VICTOR HUGO'S ORIENTALES.*

I.

SARA'S BATH.

Le soleil et les vents, dans ces bocages sombres,

Des feuilles sur son front faisaient flotter les ombres.-ALFRED DE VIGNY.

In a swinging hammock lying,
Lightly flying,

Sara, lovely indolent,

O'er a fountain's crystal wave,
There to lave

Her young beauty, see her bent.

As she leans, so sweet and soft,
Flitting oft,

O'er the mirror, to and fro,
Seems that airy floating bather
Like a feather

From some sea-gull's wing of snow.

Every time the frail boat laden
With the maiden

Skims the water in its flight,
Starting from its trembling sheen,
Swift are seen

A white foot and neck so white.

As that sweet foot's timid tips
Quick she dips,

Passing, in the rippling pool,
(Blush, oh snowiest ivory!)
Frolic she

Laughs to feel the pleasant cool.

The present Translations, selected from the "Orientales" of Hugo, are the result of an attempt to ascertain if any of the grace and beauty of the originals could be preserved in an English version exactly reproducing their peculiar measures and combinations of rhyme. In some of his poems Hugo has undoubtedly carried to an extreme length his fantastic and daring extravagance of rhyme, in lines where he denies to his muse any freer elbow-room than may be found within the limits of a single syllable; sometimes, however, when not pushed to excess, there is an exquisite felicity in his light and dancing measures-as in "Sara la Baigneuse," which is here very imperfectly rendered. If any reader should so far misunderstand the principles of a true purity and delicacy of taste, as to find fault with the innocent and statuesque simplicity of the beautiful tableau vivant which it presents, he is referred to the story of Musidora's bath in Thompson's Seasons. In the poem of the "Djinns," the ascending and descending scale of the measure corresponds with singular effect to the meaning which it aims at once to express and to illustrate. In these translations (which constituted the amusement of a few travelling hours, with no other companionship than a pencil and a pocket volume) a certain degree of freedom is of course sometimes necessary, to preserve any portion of the spirit of the originals; though an unexpected degree of closeness has generally been found possible. The superior facilities of rhyme afforded by the French (being so much more a language of terminations than the English), will perhaps be best appreciated by those readers who may feel inclined to try the same experiment.

And I heard a loud voice.-REVELATIONS.

Alone beside the waves, beneath the stars, I stood;
On the blue sky no cloud, no sail on the blue flood;

And as beyond this world pierced far my spirit's gaze, The woods, the mounts, and all that glorious nature round, Meseeméd did invoke, in dimly murmuring sound,

The ocean waves, the starry blaze.

And all the countless stars that gild the firmament,
Loud, low, in harmony of myriad voices blent,

Answered, as, bending low, their flaming crowns adored:
And all the azure waves that know nor chain nor rest,
Answered, as, bending low, knelt every foaming crest:
It is the Lord! our God and Lord!

III.

SULTAN ACHMET.

Oh! suffer me, lovely maiden, to enfold my neck within thy arms.—Hafız.

To Juana ever gay,

Sultan Achmet spake one day :

Lo, the realms that kneel to own
Homage to my sword and crown-
All I'd freely cast away,

Maiden dear, for thee alone.

Be a Christian, noble King!
For it were a grievous thing

Love to seek and find too well
In the arms of infidel.

Spain with cry of shame would ring,
If I thus from honor fell.

By those pearls whose happy chain,
Oh, my gentle sovereign,
Clasps thy neck of ivory,
Aught thou willest I will be,
If that necklace pure of stain
Thou wilt give for rosary.

IV.

THE DJINNS.

E come i gru van cantando lor lai,
Facendo in aer di se lunga riga;
Cosi vid' io venir traendo guai

Ombre portate d'alla detta briga.-DANTE.

Town, tower,

Shore, deep,
Where lower

Cliffs steep.
Waves grey
Where play
Winds gay-
All sleep.

Hark, a sound,
Far and slight,
Breathes around
On the night!
High and higher,
Nigh and nigher,
Like a fire

Roaring bright.

Now on 'tis sweeping
With rattling beat;
Like dwarf imp leaping

In gallop fleet:

He flies, he prances,
In frolic fancies,
On wave-crest dances
With pattering feet.

Hark, the rising swell,
With each nearer burst;
Like the toll of bell
Of a convent curst;
Like the billowy roar
On a storm-lash'd shore,
Now hush'd-now once more
Madd'ning to its worst.

Oh God! the deadly sound
Of the Djinns' fearful cry!
Quick, 'neath the spiral round
Of the deep staircase fly!
See, see our lamplight fade!
And of the balustrade
Mounts, mounts the circling shade
Up to the ceiling high.

'Tis the Djinns' wild streaming swarm
Whistling in their tempest flight,
Snap the tall yews 'neath the storm,
Like a pine flame crackling bright.
Swift and heavy, lo, their crowd
Through the heavens rushing loud,
Like a livid thunder cloud
With its bolt of fiery might.

Ha! they are on us, close without!
Shut tight the shelter where we lie!
With hideous din the monster rout,
Dragon and vampire, fill the sky!
The loosened rafter overhead
Trembles and bends like quivering reed,
Shakes the old door with shuddering dread,
As from its rusty hinge 'twould fly!

Wild cries of hell! voices that howl and shriek!
The horrid swarm before the tempest tossed,
Oh heaven! descends my lowly roof to seek;
Bends the strong wall beneath the furious host.
Totters the house, as though, like dry leaf shorn
From autumn bough and on the mad blast borne,
Up from its deep foundations it were torn
To join the stormy whirl-ah! all is lost!

Oh Prophet, if thy hand but now
Save from these foul and hellish things,
A pilgrim at thy shrine I'll bow,

Laden with pious offerings.
Bid their hot breath its fiery rain

Stream on my faithful door in vain,

Vainly upon my blackened pane,

Grate the fierce claws of their dark wings!

They have passed!--and their wild legion

Cease to thunder at my door ;
Fleeting through night's rayless region,
Hither they return no more.