One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  rain

  So thick and fast, they were as chains, and I to her did say,

  “My tears have fallen so thick, that now they’ve bound me

  with a chain.”

  The treasures of my patience fail, absence is long on me And

  yearning sore; and passion’s stress consumeth me amain.

  If God’s protection cover me and Fortune be but just And Fate

  with her whom I adore unite me once again,

  I’ll doff my clothes, that she may see how worn my body is, For

  languishment and severance and solitary pain.

  Then he went on to the fourth cage, where he found a nightingale, which, at sight of him, began to tune its plaintive note. When he heard its descant, he burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

  The nightingale’s note, when the dawning is near, Distracts

  from the lute-strings the true lover’s ear.

  Complaineth, for love-longing, Uns el Wujoud, Of a passion that

  blotteth his being out sheer.

  How many sweet notes, that would soften, for mirth, The

  hardness of iron and stone, do I hear!

  The zephyr of morning brings tidings to me Of meadows,

  full-flower’d for the blossoming year.

  The scents on the breeze and the music of birds, In the

  dawning, transport me with joyance and cheer.

  But I think of a loved one, that’s absent from me, And mine

  eyes rain in torrents, with tear upon tear;

  And the ardour of longing flames high in my breast, As a fire

  in the heart of a brasier burns clear.

  May Allah vouchsafe to a lover distraught To see and foregather

  once more with his dear!

  Yea, for lovers, heart-sickness and longing and woe And wake

  are excuses that plainly appear.

  Then he went on a little and came to a handsome cage, than which there was no goodlier there, and in it a culver, that is to Say, a wood-pigeon, the bird renowned among the birds as the singer of love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck, wonder-goodly of ordinance. He considered it awhile and seeing it mazed and brooding in its cage, shed tears and repeated these verses:

  O culver of the copse, may peace upon thee light, O friend of

  all who love and every wistful wight!

  I love a young gazelle, a slender one, whose glance Than

  sharpest sabre’s point is keener and more bright.

  For love of her, my heart and entrails are a-fire And

  sicknesses consume my body and my spright.

  The sweet of pleasant food’s forbidden unto me, And eke I am

  denied the taste of sleep’s delight.

  Solace and fortitude have taken flight from me, And love and

  longing lodge with me, both day and night.

  How shall my life be sweet to me, while she’s afar, That is my

  life, my wish, the apple of my sight?

  When the pigeon heard these verses, it awoke from its brooding and cooed and warbled and trilled, till it all but spoke; and the tongue of the case interpreted for it and recited the following verses:

  O lover, thy wailings recall to my mind The time when my youth

  from me wasted and dwined,

  And A mistress, whose charms and whose grace I adored,

  Seductive and fair over all of her kind;

  Whose voice, from the twigs of the sandhill upraised, Left the

  strains of the flute, to my thought, far behind.

  A snare set the fowler and caught me, who cried, “Would he d

  leave me to range at my will on the wind!”

  I had hoped he was clement or seeing that I Was a lover, would

  pity my lot and be kind;

  But no, (may God smite him!) he tore me away From my dear and

  apart from her harshly confined.

  Since then, my desire for her grows without cease, And my heart

  with the fires of disjunction is mined.

  God guard a true lover, who striveth with love And hath

  suffered the torments in which I have pined!

  When he seeth me languish for love in my cage, He will loose

  me, in mercy, my loved one to find

  Then Uns el Wujoud turned to his friend, the Ispahani and said to him, ‘What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in it?’ Quoth the eunuch, ‘The Vizier of King Shamikh built it for his daughter, fearing for her the assaults of fate and the vicissitudes of fortune, and lodged her therein, with her attendants; nor do we open it save once in every year, when our victual comes to us.’ And Uns el Wujoud said in himself, ‘I have gained my end’ though after long travail.’

