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: To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady’s Bonnet, At Church by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To Mr. M’Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan: In answer to an obliging Letter he sent in the commencement of my poetic career. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: To John Kennedy, Dumfries House: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Inventory: In answer to a mandate by the Surveyor of the Taxes by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Unco Guid, Or The Rigidly Righteous: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Here’s His Health In Water : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Rantin’ Dog, The Daddie O’t: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Vision: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To James Smith: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Ordination : For sense they little owe to frugal Heav’n- To please the mob, they hide the little giv’n. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Author’s Earnest Cry And Prayer: To the Right Honourable and Honourable Scotch Representatives in the House of Commons. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Twa Dogs: A Tale by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare, Maggie: On giving her the accustomed ripp of corn to hansel in the New Year. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Scotch Drink : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Address To The Deil: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Cotter’s Saturday Night: Inscribed to R. Aiken, Esq., of Ayr. by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Merry Hae I Been Teethin A Heckle: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: For A’ That: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Adam Armour’s Prayer: by Robert Burns

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