The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights

by vol 02 (tr Malcolm C

  Give these six beauties greetings now from me.

  They were my ears, my eyes and my whole life;

  They were my food, my drink and all my joy.

  I shall never forget my union with their loveliness.

  Now that they are gone, sweet sleep has fled from me.

  Alas for the length of my distress and for my tears;

  Would that I had not been created among men.

  Eyelids like bows adorned the eyes that shot at me.

  When this letter reached the caliph, he clothed the girls in splendid robes and presented them with sixty thousand dinars. He then sent them back to their former master, who was filled with delight at their arrival, a delight which exceeded his pleasure in the money that he received. They remained with him enjoying the most pleasant and delightful of lives until they were visited by the destroyer of delights and the parter of companions.

  A story is told that one night the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, was very disturbed and filled with cares. He got up and walked around his palace until he came to a curtained room. He lifted the curtain and saw at the head of the room a couch on which there was something black that looked like a sleeping man, with one candle to his right and another to his left. While he was looking at this in surprise, he caught sight of a jar of old wine, on top of which was a glass. He was surprised to see this and asked himself how a black man like this could have such a thing, but on approaching the couch he discovered that what lay on it was a sleeping girl veiled by her own hair. He uncovered her face and found her to be like the moon on the night that it becomes full. He poured himself a glass of wine and drank it in honour of the roses in her cheeks, and then, feeling himself drawn to her, he kissed a mole on her face. She woke up and said: ‘O loyal servant of God, what is this?’ He replied: ‘A guest has come to visit you by night, to be entertained until dawn.’ ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘I swear on it by my ears and eyes.’ She then brought forward the wine and the two of them drank together, after which she took her lute, tuned the strings, and, after playing twenty-one different variations, she returned to the first and, accompanying herself, she recited these lines:

  In my heart it is the tongue of love that speaks to you,

  Telling of me I am in love with you.

  I have a witness speaking clearly of how sick I am,

  As separation from you makes my wounded heart flutter.

  I have not concealed the love which has worn me away;

  As my passion increases, so do my tears flood down.

  Before I loved you, I did not know what true love was,

  But for His creation God’s decrees are predestined.

  When she had finished these lines she said: ‘Commander of the Faithful, I have been wronged.’

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and thirty-ninth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the girl told the caliph that she had been wronged. ‘How so,’ he asked, ‘and who has wronged you?’ ‘Your son bought me for ten thousand dirhams,’ she told him, ‘intending to give me to you as a present, but your wife sent him another ten thousand dirhams and told him to hide me away from you in this apartment.’ ‘Ask me to grant you a wish,’ said the caliph and she replied: ‘I wish that you would spend tomorrow night with me.’ ‘If God wills,’ he replied, and then he left her and went off.

  The next morning he went to his council room and sent for Abu Nuwas, and when Abu Nuwas was not to be found he sent his chamberlain off to make enquiries about him. This man found Abu Nuwas in a wine shop being kept as security for the payment of a thousand dirhams that he had promised to spend on a beardless boy. When the chamberlain asked what had happened, Abu Nuwas told him about the pretty boy and the thousand dirhams. ‘Show him to me,’ said the chamberlain, ‘and if he is worth it, you are excused.’ ‘Wait,’ Abu Nuwas told him, ‘and you will see him immediately.’ While they were talking the boy came up to them wearing a white robe on top of a red one, beneath which was a black one. On seeing him Abu Nuwas, sighing deeply, recited these lines:

  He appeared in a gown of white,

  With languorous eyes and eyelids.

  I said: ‘You passed by, but gave me no greeting,

  Although a greeting would have contented me.

  Blessed be the One Who clothed your cheek with roses,

  And Who creates what He wishes with none to oppose Him.’

  ‘There is no need for argument,’ he said. ‘My Lord

  Is marvellous in His creation, without flaw.

  My robe is like my face and like my fortune,

  White upon white upon white.’

  When the boy heard this, he took off the white robe, and when Abu Nuwas saw the red one that he wore beneath it, he recited even more admiringly:

  I saw in a robe, coloured like red anemones,

  An enemy, though called a friend of mine.

  I said in wonder: ‘You are a full moon,

  But you have come in a surprising guise.

  Is it the redness of your cheeks that has clothed you,

  Or did you dye it with the blood of lovers’ hearts?’

  He said: ‘The sun gave me a shirt

  That it had only just made when it set.

  My robe, wine and the colour of my cheeks

  Are red anemones, one set above the other.’

  When Abu Nuwas finished these lines, the boy took off his red robe and was left dressed in black. When Abu Nuwas saw him, after looking at him again and again, he recited:

  He came out in a robe of black,

  Appearing to God’s servants in the dark.

  I said: ‘You passed by, giving me no greeting,

  Pleasing the envious and my enemies.

  Your robe is like your hair and like my fortune,

  Black upon black upon black.’

