Moorish Literature Part 36

I've placed myself among you, so that I May not incur your blame, O brothers mine.

I've told you my deformity, and all My miseries unveiled before your gaze.

SONG OF FATIMA[1]

My spirit is in pain, for it cannot Forget my sweet gazelle, with eyes so black.

A fire burns in my heart, and all my frame But wastes and withers. Where's thy cure, O Taleb?

I find no medicine that cureth love, In vain I search. Sweet Fatima's the cause Of all my woes, with _khelkal_ tinted blue.

My heart endureth pa.s.sion's pangs, my grief Continues. Where's thy remedy, O Taleb?

Thy remedy is lost, my good Lord Taleb.

Pray G.o.d for me, O Taleb, I implore.

But how to cure the malady of love?

There is no remedy, and all is lost.

I die for lack of strength to bear my trials.

It is to thee that I intrust myself, The healer who must bring rest to my heart; For now a living brand burns in my breast.

If thou art skilful, find a cure for me.

[1] This elegy is the work of a celebrated sheik of Tlemcen, Mahomet-Ben-Sahla, whose period was the first half of the eighteenth century. He left a son, Ben Medien, a poet, too, and his descendants still live, near Tlemcen, in a village called Feddan-es-Seba.

Look in thy book and calculate for me If thou canst quench the burning brand within.

I will become thy slave, and thou may'st keep Me or at auction sell. Where is thy cure!

Thy remedy is lost, my good Lord Taleb.

The Taleb looked at me and said: "Take heart, O lover, courage! Thou hast sipped, I see, The cup of death already, and thou hast Not long to live. But hear my counsel now.

Have patience! Tis the only thing that will Sustain thee. Thou shalt thus obtain the gifts Of Him who only knows thy future days.

Thy fate shall be unrolled according to The will of G.o.d, the sovereign Lord most high.

"Turn to thy G.o.d. Beseech him constantly.

He hears with mercy and he knows all souls.

He turns away no one who comes to him.

He sees the bottom of their hearts, and lists.

Bear his decrees with patience camels show.

They walk from land to land and hope to lose At last their burdens." Where's thy cure, O Taleb?

Thy remedy is lost, my good Lord Taleb.

O Taleb, search within thy book and find The letters that give birth to friendship sweet.

Write them for me, and skilful be, I pray, So G.o.d may give me happiness by them, And cause my dear gazelle to pardon me, And drive nay bitter sorrows all away.

My punishment too long has lasted. I Am tired of waiting. Never was adventure More strange than mine.

My cares continue, and I am fatigued with efforts obstinate.

The trouble that I've taken to deserve That pretty one, has been for me like that Of daring merchant who doth undertake A venture and gets nothing back but loss And weariness. Where is thy cure, O Taleb?

Thy remedy is lost, my good Lord Taleb.

The Taleb answered unto me and said: "Support her rigors. Listen now to me, And I will give thee counsel sound and good.

Turn thy true heart aside from memory.

Forget thy love as she's forgotten thee.

Courage! Her loss now wastes and makes thee pale.

For her thou hast neglected everything.

And sacrificed a good part of thy days.

"My counsels heed and turn me not aside.

Hear what sages in their proverbs say: 'That which is bitter never can turn sweet,'

'Leave him whose intercourse is troublesome, And cleave to one who hath an easy way,'

'Endure the pangs of love until they pa.s.s,'"

Where is thy cure, O Taleb? Tell me where.

Thy remedy is lost, O good Lord Taleb.

If thou art powerful, Taleb, my excuse Accept, and give a.s.sistance to my cause.

Thy words are all in vain, they but increase My woes. For ne'er can I forget my love, My dear accomplished beauty. While I live, I love her, queen of beauties, and she is Soul of my soul, light of my eyes, my sweet.

And, oh, how grows my love! A slave I'd be, Obedient to a man despised. Perhaps That which is far removed, the nearest comes.

And if the moment comes, thou know'st it well Who knoweth all the proverbs! He that's well Shall perish, and the invalid be cured.

Where is thy cure, O Taleb? Tell me where.

Thy remedy is lost, my good Lord Taleb.

And then the Taleb answered him and said: "Thou'rt taken in the snares of Qeys--thou know'st.

He laid strong siege to Leyla's heart and then Awaited trembling at the trysting-place.

Thou now hast wooed thy love for two long years And she will not relent, nor speak to thee.

G.o.d bless us both!"

The Lord is generous.

He sees. If trouble comes, he'll make it pa.s.s.

My lot is sad and I am full of fear.

The mountains tall would melt and turn to sand If I to them my sorrows should relate.

Where is thy cure, O Taleb? Tell me where.

Thy remedy is lost, O good Lord Taleb.

O Taleb, should I tell my tale of grief Unto a sabre of the Ind, 'twould melt On hearing my laments. My heart cannot Endure these tortures, and my breast's on fire.

My tale is finished, here I end my song, And publish forth my name along with it; It is Ben Sahla. I do not conceal How I am called, and in my black despair I do not cease my lamentations loud.

O ye who have experienced the stings Of love, excuse me now and blame me not In this affair. I know that I shall die, O'ercome by woe. The doctor of my heart Protracts my suffering. He cures me not, Nor yet cuts short the thread of my sad life.

Where is thy cure, O Taleb? Tell me where.

Thy remedy is lost, O good Lord Taleb.

THE CITY GIRL AND THE COUNTRY GIRL

O thou who hearest me, I will recite One of these stories I am master of-- A tale that's true. By these I move the hearts Of lovers like to thee, and I divert Their minds with pleasant stories. As I hear, So I relate them, and they please my friends, By flow of wit and eloquence of thought.

I tell of beauties' battle. And my song Is written in perfection, straight and clear.

Thinking of naught I walked along one day When I had gone to see some beauties fair Whose like I ne'er have seen in city nor In country yet. I should have said That they were sun and moon, and that the girls Of that time were bright stars surpa.s.sing far The Pleiades. The stars are envious In their far firmaments, each of The other. That's the reason why we see Eclipses of the sun and moon.

My tale Is true. The women, like unto the stars, Are jealous also. Two young virgins met The day I saw them, a sad day for them, For one was jealous of the other one.