Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile By H. D. Rawnsley |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. | VI STREET CRIES |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXII. |
| LXIV. |
 | Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile |  |
11
VI STREET CRIES
(IN CAIRO)
‘Ya semeet, yâ, yâ semeet,’
Shrill it echoes down the street,
Buy a cake, O merchant, eat!
Shrill it echoes down the street,
Buy a cake, O merchant, eat!
‘Oranges, O gentleman!
Sweet as honey ever ran
Are the Benha burtukan.’
Sweet as honey ever ran
Are the Benha burtukan.’
‘Here is sugar for a nail,
Iron scraps I seek by sale,
Halâwee will never fail,’
Iron scraps I seek by sale,
Halâwee will never fail,’
‘Taste my green pistachios,
From the prophet's blood, God knows,
Bloomed the thorn into a rose.’
From the prophet's blood, God knows,
Bloomed the thorn into a rose.’
‘Ya effendi, you may smile,
But my lupins they beguile,—
Little children of the Nile!’
But my lupins they beguile,—
Little children of the Nile!’
12
‘Roasted pips! Abdalláwee!
Taste my melon-pips, and ye
Never shall in trouble be.’
Taste my melon-pips, and ye
Never shall in trouble be.’
‘Scent from Paradise in showers!
Maidens, fit for bridal bowers,
Here are fragrant henna flowers!’
Maidens, fit for bridal bowers,
Here are fragrant henna flowers!’
‘God will make my lemons light,
Allah send me sup and bite,
Legs, O Kadi! Left and Right!’
Allah send me sup and bite,
Legs, O Kadi! Left and Right!’
So I hear above the din,
Of the Sûk-en-Nahhâsîn,
Words that honest bread would win.
Of the Sûk-en-Nahhâsîn,
Words that honest bread would win.
But where all is noise and heat,
In the Muski's motley street,
Cups that clink, with prayer entreat
In the Muski's motley street,
Cups that clink, with prayer entreat
Saying, ‘Think, ye thirsty, think
Of the hand whose cup I clink,
Him whose bounty gives ye drink.’
Of the hand whose cup I clink,
Him whose bounty gives ye drink.’
And in thought as on I stroll,
Grateful for the water's dole,
What if Heaven should touch my soul?
Grateful for the water's dole,
What if Heaven should touch my soul?
So that with his leathern can,
When the greasy-goat-skin man
Butt against my body ran,
When the greasy-goat-skin man
Butt against my body ran,
13
I must, to his heart's surprise,
Give a ‘kirsh’ to him who cries
‘My poor pay is Paradise.’
Give a ‘kirsh’ to him who cries
‘My poor pay is Paradise.’
| Idylls and Lyrics of The Nile | |