Layli and Majnun Page 5

  The dreadful grief they knew Majnun must feel,

  Though all they said was thorns thrown on a fire

  That only made the flickering flames blaze higher.

  They said, “Our tribe has lovelier girls than this,

  Idols who’ll saturate your soul with bliss,

  They’ve scented limbs, and linen clothes, they’re girls

  Whose lips are rubies and whose ears are pearls,

  Lovely as pictures, and in everything

  They’re more enchanting than the flower-filled spring;

  We have a hundred like this—why should you

  Pick out a perfect stranger to pursue?

  Let it be one of us whom you decide

  To choose as your auspicious, noble bride,

  The helpmate who’ll rejoice your heart, the friend

  Whose sugared kindnesses will never end.

  How Layli’s hurt your soul! You shouldn’t let her,

  It would be best for you now to forget her.”

  Majnun’s Love for Layli Drives Him into the Wilderness

  Their words were bitter to Majnun, who acted

  Like someone who’s distraught, deranged, distracted;

  He was a dead man tearing off his shroud,

  Ripping his clothes, and clapping, crying aloud—

  Since what were clothes to one who in his mind

  Had left both this world and the next behind?22

  And like Vameq whose search for Ozra23 led

  Him over plains and mountains, Majnun fled

  His house abruptly, tortured by distress

  And eager to seek out the wilderness.

  He tore his clothes and made a patchwork cloak,

  And all the ties that kept him home now broke

  And as a stranger, with his garments torn,

  Wandering unsheltered, ragged, and forlorn,

  Ready to kill himself24 in his despair,

  Calling on God, frantically, everywhere,

  He ran at random, crying his lament

  Of “Layli, Layli,” everywhere he went.

  Bareheaded, with torn clothes, he soon became

  An object of contempt, a source of shame,

  Welcoming good and bad, as though he could

  See no distinction between bad and good,

  And singing songs as lovely as the light

  Cast by the evening star in Yemen’s night.25

  And every line he sang was learned by heart

  By someone ravished by its artless art—

  Men followed in his footsteps, wondering

  At his despair, and wept to hear him sing,

  Though he took no account of them, or of

  Their interest in his songs and in his love;

  The world was nothing to him now, he led

  A life not still alive but not yet dead.

  He fell down on a muddy rock, and pressed

  Another heavy rock against his chest—

  His crushed flesh felt like dirty dregs that stay

  Within a wine glass to be thrown away,

  Or he was like a bird kept from its mate,

  Or candles melted to their final state.

  Dust on his face, his branded heart in pain,

  He spread a prayer mat on the dusty plain

  And sat there weeping, moaning, “What can heal

  The sorrow and the passion that I feel?

  I’ve wandered far from home, and I don’t know

  My way back now, or where I ought to go.

  Far from my home, my family who’d defend me,

  Far from my old companions who’d befriend me,

  My name and honor are a glass that’s dashed

  Against a stone and is forever smashed.

  For me, Good Fortune’s drum has split apart,

  The drum that beats now tells me to depart—

  Men say I’m drunk, or sometimes they prefer

  To say love’s made me an idolater,

  And that as men carve idols to adore,

  Layli’s the idol I bow down before.

  Or I’m a Turkish hunter’s chosen prey

  That’s caught and lame and cannot get away.

  But I’m obedient to my love and in my heart

  I kill myself for her and take her part;

  And if she says I’m drunk, I’m drunk, so be it

  And if she says I’m wild, I’m wild, I see it—

  Not even Fate could tame me or restrain me,

  Or overcome my wild despair and chain me.26

  Would that this wind of grief that’s laid me low

  Would end me here and never cease to blow,

  Or that a thunderbolt would strike this minute

  And burn the house that’s me, and all that’s in it;

  There’s no one to set fire to me, to turn me

  Into a soul-consuming fire and burn me,

  Or feed me to a monster of the sea

  And rid the world of my disgrace and me.

  Unworthiest of my time, whom people call

  A maddened demon who’s despicable,

  I’m like a thorn that wounds my tribe, and shame

  Is all my friends feel when they hear my name,

  And now my blood can legally be spilled—

  No one is punished when an outcast’s killed.

  Farewell, dear friends, companions of my heart,

  Our singing days are over, we must part—

  The wine glass that we shared, our friendship’s token,

  Has dropped upon the ground now and is broken,

  My leaving shatters it, and we can say

  My floods of tears have swept the glass away

  So that no shards or fragments still remain

  To cut my friends’ feet with unlooked for pain.