  When the chamberlain saw the state that Abu Nuwas was in and his infatuation for the youth, he went back and told the caliph of this. The caliph produced a thousand dirhams and told him to take them back to Abu Nuwas and to pay them over on his behalf in order to free him from the debt for which he was being held. When the chamberlain had done this, Abu Nuwas, on being freed, went to the caliph and stood in front of him. The caliph told him to recite some poetry containing the words: ‘O loyal servant of God, what is this?’ ‘To hear is to obey,’ he said…

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and fortieth night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that Abu Nuwas said: ‘To hear is to obey,’ and he then recited:

  I spent a long night of misfortune and of sleeplessness,

  My body worn away and filled with cares.

  I rose to walk through my own quarters

  And after them the women’s chambers.

  There I saw a black shape,

  Which was a white girl veiled by her own hair,

  Radiant as the full moon,

  Like the branch of a ban tree, clothed in bashfulness.

  I drank the glass she had there in one gulp;

  Then I went up and kissed her mole.

  She woke from sleep,

  Bending like a branch when the rain falls.

  Then she rose, saying:

  ‘What is this, loyal servant of our Lord?’

  I said: ‘A guest has come to visit you by night,

  Hoping to shelter here till dawn.’

  She answered joyfully: ‘My lord,

  I swear by my ears and eyes to honour you.’

  The caliph exclaimed in wonder: ‘It is as though you were there with us.’ Then he took Abu Nuwas by the hand and led him off to the girl. When Abu Nuwas caught sight of her she was wearing a blue dress with a blue veil and, being filled with admiration, he recited:

  Say to the lovely girl in the blue veil:

  ‘By God, you are my life; be kind to
me.

  When his beloved treats her lover roughly,

  Longing stirs in him and he sighs.

  By this beauty your white complexion now adorns,

  I ask you, pity the lover’s heart consumed by fire.

  Have mercy on me; aid me in my love;

  Do not accept what fools here have to say.’

  When Abu Nuwas had finished these lines, the girl presented wine to the caliph and then, taking the lute in her hand, she struck up a strain and recited these lines:

  Will you treat another lover fairly and wrong me,

  Distancing me and favouring another?

  Were there a lovers’ judge, I would complain of you

  To him and he might give a just ruling.

  If you stop me from passing by your door,

  I shall send greetings to you from afar.

  The caliph then gave orders that Abu Nuwas be plied with drink until he became drunk, after which he gave him another cup, which he drank down in one gulp. While he was still clutching it, the caliph told the girl to take it from his hand and hide it, which she did between her thighs. He then drew his sword and, standing by Abu Nuwas’s head, he pricked him with the point. Abu Nuwas woke up to find the caliph holding a naked sword and at once the fumes of drunkenness cleared from his head. ‘Recite me a poem about your cup,’ said the caliph, ‘or else I will cut off your head.’ So Abu Nuwas recited:

  My story is most wonderful,

  For the gazelle has now become a thief.

  She stole my glass of wine,

  When I had sipped the best of it.

  And then she hid it in a place

  For which my heart suffers distress.

  Out of respect, I shall not give its name,

  As the caliph has a share in it.

  ‘How did you know that?’ asked the caliph, adding: ‘But I accept your lines.’ He then ordered Abu Nuwas to be given a robe of honour and a thousand dinars, after which he went away joyfully.

  A story is told that a certain man found himself in difficulties, being deeply in debt. He left his family and his household and wandered off aimlessly until at last on his travels he reached a city with high walls and lofty buildings. He entered it in a state of humiliation and wretchedness, oppressed by hunger and worn out by his journey. When he passed by one of its streets he caught sight of a number of dignitaries advancing and he went along with them until they entered what looked like a royal palace. He went in with them and they passed through it until they came to a dignified and important-looking man seated at its far end, who appeared to be from a family of viziers and was surrounded by servants and eunuchs. When this man saw his visitors he rose to receive them courteously, but the poor man, on seeing this, was filled with doubt and bewilderment…

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and forty-first night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the poor man, on seeing this, was filled with doubt and bewilderment, owing to the splendour of the building and the servants and retainers. He hung back, bewildered, anxious and afraid for himself, until he took a seat alone and far from the others, where no one could see him.

  While he was sitting there a man led in four hunting dogs in coats of various kinds of silks and brocades, with golden collars round their necks together with silver chains. He tied up each of them in a place of its own and then went off and came back bringing them each a golden bowl full of magnificent food, which he set down for them before going out and leaving them. In the extremity of his hunger the poor man, seeing the food, wanted to approach one of the dogs and share its meal, but fear held him back. Then one of them noticed him and, realizing the state that he was in, thanks to inspiration from Almighty God, it drew back from its bowl and gestured to him. He came forward and ate his fill, after which he was about to leave when the dog indicated that he should take the bowl and the food in it for himself, pushing it over to him with its paw. He took it up, left the house and went off without being followed.

