Layli and Majnun Read online

Page 9


  Foul demons in the swiftness of their flight.

  *

  Majnun thought all who fought there on this grim

  And fatal battlefield supported him—

  Each horseman whom he saw he prayed that he

  Would soon be granted peace and victory,

  And felt he’d die for everyone who died

  Whether from his or his opponents’ side;

  He wandered like a lover here and there

  Never at peace in his confused despair,

  And were it not for shame he would have waged

  War on his own side as he stormed and raged—

  If scorn had let him, he’d have fiercely fought

  Against his allies and the men they brought

  And slashed his friends’ heads off, did he not see

  The sneering laughter of his enemy.

  If Fate had willed it, he’d have drawn his bow

  Against his friend as often as his foe

  And had his heart not stopped him, he’d have slain

  His faithful allies on that dreadful plain.

  On one side warriors valiantly tried

  To triumph over their opponents’ side,

  On this side horses were urged onward while

  On that prayers rose up from the rank and file;

  When one from his side was struck down, he’d kiss

  The warrior’s hand that had accomplished this,

  When one from Layli’s tribe was struck and died

  How inconsolably he raged and cried!

  When his side’s lances were victorious, he

  Wished his opponents’ lances victory,

  And when his forces had the upper hand

  Arrows were rained on them from Majnun’s hand—

  If Layli’s side seemed stronger, he was sure

  To show his pleasure with a lion’s roar,

  And when one asked him, “Why are you

  So contrary in everything you do?

  Why is it you support your enemy

  When it’s for you we fight so desperately?”

  He said, “But when my enemy’s my friend,

  Who is it that my falchion should defend?

  With mortal enemies we have to fight

  But war against our friends cannot be right.

  Warfare means wounds, but here I catch the scent

  Of peaceful friendliness and sweet content—

  When it’s her soul’s scent the belovèd sends,

  The lover sends her his, and they are friends,

  She sends me honeyed drinks, shall I send her

  A drink concocted from sour vinegar?

  Hers is the hand of friendship—who’d refuse it?

  And foolishly pass by it, and so lose it?

  She is my heart’s desire, and she is where

  My soul is—she’s my soul, and I am there;

  I give the soul she takes, to have her cherish

  My soul’s a joy for which I’d gladly perish—

  Giving my soul like this, how am I fit

  To pity your poor soul or care for it?”

  And hearing him, the man he spoke to shed

  Tears of concern, and humbly bowed his head,

  While Majnun danced away half hidden by

  The battle’s dust that darkened earth and sky.

  *

  Meanwhile Nofal fought wildly, sword in hand,

  A maddened elephant that scoured the land—

  Each side he struck a man lay dead, each thrust

  Reduced a world of enemies to dust,

  Each way he turned heads fell, and men’s blood flowed

  In running rivers everywhere he rode.

  All day these swordsmen fought, until the light

  Began to fade with the approach of night,

  And when the scented curls of darkness lay

  Upon the pallid forehead of the day

  That like a Georgian girl shone palely white

  Till daylight was a curl cut off by night,

  The armies parted, they no longer fought;

  Now it was sleep their weary bodies sought.

  *

  Like a black serpent then Zahhak60 awoke

  And smiled, and plucked the stars till morning broke;

  Now in his hand each waking warrior takes

  His spear as fatal as Zahhak’s black snakes,

  But hidden by the night, from far and wide,

  Allies had flocked to Layli’s kinsmen’s side

  And from their camp new forces loosed a rain

  Of arrows that obscured the sky and plain,

  And seeing how things stood, Nofal grew sure

  That it was peace he needed now, not war.

  *

  He sent a messenger to sue for peace,

  To say, “Hostilities should hereby cease

  Since swords are not the method to decide

  The matter of a suitor and his bride;

  To gain your angel, who is worthy of

  My noble friend’s devotion and his love,

  I’ll gladly sacrifice my personal treasure

  And give you wealth beyond all count or measure.

  Sweeter than anything I say would be

  To end our anger and our enmity;

  If sugar’s not for sale, let us prefer

  At least that we don’t deal in vinegar,

  Since even if you won’t do what is right

  There’s no necessity that we should fight.”

  The envoy spoke, and hardly had he started

  When both the armies disengaged and parted;

  They heard each other’s words, and turned aside,

  Tugging their reins now for the homeward ride.

  Peace came between them, and they thought no more

  Of enmity, or stratagems, or war.

  Majnun’s Anger Against Nofal

  But as Majnun became aware of this retreat

  His fury flickered with intenser heat.

