Layli and Majnun Read online

  Those seeing Layli’s beauty felt such thirst

  They were like pomegranates fit to burst.

  When Qais caught sight of her, his face turned sallow

  As if it shared the dawn skies’ golden yellow;12

  Their mingled scents were sweet, as though no care

  Or sorrow could survive when they were there,

  But even so their mingled, bitter cries

  Proclaimed their sadness to the morning skies.

  Love came; its sword did not discriminate

  But cleared the house, and left it to its fate—

  It took their hearts, and gave them grief, and made

  Them anxious, and bewildered, and afraid.

  Their promised hearts became the subject of

  Gossip that spread the rumor of their love;

  The veil was torn apart, their tale was heard

  On every side, repeated word for word,

  From mouth to mouth the secret story flew,

  What one man knew, another quickly knew.

  The lovers were discreet, and tried in vain

  To keep clandestine what was all too plain—

  Although the musk deer’s navel dries, the scent

  Of musk stays richly strong and redolent;13

  The wind that bears a lover’s scent removes

  The veil from all the loveliness he loves.

  With feigned indifference they tried hard to hide

  The naked passion that they felt inside,

  And when did feigned indifference work? Can clay

  Obscure the sun, or make it go away?

  When longing eyes tell tales, how can there be

  A story that stays veiled in secrecy?

  And when a thousand curls have chained a lover,

  There can be no escape, the struggle’s over;

  The theft has happened; if a lover’s wise

  He knows it happened right before his eyes.

  *

  Now he was smitten, lovesick, wholly caught

  Within the tightening collar love had wrought—

  He loved her beauty with such fervor, Qais

  Could find no rest or peace in any place—

  He only talked of her, which made him more

  Impatient and distracted than before;

  His heart and senses tumbled down pell-mell,

  The sack ripped open and the donkey fell;14

  And those who had not fallen as he had

  Called him “Majnun,” which means, “A man who’s mad,”

  While he with helpless cries give witness to

  The fact that what they said of him was true.

  Like barking dogs that drive away a fawn

  To keep it from a newly growing lawn,

  They cruelly teased Majnun, and hid the bright

  New moon15 his longing searched for from his sight.

  Cut off from him now, Layli secretly

  Wept pearl-like tears for him continuously;

  Deprived of Layli’s face, Majnun’s tears dropped

  In copious flowing floods that never stopped.

  He wandered through the streets and market place

  With anguish in his heart, tears on his face,

  Singing sad lovers’ songs whose melodies

  And words delineate love’s miseries,

  And men yelled, as they teased and laughed at him,

  “Majnun! Majnun!” before and after him.

  While he, for his part, simply let things go,

  Sunk as he was so deep in crazy woe,

  As if he led an ass that slipped its reins

  And let it wander off across the plains.

  His heart was like a pomegranate split

  In two, and he’d kept only half of it;

  He tried so hard to hide his heart’s desire

  But who can hide a heart when it’s on fire?

  It was as if his heart’s blood rose around him

  Until it rose above his head and drowned him.

  He grieved for her who could relieve his grief

  And in whose absence grief found no relief;

  He was a candle, useless in the day,

  At night unsleeping as it burns away.

  It was himself to whom he gave such pain,

  For whom he searched for anodynes in vain—

  He tore his soul out in the search, and beat

  His head against the thresholds at men’s feet.

  As each dawn broke he scrambled to make haste,

  To run barefoot into the desert waste.

  *

  Apart, these lovers had to be content

  With seeking out each other’s wafted scent—

  He’d leave his house and make his way each night

  To Layli’s street, and wait there out of sight,

  And in the dark he’d kiss her door16 and then

  Reluctantly he’d go back home again;

  His coming was the north wind, but his leaving

  Was like an endless age that’s spent in grieving,

  In coming he’d a thousand wings to speed him,

  Returning home thorns sprang up to impede him,

  He went like water flowing, but coming back

  A hundred obstacles obscured his track,

  And even when he walked with blistered feet

  He felt he rode a horse to Layli’s street.

  With wind behind him and a pit ahead,

  He went back home to torture, tears, and dread—

  If Fortune waited at his beck and call

  He never would have gone back home at all.

  A Description of Majnun’s Love

  Majnun was lord of those dawn wakes from sleep,

  The leader of the troop of those who weep,

  The hidden guide along love’s way, the chain

  Of captives in love’s perilous domain,

  Music of mourners and the merchant of

  Grief’s exclamations and the cries of love,

  Drummer whose iron drum’s a warlike threat,

  Chaste monk within the convent of regret,

  An unseen sorcerer controlling devils,

  A juggler of desire’s rebellious evils,

  A Kay Khosrow17 who has no crown or throne,

  Consoler of poor thousands left alone,

  A lord who sends ant-armies to attack,

  Whose throne’s the saddle on an ass’s back,

  Straw shield against temptation, sentinel

  Who safeguards an abandoned citadel . . .