  Meanwhile, Rose-in-bud took no delight in eating nor drinking, sitting nor sleeping; but her transport and passion and love-longing redoubled on her, and she went wandering about the castle, but could find no issue; wherefore she shed plenteous tears and recited the following verses:

  They have prisoned me straitly from him I adore And given me to

  eat of mine anguish galore.

  My heart with the flames of love-longing they fired, When me

  from the sight of my loved one they bore.

  They have cloistered me close in a palace built high On a mount

  in the midst of a sea without shore.

  If they’d have me forget, their endeavour is vain, For my love

  but redoubles upon me the more.

  How can I forget him, when all I endure Arose from the sight of

  his face heretofore?

  My days are consumed in lament, and my nights Pass in thinking

  of him, as I knew him of yore.

  His memory my solace in solitude is, Since the lack of his

  presence I needs must deplore.

  I wonder, will Fate grant my heart its desire And my love,

  after all, to my wishes restore!

  Then she donned her richest clothes and trinkets and threw a necklace of jewels around her neck; after which she ascended to the roof of the castle and tying some strips of Baalbek stuff together, [to serve for a rope], made them fast to the battlements and let herself down thereby to the ground. Then she fared on over wastes and wilds, till she came to the sea-shore, where she saw a fishing-boat, and therein a fisherman, whom the wind had driven on to the island, as he went, fishing here and there, on the sea. When he saw her, he was affrighted, [ taking her for a Jinniyeh] and put out again to sea; but she cried out and made pressing signs to him to return, reciting the following verses:

  Harkye, O fisherman, fear thou no injury; I’m but an earthly

  maid, a mortal like to thee.

  I do implore thee, stay, give ear unto my prayer And hearken to

  my true and woeful history.

  Pity, (so God thee spare,) the ardour [of my love,] And say if

  thou hast seen a loved one, fled from me.

  I love a fair-faced youth and goodly; brighter far Of aspect

  than the face of sun or moon is he.

  The antelope, that sees his glances, cries, “His slave Am I,”

  and doth confess inferiority.

  Yea, beauty on his brow these pregnant words hath writ In very

  dust of musk, significant to see,

  “Who sees the light of love is in the way of right, And he who

  strays commits foul sin and heresy.”

  An thou have ruth on me and bring me to his sight, O rare!

  Whate’er thou wilt thy recompense shall be;

  Rubies and precious stones and freshly gathered pearls And

  every kind of gem that is in earth and sea.

  Surely, O friend, thou wilt with my desire comply; For all my

  heart’s on fire with love and agony.

  When the fisherman heard this, he wept and sighed and lamented; then, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his youth, when love had the mastery over him and transport and love-lo
nging and distraction were sore upon him and the fires of passion consumed him, replied with these verses:

  Indeed, the lover’s excuse is manifest, Wasting of body and

  streaming tears, unrest,

  Eyes, in the darkness that waken still, and heart, As ‘twere a

  fire-box, bespeak him love-oppress.

  Passion, indeed, afflicted me in youth, And I good money from

  bad learnt then to test.

  My soul I bartered, a distant love to win; To gain her favours,

  I wandered East and West;

  And eke I ventured my life against her grace And deemed the

  venture would bring me interest.

  For law of lovers it is that whoso buys His love’s possession

  with life, he profits best.

  Then he moored his boat to the shore and bade her embark, saying, ‘I will carry thee whither thou wilt.’ So she embarked and he put off with her; but they had not gone far, before there came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly out of sight of land. The fisherman knew not whither he went, and the wind blew without ceasing three days, at the end of which time it fell, by leave of God the Most High, and they sailed on, till they came in sight of a city builded upon the seashore, and the fisherman set about making fast to the land.

