An earless lion’s not so bad. Cut short the rhyme.”
Anew the artist on a part assayed his hand.
Afresh the bully interfered, by pain unmanned.
“What part art now at work on? Say, my worthy friend!”
“O,” said the artist, “now his body I append.”65
“Leave out his body!” gasped the suffering Qazwīn man;
“The pain’s unbearable. Make short work, as thou can.”
The artist now quite lost his wits, as well he might;
He scratched his head; sought how to mend his plight;
Dashed all his needles, indigo, design, to earth;