  *

  Majnun the brokenhearted, this vast sea

  Whose waves and breakers tumbled ceaselessly,

  Had two or three companions who’d been taught

  Like him the truth of all the pains love brought,

  And with these friends each morning he would go

  To Layli’s street to wander to and fro.

  Apart from “Layli” he paid no attention

  To any other word his friends might mention—

  A friend who brought up other topics near him

  Remained unanswered, Majnun didn’t hear him.

  It was to Najd this lover’s steps were guided,

  The mountainside where Layli’s tribe resided,

  Since it was only there he hoped to find

  Peace from the fire of love that filled his mind.

  As drunks do, he would clap his hands, and then

  He’d stumble and fall down and stand again;

  He sang a love song, though he hardly knew

  In his distraction where he was or who;

  His eyelashes were wet with tears as he

>   Sang to dawn’s breeze his lovesick melody:

  “O breeze of dawn, arise and go to where

  You play among the curls of Layli’s hair

  And say, ‘The one who’s sent you lays his head

  Upon the dusty thoroughfare you tread.

  He sends to you the gentle morning breeze

  And tells the dust of all his agonies—

  Send him a breeze from where you are, and give

  Some dust from there to him, that he may live,

  Since one who does not tremble for you must

  Be worth no more than is the wind-blown dust—

  To die of grief’s the best a man could do

  If he refused to give his soul for you.

  I would not weep these floods if my desire

  Did not consume me in love’s raging fire,

  And if love did not burn my heart, my friend

  Would not be these sad tears that never end;

  The sun itself that lights the whole world’s skies

  Could be burnt up by all my fiery sighs.

  O hidden candle of my soul, beware,

  Don’t immolate your moth that flutters there;

  The magic of your eyes has robbed me of

  My sleep, since all my vitals burn with love.

  Grief for you soothes my heart; you are both pain

  And balm, the wound that heals my heart again.

  Your lips are sugar—if you can, bestow

  On me a taste of them before I go;

  Given the state I’m in, that cordial would,

  I know, do me a world of honeyed good.

  The evil eye has struck, because, O moon,

  Your eyes no longer look upon Majnun.

  I reached up for ripe fruit, and to my cost

  It tumbled from my fingers and was lost.’”

  Majnun Goes to Layli’s Home and Sings There

  One evening—when the twilight air was soft

  As silken clothes, the haloed moon aloft

  Was like a shining earring, and stars shone

  Like drops of mercury beside the sun

  That set in crimson fire—Majnun, whose heart

  Like mercury would spill and split apart,

  With his few friends set out impatiently,

  Reciting prayers and singing poetry,

  To where his love lived; since his heart was lost,

  Like one who’s drunk, he did not count the cost.

  Where Layli sat within her tent that day

  The flap was tied back in the Arab way,

  She saw him and looked lovingly and long,

  He saw her and began his loving song.

  Layli a cradled star half hid from sight,

  Majnun her chamberlain on watch at night—

  Layli removed the scarf that held her hair,

  Majnun began the song of his despair;

  In Layli’s heart a harp played plangently,

  In Majnun’s head a lute twanged desperately.

  Layli the dawn’s light when the dark’s diminished,

  Majnun a candle self-consumed and finished;

  Layli a garden in a fruitful land,

  Majnun the scar of self-reproach’s brand;

  Layli the full moon with her radiant light,

  Majnun a reed before her, weak and slight;

  Layli a rosebush, bright and beautiful,

  Majnun a suppliant, bowed and pitiful.

  Layli I’d say was like a fairy-child,

  Majnun I tell you was a fire run wild;

  Layli a field that was still freshly growing,

  Majnun a field when autumn’s winds are blowing;

  Layli who with the dawn was glad to rise,

  Majnun a lamp whose flame at sunrise dies;

  Layli whose teasing curls fell like a wave,

  Majnun whose earring marked him as a slave;18

  Layli who drank her draught of wine at dawn,

  Majnun who sang sad songs, whose clothes were torn.

