Take and choose the best solution,
I lament and am in torment,
Heavy on me lies this planet,
I to perish would prefer
And save myself from love's affliction
Yet in spite of all our anguish,
Will our lovers not address us,
We are slaves in desolation,
Let them fetch us and despatch us.

by Nezim Frakulla.

Book Of Love - The Types

LIST, and in memory bear
These six fond loving pair.
Love, when aroused, kept true
Rustan and Rad!
Strangers approach from far
Joseph and Suleika;
Love, void of hope, is in
Ferhad and Schirin.
Born for each other are
Medschnun and Lily;
Loving, though old and grey,
Dschemil saw Boteinah.
Love's sweet caprice anon,
Brown maid and Solomon!
If thou dost mark them well,
Stronger thy love will swell.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Book Of Love - One More Pair

LOVE is indeed a glorious prize!
What fairer guerdon meets our eyes?--
Though neither wealth nor power are thine,
A very hero thou dost shine.
As of the prophet, they will tell,
Wamik and Asia's tale as well.--
They'll tell not of them,--they'll but give
Their names, which now are all that live.
The deeds they did, the toils they proved
No mortal knows! But that they loved
This know we. Here's the story true
Of Wamik and of Asia too.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

He Who Is Stricken By Love

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.

He who wears the garb of Love
Gets blessings from above.

Soon as he drinks from this cup
No questions and no answers remain.

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.

He who has the Beloved in his heart,
He is fulfilled with his Love.
No need he has for formality,
He just enjoys his ecstasy.

He who is stricken by Love
Sings and dances out of tune.

by Bulleh Shah.

The Arrow Of Love

I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do ?
I can neither live, nor can I die.
Listen ye to my ceaseless outpourings,
I have peace neither by night, nor by day.
I cannot do without my Beloved even for a moment.
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do ?
The fire of separation is unceasing !
Let someone take care of my love.
How can I be saved without seeing him?
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do?

by Bulleh Shah.

I Have Been Pierced By The Arrow Of Love

I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do?
I can neither live, nor can I die.
Listen ye to my ceaseless outpourings,
I have peace neither by night, nor by day.
I cannot do without my
Beloved even for a moment.
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do?
The fire of separation is unceasing!
Let someone take care of my love.
How can I be saved without seeing him?
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do?

by Bulleh Shah.

I Love This White And Slender Body

I Love this white and slender body,
These limbs that answer Love's caresses,
Passionate eyes, and forehead covered
With heavy waves of thick, black tresses.

You are the very one I've searched for
In many lands, in every weather.
You are my sort; you understand me;
As equals we can talk together.

In me you've found the man you care for.
And, for a while, you'll richly pay me
With kindness, kisses and endearments--
And then, as usual, you'll betray me.

by Heinrich Heine.

THROUGH rain, through snow,
Through tempest go!
'Mongst streaming caves,
O'er misty waves,
On, on! still on!
Peace, rest have flown!

Sooner through sadness

I'd wish to be slain,
Than all the gladness

Of life to sustain
All the fond yearning

That heart feels for heart,
Only seems burning

To make them both smart.

How shall I fly?
Forestwards hie?
Vain were all strife!
Bright crown of life.
Turbulent bliss,--
Love, thou art this!

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Fair Iris I Love And Hourly I Die

Fair Iris I love and hourly I die,
But not for a lip nor a languishing eye:
She's fickle and false, and there I agree;
For I am as false and as fickle as she:
We neither believe what either can say;
And, neither believing, we neither betray.

'Tis civil to swear and say things, of course;
We mean not the taking for better or worse.
When present we love, when absent agree;
I think not of Iris, nor Iris of me:
The legend of love no couple can find
So easy to part, or so equally join'd.

by John Dryden.

I lost the love of heaven above,
I spurned the lust of earth below,
I felt the sweets of fancied love
And hell itself my only foe.

I lost earth's joys but felt the glow
Of heaven's flame abound in me
Till loveliness and I did grow
The bard of immortality.

I loved but woman fell away
I hid me from her faded fame,
I snatched the sun's eternal ray
And wrote till earth was but a name

In every language upon earth,
On every shore, o'er every sea,
I give my name immortal birth
And kept my spirit with the free.

by John Clare.

