A Rustic Song Poem by Ali Mahmoud Taha

When the water caresses the shade of the tree,
And the clouds court the light of the moon,
And the birds send forth their song
To re-echo between dew and blossom;
And the ringdove laments her passion,
Cooing to her love and breeze pass over the Nile,
Kissing every passing sail;
And the earth brings forth from its night
Beauties of manifold shape;
And when a willow stands in the darkness,
Hidden as if unknown to night
There in its shade I take my place,
With heart distraught and saddened gaze.
I let my eyes wander through the skies,
My head downcast and sunk in thought.
Then, I see your face beneath the palm tree,
And by the river I hear your voice,
Until darkness is tired of my loneliness,
And sadness complains of boredom;
Until creation wonders at my bewilderment,
And the morningstar takes pity on me;
And I go on my way, to search again in hope
For our encounter at the longed-for hour.