  And as for those of you who do not know

  Or understand my sorrow, let me go,

  I’m lost, don’t look for me, don’t try to speak

  With one who’s lost; for how long will you seek

  To tire your anxious hearts out to confront me,

  To hurt me and to drive me off and hunt me,

  When I myself want nothing but to leave

  This place where I can only sigh and grieve?

  *

  “O my love, I have fallen, come to me,

  And take my hand in loving sympathy;

  This wounded soul is yours; better that I

  Should live to be your lover than to die.

  Be kind, and send a message to revive

  My fainting soul so that I stay alive.

  I’m crazy, mad, disordered in my brains—

  Why is your neck encircled with such chains?27

  Don’t snare your neck like this, if there’s to be

  A noose around a neck it’s meant for me.

  My heart weaves hopes, your curls tear them apart—

  Who taught your curls this cruel, destructive art?

  But help me now I’ve fallen, rescue me,

  Raise me from overwhelming misery—

  Here, take my hand, drag me from grief’s abyss,

  Come, take my hand, or give me yours to kiss.

  It’s sinful to do nothing when you can

  Give aid and succor to a desperate man.

  Why don’t you pity me? Don’t scriptures say

  We should be merciful in every way?

  But one who doesn’t suffer cannot know

  The pains that those who suffer undergo,

  Someone who’s full thinks that a scrap of bread

  Will fill a man whom hunger’s left half dead—

  A man will know what
burning is when he

  Grabs something burning inadvertently.

  We’re human, both of us, but you’re a green

  Fresh leaf, a dry twig’s all I’ve ever been;

  Or think of gold and gilt, an ounce of one

  Is worth the other weighed out by the ton.

  O comfort of my soul, why have you taken

  My soul from me and left me here forsaken?

  What is my crime, what is my sin, apart

  From loving you with my remorseful heart?

  Grant me one night from thousands, for one night

  Say that what’s sinful is allowed and right,

  Don’t draw your head back from accepting me,

  On my head be the guilt! Your chastity

  Remains unblemished and the sin’s my own,

  One of the many that are mine alone.

  But if you feel unbridled anger, when

  Shall I find mercy at your hands again?

  Should anger flare in you like fire, then drench it

  With all my tears, and they will quickly quench it.

  O my new moon, whose star I am, your glances

  Are like a spell that dazzles and entrances—

  I shall not ask the shadows for some sign

  Of you; I fear the shadows, I fear mine,

  I saw you in the shadows and you stole

  My shadow from me, and my heart and soul;

  What kind of love is this, what kind of shame?

  This is cruel force, not love’s beguiling game.

  What kind of reputation have you brought me?

  To have no reputation’s all you’ve taught me.

  If I can’t be with you, I won’t complain

  Since it will mean that I can hope again.

  A thirsty child dreams of a golden cup

  That’s filled with water, and he drinks it up,

  But when he wakes, the dream no longer lingers

  And thirstily he sucks and licks his fingers.

  Pain racks my limbs, they and my body’s frame

  Seem bent into the letters of your name;

  Love for you overflows my heart, so be it,

  But others must not know of it or see it;

  It entered with my mother’s milk, believe me,

  And when my soul departs it too will leave me.”

  He fainted, and fell headlong to the ground,

  And sadly those who’d watched him gathered round.

  *

  Kindly they lifted him, and gently bore him

  Back to his home, hoping this would restore him.

  Love that is not eternal love, in truth

  Is no more than the lustful games of youth;

  True love is love that does not fade, or care

  To step outside itself or look elsewhere,

  It’s not the love that dreams are built upon

  That’s always weakening till at last it’s gone.

  Majnun’s love’s emblem, and its noblest name,

  Love’s insight, wisdom, and eternal fame;

  He bore love’s weight as though he were a rose

  Accepting gratefully each wind that blows;

  And now like rosewater that still retains

  The scent of roses, so his scent remains,

  And I’ll distill the scent of this sweet rose

  Within the fragrant verses I compose.

  Majnun’s Father Takes Him to Mecca

  Just as the skies are governed by the moon

  So love for moon-like Layli ruled Majnun,

  And every day his reputation spread,

  As still more lovelorn fancies filled his head.

  The man whose nature’s like this breaks each chain

  That keeps us stable, self-controlled, and sane—

  Fortune deserted him; his father had

  Despaired of him, convinced that he was mad,

  And sought for help from God throughout each night,

  Anxiously praying till the morning light,

  Traveling to every shrine and holy place,

  Returning unfulfilled in every case.