Acis And Galatea

Air.
Love in her eyes sits playing,
And sheds delicious death;
Love on her lips is straying,
And warbling in her breath;
Love on her breast sits panting,
And swells with soft desire;
Nor grace nor charm is wanting
To set the heart on fire.

Air.
O ruddier than the cherry!
O sweeter than the berry!
O Nymph more bright
Than moonshine night,
Like kidlings blithe and merry!

Ripe as the melting cluster!
No lily has such lustre;
Yet hard to tame
As raging flame,
And fierce as storms that bluster.

by John Gay.

Locks of brown, still bind your captive
In the circle of her face!
I, beloved sinuous tresses,
Naught possess that's worth your grace-

But a heart whose love enduring
Swells in youthful fervor yet:
Snow and mists envelop Etna,
Making men the fire forget.

Yonder mountain's pride so stately
Thou dost shame like dawn's red glow;
And its spell once more bids Hatem
Thrill of spring and summer know.

Once more fill the glass, the flagon!
Let me drink to my desire.
If she find a heap of ashes,
Say, 'He perished in her fire!'

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

On The Reverend Mr. Love, In The Cathedral At Bristol

When worthless grandeur fills th' embellish'd urn,
No poignant grief attends the sable bier;
But when distinguish'd excellence we mourn,
Deep is the sorrow, genuine is the tear.
Stranger! should'st thou approach this awful shrine,
The merits of the honour'd dead to seek;
The friend, the son, the Christian, the divine,
Let those who knew him, those who lov'd him, speak.

O let him in some pause of anguish say,
What zeal inflam'd, what faith enlarg'd his breast;
How glad th' unfetter'd spirit wing'd its way
From earth to heav'n, from blessing to be blest!

by Hannah More.

AMOR, not the child, the youthful lover of Psyche,
Look'd round Olympus one day, boldly, to triumph inured;
There he espied a goddess, the fairest amongst the immortals,--
Venus Urania she,--straight was his passion inflamed.
Even the holy one powerless proved, alas! 'gainst his wooing,--
Tightly embraced in his arm, held her the daring one fast.
Then from their union arose a new, a more beauteous Amor,
Who from his father his wit, grace from his mother derives.
Ever thou'lt find him join'd in the kindly Muses' communion,
And his charm-laden bolt foundeth the love of the arts.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Gently stir and blow the fire,
Lay the mutton down to roast,
Dress it quickly, I desire,
In the dripping put a toast,
That I hunger may remove --
Mutton is the meat I love.
On the dresser see it lie;
Oh, the charming white and red;
Finer meat ne'er met the eye,
On the sweetest grass it fed:
Let the jack go swiftly round,
Let me have it nice and brown'd.
On the table spread the cloth,
Let the knives be sharp and clean,
Pickles get and salad both,
Let them each be fresh and green.
With small beer, good ale and wine,
Oh ye gods! how I shall dine.

by Jonathan Swift.

Book Of Suleika - Suleika's Love

ONCE, methought, in the night hours cold,

That I saw the moon in my sleep;
But as soon as I waken'd, behold

Unawares rose the sun from the deep.

THAT Suleika's love was so strong

For Joseph, need cause no surprise;

He was young, youth pleaseth the eyes,--

He was fair, they say, beyond measure

Fair was she, and so great was their pleasure.
But that thou, who awaitedst me long,
Youthful glances of fire dost throw me,
Soon wilt bless me, thy love now dost show me,
This shall my joyous numbers proclaim,
Thee I for ever Suleika shall name.

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

Sonnet: As From The Darkening Gloom A Silver Dove

As from the darkening gloom a silver dove
Upsoars, and darts into the eastern light,
On pinions that nought moves but pure delight,
So fled thy soul into the realms above,
Regions of peace and everlasting love;
Where happy spirits, crown'd with circlets bright
Of starry beam, and gloriously bedight,
Taste the high joy none but the blest can prove.
There thou or joinest the immortal quire
In melodies that even heaven fair
Fill with superior bliss, or, at desire,
Of the omnipotent Father, cleav'st the air
On holy message sent -- What pleasure's higher?
Wherefore does any grief our joy impair?

by John Keats.

