Layli and Majnun

  And when she’d caught her breath, again she sighed

  And sobbed repeatedly and wildly cried,

  Mourning her love and yours with every breath

  And grieving for your noble father’s death,

  Grieving that he had gone, but grieving too

  That you had no one left to comfort you.

  Then, as her sobbing lessened, she addressed me;

  Determinedly, and earnestly, she pressed me

  To help her; this is what she said: ‘My lord,

  You seem like someone who will keep his word;

  You see the state I’m in; look there, that tent . . .’

  (And here she pointed to the one she meant)

  ‘Is mine; give me a day, then come to me,

  Pass by my tent as if fortuitously,

  I’ll write a letter—somehow, undetected

  I’ll pass it to you so we’re not suspected;

  God speed you, then, and see the letter ends

  In no one else’s hands but my dear friend’s.’

  She stood and left; she’d nothing more to say

  And I continued on my previous way.

  *

  “So yesterday I wandered past her tent

  As if at random and by accident;

  Dressed in dark blue,109 I saw her watching me . . .

  She slipped the letter to me secretly,

  The wax that sealed it seemed an emblem of

  Her inward seal of sorrow and of love.”

  At that, he took the letter from his cloak

  And humbly held and kissed it as he spoke:

  Majnun stared wildly, grabbed it, whirled around

  A hundred times and sprawled upon the ground;

  Losing control as he held on to it,

  Stumbling like someone in a drunken fit;

  He held the letter as he fell, and then

  Turned to it when his wits returned again.

  Majnun Reads Layli’s Letter

  Eager to read it once the seal was broken,

  Impatiently he tore the letter open

  And read, “In His name Whose divine decree

  Preserves the soul as wisdom’s sanctuary,

  Whose knowledge is beyond man’s furthest reach,

  Who knows the speech of those who have no speech,

  The King Whose will apportions day and night,

  Who feeds the fishes and the birds in flight,

  Who lights the stars and heavens, Who designed

  The world and all its beauty for mankind,

  Eternal in Himself and all He’s made,

  Whose life cannot diminish, change or fade,

  Who made the earth and life, Whose mercies give

  These treasures to mankind that they may live,

  Who lights the soul with sense, Whose beams illumine

  The universe itself and all that’s human . . .”

  When Layli’d scattered these bright jewels, she turned her

  Attention to the matters that concerned her:

  “This letter is like silk, and it is sent

  From one who grieves to one our fates torment,

  That is, from me, who locked up weeps and rages,

  To you, who’s broken free of paltry cages.

  How are you, my lost love, who has to live

  Beneath the light the seven planets give?

  O treasurer of former love, whose light

  Illumines love itself and makes it bright,

  Whose drops of blood shed on the earth must shine

  As glittering rubies deep within a mine,

  O stream of Khezr,110 deep in the dark of night,

  O dazzled moth that seeks dawn’s candlelight,

  O you who’s caused such uproar, and whose home

  Is hidden where wild asses choose to roam,

  O you who’s caused me such disgrace, who’ll be

  On Judgment Day together there with me,

  O heart that’s faithful to my faithful heart

  That’s never wished or hoped that we might part,

  How do you fare, and what now can you do

  In this sad game love’s played with me and you?

  And how can I endure this destiny

  Which keeps my partner now so far from me?

  This so-called partner-husband they’ve supplied me

  Has never lain with me or slept beside me,

  He wears my life away, but he’s been taught

  Mine is a diamond that he hasn’t bought,

  My treasured jewel remains intact, as though

  It were a rosebud that refused to grow;

  Spouses are fine . . . but what’s this spouse to me

  Who’s not the lover whom I long to see?

  Garlic and lily plants look similar,

  Their scent soon tells you which of them they are!

  And unripe cucumbers might look as sweet

  As citrons when they’re ripe enough to eat,

  But bite them and they’re bitter, and their taste

  Shows that your trust in looks has been misplaced.

  My wish was always that I would be blessed

  With someone just like you to share my nest,

  And that if anyone should thwart you he

  Should be dispatched from life immediately;

  How’s it a sin, if I can’t live with you,

  For me to live as I’m now forced to do?

  The heart that doesn’t please you has no place

  On earth, and she should perish in disgrace,

  And she who seeks to hurt you, may her hand

  Dry up and may she vanish from this land.

  To me a single hair from you is worth

  All of the wondrous treasures of the earth,

  And gardens filled with roses are less sweet

  Than dust that has been walked on by your feet.