  His friends and relatives all crowded round

  Hoping that some solution could be found,

  Each setting out a strategy or plan

  To see if they could help this helpless man,

  Until they said, “Mecca will open wide

  The door of where his difficulties hide;

  Mecca resolves all men’s predicaments,

  Both earth’s entreaties and the firmament’s.”

  And he replied, “That’s where I’ll take Majnun;

  The time for pilgrimage is coming soon.”

  *

  The time came, and he strapped a litter on

  A camel’s back, and there he placed his son

  So comfortably he seemed the moon inside

  A cradle, loved and rocked throughout the ride.

  Emotion surged within his breast as he

  Drew near to Mecca and its sanctuary—

  Humbly this dweller in a desert land

  Wept tears as numerous as grains of sand,

  As bright as strewn jewels, scattered without measure,

  Making this treasured place a place of treasure.

  Gently he took his son’s hand then, and stayed

  A moment with him in the ka‘bah’s shade,28

  And said, “My boy, this is no joke; it’s where

  Men can be cured of every curse and care;

  Circle the ka‘bah once, and you will find

  You can escape grief’s circling in your mind;

  Just say, ‘O God, release me from this pain,

  Grant me Your grace, and make me well again;

  Save me from this obsession, comfort me,

  Show me the way to health and sanity;

  Know love is my addiction and my master,

  Free me from love’s injurious disaster.’”

  Majnun heard all this talk of love, and after

  He’d wept at first, he was convulsed with laughter.

  He darted forward like a snake, and touched

  The ka‘bah’s stone, and as he grasped and clutched,

  He said, “I’m like a knocker on a door,

  A ring that waits but can do nothing more,

  My soul is sold for love, and from my ear

  May love’s bright earring29 never disappear!

  ‘Detach yourself from love,’ these people say,

  But knowledgeable folk don’t talk this way!

  My strength is all from love, so wouldn’t I

  Fall prey to death as well, if love should die?

  It’s love that’s made me, formed me, fashioned me;

  If there’s no love, what could my future be?

  And may the heart that has no love to hide

  Be borne away upon grief’s flowing tide!

  O Lord, by Your celestial attributes,

  And by Your perfect power that none disputes,

  Convey me to love’s limits and though I

  May die in time, such love will never die.

  From light’s source give me everlasting light;

  Don’t keep such kohl back from my dazzled sight,

  And though I’m drunk with love now, I’ll soon prove

  To be possessed of even greater love.

  They say, ‘Escape from love, and wholly free

  Your heart from wanting Layli constantly.’

  O God, increase my need to glimpse the face

  Of Layli always and in every place,

  Take back the years that I have left, and give

  Them all to her as added y
ears to live.30

  I’ve withered to a hair in my despair

  But I’d not have her lose a single hair,

  And may the earring that I wear as proof

  I’m hers be my continual reproof;

  May my glass never lack her wine, my fame

  Never be separated from her name,

  May her pure beauty be the cause that I

  Now sacrifice my soul for her and die,

  And as I burn here like a candle, may

  That flame not be extinguished for a day;

  May all the love within me not grow old

  But multiply and grow a hundredfold.”

  And as he spoke, his saddened father heard

  His son’s account, and didn’t say a word;

  He saw his heart was captive, and was sure

  This sickness was impossible to cure.

  He went back home and told his family there

  All that he’d heard that proved his son’s despair;

  He said, “He touched the ka‘bah, and the chain

  Was snapped that keeps men sensible and sane.

  The murmured sound of what Majnun was saying

  Sounded like Zoroastrians when they’re praying;31

  I hoped the page he’d read there32 would have taught him,

  How to escape the grief that Layli’s brought him,

  But all his hopes and prayers were that he’d be

  Cursed with this passion for eternity.”

  Men from Layli’s Tribe Turn Against Majnun

  Because this news reached everyone, it fell

  Into the hands of lawless oafs as well—

  Men heard that love for his belovèd had

  Driven a sweet young man completely mad;

  The news intrigued them, they debated it,

  Examined and exaggerated it,

  While Layli sat enduring what they said,

  Saddened by all the gossip that men spread.

  *

  And some of Layli’s kinsfolk did not fail

  To tell their tribal chieftain of this tale—

  They said, “A crazy youth, a lovelorn stranger,

  Is out there putting our good name in danger;

  He comes each day, it isn’t hard to find him,

  A crowd of louts like dogs is right behind him;

  Mournfully, crazily, he prowls around,

  Sometimes he’ll dance, sometimes he’ll kiss the ground,

  Or sing his love songs with a voice as sweet

  As are the sentiments his songs repeat,

  And every intricate sad song reveals

  The secrets of the passion that he feels,

  And from his songs men learn of shameful things