  Now the King of the city, a very powerful prince called Dirbas, was at that moment sitting, with his son, at a window in the palace giving upon the sea, and chancing to look out to sea-ward, they saw the fishing-boat enter the harbour. They observed it narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she were the full moon in the mid-heaven, with pendants in her ears of fine balass rubies and a collar of precious stones about her neck. So the King knew that this must be the daughter of some king or great noble, and going forth of the sea-gate of the palace, went down to the boat, where he found the lady asleep and the fisherman busied in making fast to the shore. He went up to her and aroused her, whereupon she awoke, weeping; and he said to her, ‘Whence comest thou and whose daughter art thou and what brings thee hither?’ ‘I am the daughter of Ibrahim, Vizier to King Shamikh,’ answered she; ‘and the manner of my coming hither is strange and the cause thereof extraordinary.’ And she told him her whole story, hiding nought from him; then she sighed deeply and recited the following verses:

  Tears have mine eyelids wounded sore, and wonder-fast they flow

  Adown my cheek for parting’s pain and memory and woe,

  For a beloved’s sake, who dwells for ever in my heart, Though

  to foregather with himself I cannot win, heigho!

  Fair, bright and brilliant is his face, in loveliness and

  grace, Turk, Arab and barbarian he cloth indeed o’ercrow.

  The full moon and the sun contend in deference to him, And when

  he rises into sight, they, lover-like, bend low.

  His eyes with wondrous witchery are decked, as ‘twere with

  kohl; Even as a bow, that’s bent to shoot its shafts, to

  thee they show.

  O thou, to whom I have perforce revealed my case, have ruth On

  one with whom the shifts of love have sported long eno’.

  Lo, broken-hearted, Love hath cast me up upon thy coast,

  Wherefore I trust that thou on me fair favour wilt bestow.

  The noble who, when folk of worth alight within their bounds,

  Do honour and protect them, win increase of glory so.

  Cover thou then, my lord, my hope, two lovers’ follies up And

  let them to thy succouring hand their loves’ reunion owe.

  Then she shed plenteous tears and recited these verses also:

  I lived, a marvel till I saw in love, then lived no mo’; Each

  month to thee as Rejeb be, as free from fear of

  foe!

  Is it not strange that, on the morn they went away, I lit Fire

  in my vitals with the tears that from mine eyes did flow?

  Indeed, mine eyelids ran with blood, and on the wasted plain Of

  my sad cheek, that therewithal was watered, gold did grow.

  Yea, for the safflower hue, that thence o’erspread my cheeks,

  they seem The shirt of Joseph, steeped in blood, to make a

  lying show.

  When the King heard this, he was certified of her passion and love-longing and was moved to compassion for her; so he said to her, ‘Fear nothing and be not troubled; thou hast attained the term of thy wishes; for needs must I bring thee to thy desire.’ And he recited the following verses:

  Daughter if nobles, thou hast reached thy wishes’ goal, I trow:

  In happy presage then rejoice and fear not any woe.

  Treasures this very day, will I collect and neath escort Of

  horsemen and of champions, to Shamikh they shall go.

  Brocade and bladders full of musk I will to him despatch And

  eke white silver and red gold I’ll send to him also.

  Yea, and a letter neath my hand my wish for ties of kin And for

  alliance with himself shall give him eke to know;

  And all endeavour will I use, forthwith, that he thou lov’st

  Once more with thee may be conjoined, to part from thee no

  mo.

  I, too, have battened upon love and know the taste thereof And

  can excuse the folk who’ve quaffed the self-same cup of

  woe.

  Then, returning to his palace, he summoned his Vizier and causing pack him up countless treasure, bade him carry it to King Shamikh and say to him, ‘The King is minded to ally himself with thee by marrying Uns el Wujoud, shine officer, to his daughter. So needs must thou send him with me, that the marriage may be solemnized in her father’s kingdom.’ And he wrote a letter to King Shamikh, to this effect, and gave it to the Vizier, charging him without fail bring back Uns el Wujoud, on pain of deposition from his office. ‘I hear and obey,’ answered the Vizier and setting out forthright, in due course arrived at the court of King Shamikh, to whom he delivered the letter and presents, saluting him in the name of King Dirbas. When Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns el Wujoud, he burst into tears and said to the Vizier, ‘And where is Uns el Wujoud? He went away, and we know not his place of abiding. Bring him to me, and I will give thee the sum of the presents thou hast brought me, twice told.’ And he wept and sighed and groaned, reciting the following verses:

  Him whom I loved to me restore; By gold and gifts I set no

  store.