  Oh, in your wanderings in the desert be

  The sacred water that Khezr guards for me;111

  I am the moon and you’re the sun, you are

  The shining light I look on from afar—

  Forgive my staying here; you know, Majnun,

  The sun can’t be accosted by the moon.

  I heard about your father’s death and tore

  In my unhappiness the clothes I wore,

  I clawed my face in grief and wept and cried

  As if it were my father who had died,

  I wept so long and hard my eyes grew red,

  I dressed in dark blue to lament the dead,

  I mourned in sympathy with you, to share

  Your heartfelt agony, and your despair,

  And I did everything but come to you

  Which was the one thing that I couldn’t do—

  My body’s parted from you, even so

  My soul is with you everywhere you go.

  I know your heart’s grief, but I also see

  That patience is our only remedy.

  We’re guests here for a brief two days, and Fate

  Is something that we have to tolerate,

  This inn112 that seems so lovely has waylaid us

  And soon enough we find it has betrayed us;

  Don’t be deceived, see what life has in store,

  And see how short it is, and say no more.

  Try to mourn less, be patient, for who knows

  The ways by which this crooked heaven goes?

  Stay strong within your love for me, and see

  How patience overcomes adversity—

  I suffer as you do, but I endure

  More patiently, my step is strong and sure.

  It’s wisest to
stay out of sight, and tears

  Provoke your enemies’ derisive sneers—

  A man who’s sensible will never voice

  Sadness that makes his enemy rejoice;

  Be as you are, yourself, but also strive

  To be content, while you are here, alive.

  The world and heavens turn, and you must learn

  Not to be outraged by them as they turn—

  Don’t watch the sower; when the wheat has grown

  Watch as the reaper harvests what he’s sown;

  The palm tree that’s all thorny spines creates

  In time a bounteous harvest of sweet dates,

  And that tight, tiny bud that hardly shows

  It’s living, opens as a lovely rose.

  Don’t grieve that you have no one; you have me,

  And isn’t that enough? It ought to be!

  Crying that you’re alone is wrong of you—

  It’s only God of Whom this claim is true!

  Grieve for your father, but don’t be the flash

  Of angry lightning or the thunder’s crash,

  And don’t be like the lowering cloud that rains

  Its tears so copiously it drowns the plains.

  Your father’s gone, but you’re alive; the ground,

  The rock, is broken, but a jewel is found.”

  *

  Majnun read through the letter and he fell

  Like a pistachio loosened from its shell,

  And cried out, “God . . . O God . . .” now unaware

  Of who he was, or how he was, or where,

  And when he came back to himself, all he

  Could do was weep and wail unceasingly

  And kiss the messenger’s two hands, and then

  He’d kiss his feet, and then his hands again,

  And moan in his despair, “But, oh, I lack

  Both pen and ink, so how can I write back?”

  The messenger produced a bag (the sort

  A lawyer always has when he’s in court),

  And from it gave Majnun all he required

  To write whatever message he desired.

  Majnun took up the fluent pen and wrote

  A thousand greetings in his hasty note,

  Setting out all the sorrows he’d been through

  In language that was beautiful and true,

  And gave the missive to the messenger,

  Entreating him to carry it to her.

  The messenger set off, and made good speed,

  And gave the note to Layli as agreed,

  Who, when she saw it, wept with old regret

  And, as she took it, made the missive wet.

  Majnun’s Letter Reaches Layli

  The letter opened with the glorious praise

  Of One Who is unequaled in all ways,

  The King of all that’s known and is unknown,

  Who hides the shining ruby in the stone,

  Upholder of the Great and Little Bear,

  And of the heavens, and all stars everywhere,

  Foundation of our hearts, Bringer of light

  That heralds day and banishes the night,

  Who irrigates the laughing spring, Who’s there

  To answer every needy suppliant’s prayer . . .

  Majnun then spoke of all his woes, and of

  The pains he’d suffered for the sake of love:

  *

  “I’m writing now, unhappy with my fate,

  To you, who’s left me in this wretched state;

  You are the locked, forbidden treasury,

  I’ve still to forge the iron that makes its key.

  I am the dust beneath your feet, but you—

  Who is it whom you give life’s water to?

  I bow before you, clutching at your dress—

  Who is it whom your lovely hands caress?

  How much I’ve suffered as I weep and wait—

  Whose sufferings does your kindness mitigate?

  I bear your burdens, toiling in despair—

  Whose is the earring that you humbly wear?113

  My ka‘bah is your lovely face, I pray

  In one direction—to your alleyway;

  You are a pearl dropped in a glass of wine,114

  You heal a thousand breasts, but never mine.