  After this he went to another city, where he sold the bowl, and with the money that he got for it he bought merchandise, which he took back to his own town and sold, so clearing his debts. He became rich, prosperous and fortunate, but after staying where he was for some time he told himself that he should go back to the city where the owner of the dog’s bowl lived and bring him a suitably handsome present, as well as repay him for the bowl that the dog had given him. So he chose an appropriate present and, taking with him the price of the bowl, he set out on his journey.

  After having travelled for a number of days and nights he reached the city and entered it to try to find the dog’s owner. He walked round the streets until he got to the house, but there was nothing there but ruin and desolation, with crows cawing mournfully. Everything had changed beyond recognition, and with a palpitating heart he recited:

  The rooms are empty of their hidden treasures,

  As hearts are empty of learning and piety.

  The valley has changed; its gazelles

  And its sand hills are not those I used to know.

  He added:

  Su‘da’s phantom came to arouse me*

  Just before dawn, in the desert, while my companions slept.

  But when I woke to look for it,

  I saw nothing but emptiness, as she herself was far away.

  Looking at the ruins and seeing clearly the action of time that had left behind only traces of what had once been there to see, he did not need to be told what had happened. Then, turning away, he caught sight of a poor man whose state would cause men to shudder and move even solid rock to pity. He accosted him and asked: ‘What has Time done to the owner of this place? Where are his shining moons and his gleaming stars, and what has happened to his mansion, of which only the walls are left?’ The poor man replied: ‘The owner is the wretched man you see before you, lamenting his fate. Don’t you know that in the words of the Apostle of God there is a lesson to be heeded and a warning for whoever will heed it? He said, may God bless him and give him peace: “It is the practice of Almighty God not to raise up anything in this world without then bringing it down.” The reason for this, if you ask for one, is that there is nothing strange in the reversals of fortune. This was my mansion, which I established, built and owned. I possessed shining moons and lived in luxury and splendour with slave girls of dazzling beauty, but then Time’s balance turned against me. It robbed me of my servants and my wealth, reducing me to this state in which I have settled and afflicting me with calamities that it had kept concealed. But there must be a reason for your question, so stop standing here in wonder and tell me what it is.’

  The visitor, who was painfully distressed, told him the whole story and added: ‘I have brought you a desirable present as well as the price of the golden bowl that I took, for it was this that turned me from a poor man to a rich one, allowing me to live in prosperity rather than poverty and removing the cares that oppressed me.’ The other shook his head, wept, groaned and lamented, before saying: ‘Man, I think you must be mad, for this is not something that a sensible person would suggest. If one of my dogs gave you a gold bowl, how could I take it back? It would be strange indeed for me to reclaim the generous gift of a dog, even if I were in the direst of straits. By God, I shall not take as much as a fingernail’s worth of anything from you, so go back where you came from, in health and safety.’ The visitor then kissed his feet and left, praising him and reciting the following lines as he took his leave:

  The people and the dogs have gone;

  Peace be on both the people and the dogs.

  God knows better.

  The story is told that in the port of Alexandria there was a wali named Husam al-Din. One night, when he was sitting in his courtroom, a soldier came to him and said: ‘Master, I want you to know that I entered the city tonight and went to such-and-such a khan, where I slept for a third of the night. When I woke I found that my s
addlebag had been slit open and a purse with a thousand dinars in it stolen.’ He had hardly finished speaking before the wali sent for his officers and told them to collect everyone in the khan and imprison them until morning. When morning came, he sent for the instruments of torture and brought in the prisoners in the presence of the soldier whose money had been stolen. He was about to torture them when a man made his way through the people and stood before him…

  Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the three hundred and forty-second night, SHE CONTINUED:

  I have heard, O fortunate king, that the wali was about to torture them when a man made his way through the people and stood before him and the soldier.

  ‘Emir,’ said this man, ‘let all these people go. They are being treated unjustly, for it was I who took the soldier’s money and here is the purse that I took from his saddlebag.’ He took the purse from his sleeve and put it down before the wali and the soldier. ‘Take your money away with you,’ the wali told the soldier, ‘for you no longer have any case against these others.’ Everyone there started to praise and bless the man who had confessed, who then said: ‘It was not a clever trick on my part, emir, to come here myself with the purse. The cleverness would be to take it from the soldier a second time.’ The wali asked him how he had stolen it in the first place and he said: ‘I was standing in the market of the money-changers in Cairo when I saw the soldier get this gold from one of them and put it in a purse. I followed him from one alley to another but I could find no way to get the purse. He then went off on a journey, but although I followed him from town to town, and tried to play tricks on him during his travels, I still couldn’t get my hands on the gold. Then, when he arrived here, I followed him into the khan and settled down beside him, watching him until he fell asleep. When I heard him snoring, I edged near him little by little and then I used this knife to cut open his saddlebag, after which I took the purse. This is how I did it.’