How oft shall they admonish and ye shun this nourishment; ✿ When e’en the shepherd’s bidding is obeyèd by his flocks?
I see you like in shape and form to creatures whom we term ✿ Mankind, but in your acts and deeds you are a sort of ox.”[[329]]
The Shaykh laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him. Then cried she to him, “I desire of thee a lute.” So he arose and brought her a bit of fuel.[[330]] Quoth she, “What is that?” and quoth he “Didst thou not say: Bring me fuel?” Said she, “I do not want this,” and said he, “What then is it that is hight fuel, other than this?” She laughed and replied, “The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing.” Asked he, “Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?” and answered she, “Of him who gave thee the wine.” So he arose and betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him “Thou favouredst us before with the wine; so now complete thy favours and look me out a thing hight lute, which be an instrument for singing; for she seeketh this of me and I know it not.” Replied the Jew, “Hearkening and obedience,” and going into his house, brought him a lute. The old man carried it to Sitt al-Milah, whilst the Jew took his drink and sat by a window adjoining the Shaykh’s house, so he might hear the singing. The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang these couplets:—
Remains not, after you are gone, or trace of you or sign, ✿ But hope to see this parting end and break its lengthy line:
You went and by your wending made the whole world desolate; ✿ And none may stand this day in stead to fill the yearning eyne.
Indeed, you’ve burdened weakling me, by strength and force of you ✿ With load no hill hath power t’upheave nor yet the plain low li’en:
And I, whenever fain I scent the breeze your land o’erbreathes, ✿ Lose all my wits as though they were bemused with heady wine.
O folk no light affair is Love for lover woe to dree ✿ Nor easy ’tis to satisfy its sorrow and repine.
I’ve wandered East and West to hap upon your trace, and when ✿ Springcamps I find the dwellers cry, “They’ve marched, those friends o’ thine!”
Never accustomed me to part these intimates I love; ✿ Nay, when I left them all were wont new meetings to design.