  Nor do I crave largesse, indeed, Of pearls and gems and

  precious ore.

  As ‘twere a moon at full, for us, In beauty’s heaven he did

  soar.

  Passing in wit and grace, gazelles With him comparison gave

  o’er.

  His shape was as a willow-wand, For fruits that sweet

  seductions bore;

  But in the willow, to enslave The hearts of men, there is no

  lore.

  I reared him from a child upon The bed of fondness evermore;

  And now I am at heart distraught For him and sorrow passing

  sore.

  Then said he to the Vizier, ‘Go back to thy master and tell him that Uns el Wujoud has been missing this year past, and his lord knoweth not whither he is gone nor hath any news of him.’ ‘O my lord,’ answered King Dirbas’s Vizier, ‘my master said to me, “An thou come back without him, thou shalt be ousted from the Vizierate and shall not enter my city.” How then can I return without him?’ So King Shamikh said to his Vizier Ibrahim, ‘Take a company and go with him and make search for Uns el Wujoud everywhere.’ ‘I hear and obey,’ answered Ibrahim, and taking a company of his own retainers, set out in quest of Uns el Wujoud, accompanied by King Dirbas’s Vizier; and as often as they fell in with Bedouins or others, they enquired at them of Uns el Wujoud, saying, ‘Have ye seen a man, whose name is so and so and his favour thus and thus?’ But they answered, ‘We know him not.’

  So they fared o
n, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in hill and plain and desert and wold, till they came to the sea-shore, where they took ship and sailed, till they came to the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and King Dirbas’s Vizier said to Ibrahim, ‘Why is this mountain thus called?’ ‘There was once of old time,’ answered the other Vizier, ‘a Jinniych, of the Jinn of China, who fell passionately in love with a man and being in fear of her own people, searched all the earth for a place, where she might hide him from them, till she happened on this mountain and finding it inaccessible both to men and Jinn, carried off her beloved and lodged him therein. There she used to visit him privily, till she had borne him a number of children, and the merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their voyages over the sea, heard the weeping of the children, as it were the wailing of a woman who had lost her young, and said, “Is there here a mother bereaved of her children?” For which reason the place was named the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother.’ And King Dirbas’s Vizier marvelled at this.

  Then they landed and making for the castle, knocked at the gate, which was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Vizier Ibrahim and kissed his hands. Ibrahim entered and finding in the courtyard, among the serving men, a man in the habit of a fakir, said. ‘Whence comes yonder fellow?’ Quoth they, ‘He is a merchant, who hath lost his goods by shipwreck, but saved himself on a plank; and he is an ecstatic.’ Now this was none other than Uns el Wujoud, [but the Vizier knew him not]; so he left him and went on into the castle. He found there no trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who answered, ‘She abode with us but a little while and went away, how and whither we know not.’ Whereupon he wept sore and repeated the following verses:

  O house, whose birds warbled for joyance whilere And whose

  sills were resplendent with glory and pride,

  Till the lover came to thee, bemooning himself For his passion,

  and found thy doors open and wide,

  Would I knew where my soul is, my soul that was late In a

  house, where its masters no longer abide!

  Therein were all things that are costly and rich And with suits

  of brocade it was decked, like a bride.

  Yea, happy and honoured its doorkeeper were. Would God I knew

  whither its mistress hath tried!

  Then he wept and sighed and bemoaned himself, exclaiming, ‘There is no resource against the ordinance of God neither is there any escape from that which He hath decreed!’ Then he went up to the roof and finding the strips of Baalbek stuff tied to the battlements and hanging down to the ground, knew that she had descended thence and had fled forth, as one distracted and mad with passion. Presently, he turned and seeing there two birds, an owl and a raven, deemed this an ill omen; so he groaned and recited these verses: