Standing in a cold room, the speaker is suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of jasmines. That fragrance belongs to another place and time — night jasmines heavy with dew before dawn. It brings with it a vision: a face in the mirror, smiling for a moment, then disappearing and leaving behind the trace of a tear. The face is dear because of parting. Outside, this world is hostile to such tenderness: wet snow, bare trees thrashing, and a howling wind. Jasmines cannot bloom here. Yet the scent persists, as if it has crossed the distance from a cottage door where the flowers grow thick. What results is a mood of aching nostalgia and ghostly intimacy: the speaker feels a loved one’s presence through fragrance alone, even as the external world denies that presence any place to live.
Jasmines — Summary
Your scent is in the room. Swiftly it overwhelms and conquers me! Jasmines, night jasmines, perfect of perfume, Heavy with dew before the dawn of day! Your face was in the mirror. I could see You smile and vanish suddenly away, Leaving behind the vestige of a tear. Sad suffering face, from parting grown so dear! Night jasmines cannot bloom in this cold place; Without the street is wet and weird with snow; The cold nude trees are tossing to and fro; Too stormy is the night for your fond face; For your low voice too loud the wind’s mad roar. But oh, your scent is here--jasmines that grow Luxuriant, clustered round your cottage door!