Last Night Poem by Emdad Shah Emdad

by Emdad Shah

Thou came last night in guise divine and bright
Thou came last night in silence of the night
With owl-like eyes uplifted, calling low
Through worlds of love and passion's tender glow
From heaven to heaven thou touchedst all the height.

I thought our bond was but of yesterday
Yet didst thou crown it with a goddess' sway
While light-explosions flashed on every side
And fireflies danced in clusters far and wide
On leaves and flowers and in thy tresses gay
A scattered radiance fell and seemed to stay.

In Nature's secret court we wandered, lonely twain
Ere dawn should break, we must choose path again
The winter wind made shivering woods awake
I know this quietness is for dreaming's sake
We have scant time, as village nights decree
Where waiting and mute silence sow true amity.

For this brief hour of love how long I've sighed
Yet miles upon our journey still abide
Our spoken words were scant as breath of breeze
That whispers secrets to the forest trees
The darkness of the night, the misty screen
Knows more of us than what our hands have seen.

Above the trees the silver moon keeps wake
I know no sleeper's rest this frost shall break
We walked through dimness in that slumbering land
Where weary crickets piped on either hand
And mist crept o'er the river far away
While distant night usurped the fading day.

Then, having crossed a rustic wooden bridge
Thou stoodst alone upon the quiet ridge
Like to the moon amid the lonely skies
While night-winds kissed thy brow and gentle eyes
The forest leaves had sunk in slumber deep
And silence was the language ours to keep
Two kindred hands met in a warm embrace
With distant longings fluttering in the place.

Beneath our feet dry autumn leaves did stir
In ancient stillness nothing would deter
The branches spun a web across the sky
Where silver moonlight wove its witchery
I crossed familiar fields and paths of old
And broke unwritten oaths of iron mold.

We spoke no word, nor felt a breathless haste
Two wandering shadows in a sleeping waste
When thy cold fingers rested in my hand
It seemed some primal voice of ancient land
Did call me forth—this night, this forest gloom
Where silent layers hide our quiet doom.

I know not if a hundred springs were there
Nor what sweet guise the moonlight chanced to wear
Yet thou didst know me, and with effortless grace
Didst pour thy heart out in that crowded place.

No wandering fragrance filled the daily air
No planted garden grew to blossom there
Yet such rich scent upon my senses fell
It seemed the earth released her hidden spell.

My bounden senses dropped their heavy veil
As from a bowl of water, pure and pale
I knew each blossom that the meadows bear
The very soul of every flower was there
Victor o'er every bloom beneath the sky—
Only a cheating queen, alas, wast thou and I.

The wandering breeze is whispering in the ear: 'Know ye the secret of this midnight here? '
Thy quiet glance outshines the starry light
While frosty earth doth tremble in the night.

As when a dark lad views a dark maid's pride
And ploughman, farmer, toiler stand beside—
The famished, hungry, dark and lowly boy
Unnoticed in his solitary joy
Till some fair maiden shares his humble bowl
And stills her hunger, soothing up his soul—
Was this a goddess, or some mocking role?

Yet is this earth a transitory floor— Which saw'st thou: pride intense, or goddess-lore?
Or was it simply maiden foes of yore?