  You are a crown, but you have never crowned me,

  Instead you rob me, harry me, and hound me;

  You are a treasure strangers freely take,

  But when friends come, you’re guarded by a snake;115

  You’re Eram’s garden,116 which is locked to me,

  And you’re a paradise I never see,

  But then you are what frees me from my grief,

  The medicine that must bring my love relief.

  Don’t take an axe to this poor tree that’s grown

  From your encouragement; for you alone,

  I lie in endless pain, reduced to dust—

  Heal me, caress me, as is only just.

  If you are kind, I’ll give the spring to you,

  If you are cruel, dust’s all I’ll bring to you—

  Kindness renews the earth, whose dirt discloses

  From kindness’s effects the sweetest roses.

  I bow before you at your feet, don’t send me

  Away from you with arguments; befriend me;

  I bring you water—see it doesn’t spill,

  And I shall be obedient to your will,

  But even the most passive subjects are

  Prone to rebel if they are pushed too far.

  I am your slave, but don’t think you can leave me—

  I’d soon become your enemy, believe me!

  Treat a dog badly and he’ll turn into

  A ravening wolf that wants revenge on you;

  Don’t be at every beggar’s beck and call,

  Handing your treasures out to one and all.

  I’ll be your slave, in all humility,

  If you’ll act generously and graciously.

  But I can’t fight you, I’m content to yield,

  And look, I gladly throw away my shield,

  But don’t attack your friends—to fight your own

  Is wearing weapons out against a stone,

  And why assault yourself, when all you’ll do

  Is tear apart whatever’s left of you?

  Be friendly, and free men will then behave

  As if each one desires to be your slave;

  Those who aren’t kind in this way can’t be sure

  That they’ll stay safe, unchallenged and secure,

  While those who act humanely quickly find

  Servants will flock to them because they’re kind.

  Anger resides in everyone, within

  Each mind a devil lurks who savors sin,

  And if your devil rears its head, its evil

  Will be confronted by another’s devil.

  How long will you destroy me and oppress me?

  Can’t you relent for one day and caress me?

  So cold are all my sighs, in my despair

  They freeze the very dust that fills the air.

  You’ve crept off, and found somewhere else to hide,

  And chosen someone else to lie beside,

  And my neglected name’s inscribed upon

  A block of ice that melts until it’s gone.

  Your words to me are worthless, substanceless,

  And all that’s in them is an emptiness;

  You’ve turned my days to night and given me

  Nothing but wounds and sighs and misery,

  And kept your heart while I gave mine to you,


  And when you’ve killed me, you’ll forget me too.

  Your words to me are brands that wound and burn me,

  But you don’t care, and ceaselessly you spurn me;

  My love for you was visible upon

  My face and obvious to everyone,

  Where can your love for me be seen? What sign

  Shows me that you’re still longing to be mine?

  There’s none, you broke your vow to me, and now

  You’ve made another man that selfsame vow,

  For him you’ve words of kindness and desire;

  To me your words were false, you were a liar.

  If you’re in love, where is your honesty?

  Where are the kindly sighs you owe to me?

  Without them what you call love is oppression,

  You want me as a conquest, a possession;

  You’re free of heartbreak and its lovelorn sighing,

  For you love’s selling, bargaining, and buying.

  I’ve longed to see your face, I’ve bowed my head

  Upon the dusty street where you might tread,

  I’ve cast lots, trying to find out when and where

  I ought to wait in hopes you’ll pass me there.

  The man who sees you is the happy one,

  Not one who waits in vain as I have done,

  You are a jewel, luck loves whoever can

  Possess and hold you—I am not that man;

  Though nightingales make gardens sweet, it’s crows

  That eat the juicy figs the gardener grows,

  And from his pomegranate tree the fruit

  Is given to some sick, bedridden brute.

  The world was ever thus, and what we prize

  Lies in the ground, it’s hidden from our eyes:

  Tell me I’ll see my longed-for ruby shine

  Freed from the darkness of her stony mine,

  Tell me the pale moon will break free at last

  From the fell dragon that has held her fast,117

  Tell me that the officious bee has flown

  And left the lovely honey all alone,

  Tell me the garden’s nasty owner’s gone

  And that the hideous crows there have moved on,

  That nightingales replace them, that the rose

  Is cleansed of dust and wears her loveliest clothes,

  Tell me the blackguard’s forfeited his head

  And that the treasure’s guardian snake118 is dead,

  Tell me the castle jailer’s dreadful fall

  Has left him dying by the castle wall,

  And that, after her long captivity,

  The castle’s lady once again is free.

  *

  “I’m exiled from your flame, but I wish no