  Layli sewed silk within, Majnun burned rue19

  Against the harm the evil eye might do;

  Layli was like a rose, while Majnun’s eyes

  Shed rosewater, the tears a rose supplies;

  Layli let down and spread her lovely hair,

  Majnun wept pearls in his abject despair;

  Layli drank musky wine; wine’s musky scent

  Rendered Majnun both tipsy and content;

  Her fragrance charmed him, she was gratified

  He’d searched for her and hurried to her side.

  Afraid they’d be found out, of meeting’s dangers,

  They kept apart and acted like two strangers—

  Their only messengers were covert glances;

  They acted prudently, and took no chances,

  Pretending that the bridge across the river

  Dividing them was broken now forever.

  Majnun’s Father Goes to Ask for Layli’s Hand in Marriage

  Distressed they were divided in this fashion,

  Majnun sang songs describing his sad passion,

  Singing them as he went to Najd each night

  With one or two friends in the same sad plight,

  Fate’s victims, heartsick, wild companions who

  Together made a brazen, shameless crew.

  His father pitied his unhappy son,

  His relatives complained of all he’d done

  And gave him good advice that he ignored

  And told him moral tales that left him bored;

  Advice can be extraordinary and splendid

  But when love comes, its usefulness has ended.

  Majnun’s poor father seemed bereft of joy,

  His heart in anguish for his suffering boy;

  Bewildered and unsure, he tried to find

  Some way to ease his son’s tormented mind.

  He asked his family what was going on

  And heard the selfsame tale from everyone:

  “His head and heart are in a crazy whirl

  And all because of such-and-such a girl.”

  And when he’d heard their words, he saw he must

  In some way cleanse his rose of grime and dust—20

  He thought: “This pearl of such widespread renown

  Would be a shining jewel in Qais’s crown,

  He’d call the loveliest of her tribe his wife,

  The cherished charm and darling of his life.”

  None of the elders of the tribe opposed

  The plan that Qais’s father now proposed—

  They swore this unpierced pearl was suitable

  To be the partner of their peerless jewel

  And as a group then they prepared to make

  This journey for the grieving father’s sake,

  Saying that, if they could, they’d have Majnun

  Wedded at last to his adored full moon;

  When Seyed Amiri21 heard this, he smiled

  And stopped his weeping for his lovesick child.

  The group set off and solemnly proceeded

  With all the dignity the mission needed.

  Nobles and commoners came out to meet them,

  Hospitably to welcome them and greet them,

  They hailed them kindly, and then set before them

  A friendly spread of victuals to restore them.

  They said, “What is it that you need from us,

  What subject are you eager to discuss?

  Tell us your aim, and if you’ve some request

  We’ll be delighted to oblige a guest.”

  And Seyed Amiri replied, “We seek

  To get to kno
w you better, so to speak,

  And this is to promote the interests of

  Two splendid children, whom our tribes both love.”

  And then he singled out specifically,

  Of all the group, the father of Layli,

  And said, “My hope is our two children may

  Be joined together on their wedding day—

  My son’s a thirsty desert boy, he knows

  And watches where your limpid freshet flows,

  A stream that flows with kindness will revive

  A thirsty soul and keep its hopes alive.

  So this is what I seek, I’m not ashamed

  To make the proposition that I’ve named;

  You know my fame and worth, you understand

  That I’m the first of chieftains in this land,

  I’ve both the followers and fortune for

  The ways of kindly peace or vengeful war.

  I’ve come to buy, you’ve something fine to sell,

  Be wise, and sell, and all will then be well—

  Name me a price that’s reasonable, I’ll pay it

  And more than that, you only have to say it.”

  When Layli’s father’d heard him, he replied,

  “It’s not for us, but heaven, to decide

  These things; and though your tempting words might charm me

  I can’t walk into flames that could well harm me.

  Though friendship is involved in your request

  There’s much to say against what you suggest:

  Your son’s good-looking but unsuitable,

  His willfulness is indisputable;

  He’s mad, and shows it; it’s ridiculous

  To think a madman’s suitable for us.

  Pray that God cures him; once his problem’s over

  Will be the time to praise this faithful lover—

  Until your boy is competent and sane

  Don’t bring this subject up to me again;

  Who’d buy a jewel that’s flawed? And who would make

  A necklace with a thread that’s sure to break?

  Arabs love gossip, as you know full well;

  If I did this, who knows what tales they’d tell!

  Forget we’ve had this talk, it’s sealed and done,

  So let’s consign it to oblivion.”

  And Amiri and his companions then

  Saw they would have to go back home again,

  That unfulfilled and disappointed they

  Must now set off upon their homeward way,

  As sad as travelers bandits have attacked,

  Whose caravan has been despoiled and sacked.

  *

  And as they went they tried their best to heal