THE QUEEN'S RIVAL
by: Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949)
I
- UEEN GULNAAR
sat on her ivory bed,
Around her countless treasures were spread;
-
- Her chamber walls were richly inlaid
With agate, porphory, onyx and jade;
-
- The tissues that veiled her delicate breast,
Glowed with the hues of a lapwing's crest;
-
- But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied."
-
- King Feroz bent from his ebony seat:
"Is thy least desire unfulfilled, O Sweet?
-
- "Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent
To clear the sky of thy discontent."
-
- "I tire of my beauty, I tire of this
Empty splendour and shadowless bliss;
-
- "With none to envy and none gainsay,
No savour or salt hath my dream or day."
-
- Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose:
"Give me a rival, O King Feroz."
II
-
- King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier:
"Lo! ere to-morrow's dawn be here,
-
- "Send forth my messengers over the sea,
To seek seven beautiful brides for me;
-
- "Radiant of feature and regal of mien,
Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen." . . . . .
-
- Seven new moon tides at the Vesper call,
King Feroz led to Queen Gulnaar's hall
-
- A young queen eyed like the morning star:
"I bring thee a rival, O Queen Gulnaar."
-
- But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed:
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied."
-
- Seven queens shone round her ivory bed,
Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,
-
- Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,
Like seven bright petals of Beauty's flower
-
- Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose
"Where is my rival, O King Feroz?"
III
-
- When spring winds wakened the mountain floods,
And kindled the flame of the tulip buds,
-
- When bees grew loud and the days grew long,
And the peach groves thrilled to the oriole's song,
-
- Queen Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed,
Decking with jewels her exquisite head;
-
- And still she gazed in her mirror and sighed:
"O King, my heart is unsatisfied."
-
- Queen Gulnsar's daughter two spring times old,
In blue robes bordered with tassels of gold,
-
- Ran to her knee like a wildwood fay,
And plucked from her hand the mirror away.
-
- Quickly she set on her own light curls
Her mother's fillet with fringes of pearls;
-
- Quickly she turned with a child's caprice
And pressed on the mirror a swift, glad kiss.
-
- Queen Gulnaar laughed like a tremulous rose:
"Here is my rival, O King Feroz."
"The Queen's Rival" is
reprinted from The Golden Threshold. Sarojini Naidu. New
York: John Lane Company, 1916. |
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POEMS BY SAROJINI NAIDU |
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