IX. The Poor Scenite Arab and his Wife.
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Jalal al-Din Rumi, Maulana and Redhouse, James W. (James William), Sir
Old prejudice, quite purblind to the truth, I see,
A hundred phantoms conjures up to frighten me.
Not every man has heard aright the still small voice;
Not every bird’s a fig-pecker, that sweets rejoice;
How then a bird that’s dead,—turned putrid long ago;—
A man of prejudice, all sightless, eyeless, so!
A painted fish cares not for water, or for land.
Soap to a blackamoor is one, or tar, in hand.
Shouldst thou depict a portrait overwhelmed with grief,
Would grief or joy be felt, though shown in strong relief?525
The picture would look sorrowful;—no sorrow feel;
Or smiling happiness;—without gay laughter’s peal.
The joy or grief depicted by a pencil’s art,
Is naught but simulated;—knows nor thrill, nor smart.
Lugubrious countenances are for our behoof;
That we may be reminded not to court reproof.
And beaming visages are not without their use,
If they recall us from mere form to sense occluse.
The various effigies we see in this bath-house,318
Disguised in draperies, are dolls;—blind fools to chouse.530
So long as thou’rt outside, naught else but clothes thou’lt see.
Undress thyself. Come in; and see the nude, the free.
There’s no admission granted to a bath, while dressed.
But clothes, the body, this, the soul, leave all unguessed.
Our Arab man, from far in desert’s sandy waste,
Has reached at length the walls of Bagdād,—home of taste.
The guards, the officers, on duty at the gate,
Received him with politeness, kindness delicate.
Without a question asked, his case they’d understood.
Their charge was to show kindness first, ere asked for food.535
So they addressed him thus: “Ho, thou, good Arab prince!
Whence comest thou? How fares it? Straight thy wish evince!”
He answered: “Prince I am, if you to me be kind;
But if you me contemn, I’m naught in my own mind.
Your aspects indicate you’re men of wealth and rank;
Your speech and smiles betoken breeding, noble, frank.
Mere sight of your kind features salve is to the eyes;
Your looks alone enrich;—gold in your voices lies.
Each one of you expression is of God’s own grace;
In Caliph’s bosom nurtured, favoured with high place;540