  He leaped up at Nofal: “Is this,” he cried,

  “How you bring lovers to each other’s side?

  Well done indeed! Bravo! What better end

  Could I have hoped for from my faithful friend?

  Is this the sum of all your chivalry

  And how your sword defeats an enemy?

  Is this the most your mighty strength can do?

  Is this how devilish foes are trapped by you?

  This is your horsemanship? This is the way

  You fling your lariat and seize your prey?

  You’ve gone against my wishes . . . what a fine

  Success you’ve made of this affair of mine!

  You’ve made my dearest friend my enemy

  And closed a thousand doors in front of me;

  Your friendship made me lose my friend, you stole

  From me my occupation and my soul—

  This is how friendship’s threads are snapped, and how

  A splendid horseman is unseated now!

  A shepherd sees a wolf—he aims at it

  And shoots, and sees that it’s his dog he’s hit.

  You’re famous for your generosity

  And what a splendid gift it’s given me!

  I never was so wounded through and through

  As when I rode to battle next to you;

  You sowed, and when no harvest came you tore

  The ground you’d sown with this divisive war.

  You! Who began so well, whose kindly ways

  Befriended me and brightened all my days,

  Who made my dark heart bright again, whose balm

  Tended m
y wounds, and made my spirit calm.”

  With soft, smooth words Nofal tried to evade

  The accusations that Majnun had made:

  “We were outnumbered and I saw we’d lose,

  The peace that I suggested was a ruse—

  Now we’ve escaped their swords, from far and wide

  I’ll summon hardy tribesmen to our side;

  I’ll smash this stone, I shan’t sleep till I make

  Their high-flown obstinacy yield and break.”

  As far as Baghdad and Medina then

  He sent out messengers to gather men,

  In secret seeking hardened soldiers he

  Could lead against his stubborn enemy,

  Then brought his gathered forces primed for war

  To where the battle had been fought before;

  Meanwhile his enemies were unaware

  Of all the forces that he’d summoned there.

  Nofal’s Second Battle

  The poet opens speech’s treasure chest

  To lay before us what is in his breast:

  *

  Someone who watched Nofal that day would find

  Wonders enough to daze his marveling mind.

  The massed troops felt the earth begin to shake,

  The slopes of Bu Qubays61 to crack and quake,

  Nofal’s war-cry rang out, and at the sound

  His enemies prepared to stand their ground.

  Their chief then climbed to where he could assess

  Both armies and their battle readiness,

  And saw to the horizon, everywhere,

  Soldiers whose spears and lances thronged the air—

  The din of drums, the bugles’ blasts, would jolt

  Hearts of dead men to rise up and revolt.

  This chief had no desire for battle, nor

  Would shame permit him to evade this war—

  He made a stand; the flood came, and he bore it

  Although it swept away his wealth before it.

  The two wings of his army turned and fled,

  Each flashing sword that struck, struck off a head,

  The blood flowed on the sand, and where it flowed

  The tumbling sand grains like carnelians glowed.

  Hearts trembled at the slaughter, swords held back,

  Ashamed to cut off heads in their attack—

  Nofal though pressed on with his sword, and made

  A mountain piled from corpses with its blade,

  He fought there like a dragon dealing death

  With every stabbing wound, with every breath,

  And every man his mace struck, one and all,

  Had they been mountains, still they’d reel and fall,

  His lance pierced every shield, and now bereft

  Its bearer’s book had no more pages left.

  Majnun fought just as hard, as if he’d give

  His life away and had no wish to live,

  So long and hard they fought, it was as though

  They slaughtered mounted men at every blow—

  When partners ride together they can split

  A stone, and make fresh water gush from it

  (Discord will bring defeat and misery,

  Alliances bring partners victory).

  That day Nofal’s men triumphed as they fought

  And so achieved the conquest they had sought,

  Killing the stragglers on the battlefield,

  Forcing all those they didn’t kill to yield;

  Those who’d survived lay wounded, half alive,

  And no one who was wounded would survive.

  *

  Their tribal elders mourned, and bowed before

  Nofal, acknowledging they’d lost the war—

  Weeping and moaning then, they wailed and pleaded,

  And begged him that their just requests be heeded:

  “Your enemies are dead, we who remain

  Are captives here whose kinsman have been slain;

  What will it profit you to slaughter us?

  To shed our blood would not be chivalrous;

  You don’t need spears and arrows to subdue

  This wounded remnant that submits to you;

  Judge us with charity, choose mercy’s way,

  Be mindful of God’s final Judgment Day.

