I Arise And Go Down To The River

I arise and go down to the River, and currents that come from the sea,

Still fresh with the salt of the ocean, are lovely and precious to me,

The waters are silver and silent, except where the kingfisher dips,

Or the ripples wash off from my shoulder the reddening stain of thy lips.

Two things make my joy at this moment: thy gold-coloured beauty by night,

And the delicate charm of the River, all pale in the day-breaking light,

So cool are the waters’ caresses. Ah, which is the lovelier,–this?

Or the fire that it kindles at midnight, beneath the soft glow of thy kiss?

Ah, Love has a mighty dominion, he forges with passionate breath

The links which stretch out to the Future, with forces of life and of death,

But great is the charm of the River, so soft is the sigh of the reeds,

They give me, long sleepless from passion, the peace that my weariness needs.

I float on the breast of my River, and startle the birds on the edge,

To land on a newly found island, a boat that is caught in the sedge,

The rays of the sun are still level, not yet has the heat of the day

Deflowered the mists of the morning, that linger in delicate grey.

What land was his dwelling whose fancy first gave unto Paradise birth?

He never had swum in my River, or else he had fixed it on earth!

Oh, grace of the palm-tree reflections, Oh, sense of the wind from the sea!

Oh, divine and serene exultation of one who is lonely and free!

Ah, delicate breezes of daybreak, so scentless, refreshing and free!

And yet–had my midnight been lonely you had been less lovely to me.

This coolness comes laden with solace, because I am hot from the fire,

As often devotion to virtue arises from sated desire.

_Gautama came forth from his Palace; he felt the night wind on his face,_

_He loathed, as he left, the embraces, the softness and scent of the place,_

_But, ah, if his night had been loveless, with no one to solace his need,_

_He never had written that sermon which men so devotedly read._

Ah, River, thy gentle persuasion! I doubt if I seek any more

The beauty that hurts me and holds me beneath the low roof on the shore.

I loved thee, ay, loved–for a season, but thou, was it love or desire,

The glow of the Sun in his glory, or only the heat of a fire?

I think not that thou wilt regret me, for thou art too joyous and fair,

So many are keen to caress thee, thy passionate midnights to share.

Thou wilt not have time to remember, before a new love-knot is tied,

The stranger who loved thee and left thee, who drifted away on the tide.

Two things I have found that are lovely, though most things are sullen and grey;

One: Peace–but what mortal has found him; and Passion–but when would he stay?

So I shall return to my River, and floating at ease on its breast,

Shall find, what Love never has given–a sense of most infinite rest.

When the years have gone by and departed, what thought shall I keep of this land?

A curl of thy waist-reaching-tresses? a flower received from thy hand?

Nay, if I can fathom the future, I fancy my relic will be

Some shell, my beloved one, the River, has stol’n from the store of the sea.

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Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Verses To Collector Mitchell : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Jockey’s Taen The Parting Kiss: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Mally’s Meek, Mally’s Sweet: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Crowdie Ever Mair: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: News, Lassies, News: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Wren’s Nest: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Leezie Lindsay: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Inscription: Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems, presented to the Lady whom, in so many fictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung under the name of-“Chloris.” by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O That’s The Lassie O’ My Heart : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Song Inscribed To Alexander Cunningham: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O Bonie Was Yon Rosy Brier: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: This Is No My Ain Lassie: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Braw Wooer: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Why, Why Tell The Lover: Fragment, by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Near: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Their Groves O’Sweet Myrtle : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Twas Na Her Bonie Blue E’e: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Mark Yonder Pomp Of Costly Fashion: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: How Cruel Are The Parents: Altered from an old English song. tune-“John Anderson, my jo.” by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: On Chloris Being Ill: by Robert Burns

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Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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