Song From Marriage-A-La-Mode

Why should a foolish marriage vow,
Which long ago was made,
Oblige us to each other now,
When passion is decayed?
We loved, and we loved, as long as we could,
Till our love was loved out in us both;
But our marriage is dead when the pleasure is fled:
'Twas pleasure first made it an oath.

If I have pleasures for a friend,
And farther love in store,
What wrong has he whose joys did end,
And who could give no more?
'Tis a madness that he should be jealous of me,
Or that I should bar him of another;
For all we can gain is to give ourselves pain,
When neither can hinder the other.

by John Dryden.

Sonnet: Oh! How I Love, On A Fair Summer's Eve

Oh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve,
When streams of light pour down the golden west,
And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds, far -- far away to leave
All meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
From little cares; to find, with easy quest,
A fragrant wild, with Nature's beauty drest,
And there into delight my soul deceive.
There warm my breast with patriotic lore,
Musing on Milton's fate -- on Sydney's bier --
Till their stern forms before my mind arise:
Perhaps on wing of Poesy upsoar,
Full often dropping a delicious tear,
When some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes.

by John Keats.

Love in Fantastique Triumph satt,
Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow'd,
For whom Fresh pains he did create,
And strange Tryanic power he show'd;
From thy Bright Eyes he took his fire,
Which round about, in sport he hurl'd;
But 'twas from mine he took desire,
Enough to undo the Amorous World.
From me he took his sighs and tears,
From thee his Pride and Crueltie;
From me his Languishments and Feares,
And every Killing Dart from thee;
Thus thou and I, the God have arm'd,
And sett him up a Deity;
But my poor Heart alone is harm'd,
Whilst thine the Victor is, and free.

by Aphra Behn.

On The Conversion Of A Sister

'Tis the voice of my sister at home,
Resign'd to the treasures above,
Inviting the strangers to come,
And feast at the banquet of love.

'Tis a spirit cut loose from its chain,
'Tis the voice of a culprit forgiven,
Restored from a prison of pain,
With th' sound of a concert from heaven.

'Tis a beam from the regions of light,
A touch of beatific fire;
A spirit exulting for flight,
With a strong and impatient desire.

'Tis a drop from the ocean of love,
A foretaste of pleasures to come,
Distill'd from the fountain above,
The joy which awaits her at home.

by George Moses Horton.

Song From The Spanish Of Iglesias

Alexis calls me cruel;
The rifted crags that hold
The gathered ice of winter,
He says, are not more cold.

When even the very blossoms
Around the fountain's brim,
And forest walks, can witness
The love I bear to him.

I would that I could utter
My feelings without shame;
And tell him how I love him,
Nor wrong my virgin fame.

Alas! to seize the moment
When heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.

If man comes not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage;
They cannot seek his hand.

by William Cullen Bryant.

Hide Not Behind The Veil, My Love

Hide not behind the veil, my love,
I long to have a glimpse of you.

Without my love, I feel like mad,
People around me laugh at me.
He should come and cheer me up,
This alone remains my plea,

Hide not behind the veil, my love,
I long to have a glimpse of you.

Your slave is being auctioned free
Come my love and rescue me
No longer can I perch elsewhere
I am the Bulbul of your tree

Hide not behind the veil, my love,
I long to have a glimpse of you.

Bulleh! Who is He?
A queer type friend!
He has the Quran in His hand and
And in the same the holy thread

by Bulleh Shah.

The Lord of Life shakes off his drowsihed,
And 'gins to sprinkle on the earth below
Those rays that from his shaken locks do flow;
Meantime, by truant love of rambling led,
I turn my back on thy detested walls,
Proud city! and thy sons I leave behind,
A sordid, selfish, money-getting kind;
Brute things, who shut their ears when Freedom calls.
I pass not thee so lightly, well-known spire,
That mindest me of many a pleasure gone,
Of merrier days, of love and Islington;
Kindling afresh the flames of past desire.
And I shall muse on thee slow journeying on
To the green plains of pleasant Hertfordshire.

1795.

by Charles Lamb.