  Employ your sword against armed enemies,

  Against belligerent adversaries,

  But who will fight when unarmed men admit

  They’ve lost the war and willingly submit?

  We’ve humbly thrown away our shields before you

  And it’s for mercy that we now implore you,

  We are defenseless here, and you’ve repaid us—

  You don’t need spears and arrows to persuade us.

  And when a battle’s fought, the one who wins

  Is satisfied, and can forgive past sins.”

  *

  Nofal responded, “I must have the bride,

  At once, if I’m to leave here satisfied.”

  Layli’s sad father spoke; he bowed his head

  Down to the dust before Nofal, and said,

  “Most worthy of all Arabs in renown,

  Worthy of leadership and of the crown,

  I am an old, sad man, my heart is broken,

  I’m one of whom contemptuous things are spoken

  By Arabs who revile me as a stranger;

  This blood that has been shed, this mortal danger,

  I take upon myself, since it’s for me

  Our tribe has suffered this catastrophe.

  For all this sinfulness I am to blame

  And wish to purify myself of shame.

  If you entrust my daughter to my care

  You’ll have my endless gratitude, I swear,

  But I shall not protest now or demur

  Whatever you decide to do with her,

  Not if you light a fire in which she would

  As an example burn like sandalwood,

  And if you were to kill her with your sword

  Or throw her in a well, you have my word

  Your slave will not object, or turn away

  His face from anything you do or say.

  But God forbid I’d give my lovely child

  To this Majnun, who’s so deranged and wild;

  Madmen should be chained up, not handed over

  To a young girl to be her husband-lover—

  For me to grant his devilish desire

  Would be like throwing brushwood on a fire.

  The man’s a fool, he reels from whim to whim,

  A scatterbrain, no good can come of him!

  He wanders in the mountains and the plains,

  A spectacle no decency constrains,

  Consorts with vagabonds, and makes his name—

  And mine—a byword for disgrace and shame.

  In Arab countries, everywhere he’s gone,

  My daughter’s name’s now known to everyone;

  No one had heard of her, but he has made

  Her every spiteful gossip’s stock-in-trade,

  And if I let him lead her off, I’ll be

  Scorned as a fool for all eternity;

  Better a crocodile devour someone

  Than that he be derided and live on!

  Don’t shame me in this way, I beg of you,

  Think of the consequences if you do;

  And at the least, if you don’t pity me,

  Depart from me in peace and let me be,

  And if you don’t, I swear I’ll make your name

  As much as mine a source of grief and shame.

  I’ll cut her head off, throw
it in the street,

  And let it lie there for stray dogs to eat,

  And in this way at least I will be free

  From all this horror that’s tormenting me;

  For dogs to eat her would be better than

  For her to marry that disgusting man.

  When dogs bite someone, ointments can restore

  The patient to the health he’d known before,

  A thousand ointments cannot cure the bite

  Of humans spewing mockery and spite.”

  *

  Hearing his words, Nofal became tongue-tied,

  And slowly, sympathetically replied.

  “Stand up,” he said. “Though I have won

  This battle, still, when all is said and done,

  You have to give us Layli willingly;

  If you are still convinced you cannot see

  Her leave you and feel happy in your heart,

  What man would force the two of you apart?

  A woman who is taken off by force

  Is bread that’s indigestible and coarse.

  I came here to do good, I can’t allow

  Myself to be involved in evil now.”

  His closest friends agreed with him and said,

  “The old man’s right, it would be wrong to wed

  His daughter to a man who’s so impulsive,

  So lustful and so foolish and repulsive—

  Her life would be a donkey’s! Woe betide

  The wretched woman who becomes his bride—

  It would be nothing short of a disaster

  For her to have him as her lord and master;

  It’s clear you can’t give her to him, he’s so

  Unstable who could say how things might go?

  And yesterday we fought for him while he

  Quite blatantly cheered on the enemy,

  We faced their arrows, while in front of us

  He prayed that they would be victorious—

  He cries and laughs at random, and this plainly

  Points to the fact he isn’t thinking sanely.

  Hard on the heels of when their troth is plighted

  Sorrow will come if these two are united—

  This cannot turn out well, you will be blamed,

  Her father will be wounded and ashamed.

  It’s best to extricate ourselves while we

  Retain some semblance of integrity.”

  And when Nofal weighed their advice, he saw

  That he and all his forces should withdraw.

  *

  Majnun was heartbroken, bereft, forlorn,

  Wounded within by this unlooked-for thorn;

  He said, “Today Good Fortune left my side,