OF UNION
ONE of the significant aspects of Love is Union. This is a lofty fortune, an exalted-rank, a sublime degree, a lucky star; nay more, it is life renewed, pleasure supreme, joy everlasting, and a grand mercy from Allah.
Were it not that this world below is a transitory abode of trial and trouble, and Paradise a home where virtue receives its reward, secure from all annoyances, I would have said that union with the beloved is that pure happiness which is without alloy, and gladness unsullied by sorrow, the perfect realization of hopes and the complete fulfillment of one's dreams.
I have tested all manner of pleasures, and known every variety of joy; and I have found that neither intimacy with princes, nor wealth acquired, nor finding after lacking, nor returning after long absence, nor security after fear and repose in a safe refuge none of these things so powerfully affects the soul as union with the beloved, especially if it come after long denial and continual banishment. For then the flame of passion waxes exceeding hot, and the furnace of yearning blazes up, and the fire of eager hope rages ever more fiercely. The fresh springing of herbs after the rains, the glitter of flowers when the night clouds have rolled away in the hushed hour between dawn and sunrise, the plashing of waters as they run through the stalks of golden blossoms, the exquisite beauty of white castles encompassed by verdant meadows not lovelier is any of these than union with the well-beloved, whose character is virtuous, and laudable her disposition, whose attributes are evenly matched in perfect beauty. Truly that is a miracle of wonder surpassing the tongues of the eloquent, and far beyond the range of the most cunning speech to describe: the mind reels before it, and the intellect stands abashed.
I have tried to express this in a poem.
How many years my age may be,
Seeing my temples silver now
And flecks of snow upon my brow.
This is the answer that I give
"When I count up the life I live
Applying all my reason's power,
I make the total just one hour."
"And how", my questioner replies
In accents of amazed surprise,
"Mak'st thou this sum, which seems to me
Beyond all credibility?"
"One day", I answer," she I love
All other earthly things above
Lay in my arms, and like a thought
Her lips with mine I swiftly sought.
"And though the years before I die
Stretch out interminably, I
Shall only count my life in truth
As that brief hour of happy youth."
There are two aspects of this situation. The first is the promise that the lover shall visit the beloved. I have a short poem on this topic, from which I will quote two stanzas.
The while she tarried, and it seemed
That in the radiance of its light
Some glimmer of her beauty gleamed.
And I was faithful to my troth,
And love was joined, and life was gay;
Sweet union laughed upon us both,
And dark estrangement slunk away.
The second aspect of this situation is when the lover is awaiting the promise that he may visit his beloved. Indeed, the preludes to union and the first stages of its fulfillment stir the depths of the heart in a manner quite unlike any other experience.
I know a man who was sore smitten with desire for a maiden inhabiting a residence close neighboring his own. He could come to her whenever he wished without let or hindrance; but no way was open to him to do more than gaze upon her and converse with her, for hours on end, by night if he liked or by day. At last the fates conspired to secure him some response, and made it possible for him to realize a measure of happiness, and that after he had quite despaired because of the weary time he had been waiting. I remember well how crazy and wellnigh delirious he was with delight; his speech was barely coherent, so overcome was he by joy. I commemorated the scene in the following poem.
God's pardon, as that lovely maid,
My Lord would have forgiven me
However sore I disobeyed.
Prayed I with equal earnestness
The desert lion to assuage
His wrath, as her my suit to bless,
No man need dread his baffled rage.
Long she denied my heart's desire,
Then ah! So ardent kisses pressed
Upon my lips, that all the fire
Of love rekindled in my breast.
So might some traveller athirst
Discovering waters after dearth
Drink, till the great potations burst
His lungs, then lifeless sink to earth.
I also wrote a second poem on the same subject, beginning in this fashion.
Like breath within my bone:
I pricked my eyes to view
Like horse to the hulloo.
I had a mistress fair:
She fled me everywhere,
Yet sometimes stealthily
She gave her lips to me.
I laid my lips on those,
And thought to find repose,
But felt within my breast
New pain and more unrest.
My heart did withered lie
Like herbage parched and dry
Whereon some casual hand
Will toss a flaming brand.
Later in this effusion the following stanza occurs.
Proud jewel of Cathay!
My ruby I acclaim,
My Andalusian flame.
I know of a young slave-girl who was ardently passionate for a certain youth, the son of a noble household, but he was ignorant of her sentiments. Great was her sorrow, and long her despair, so that she pined and wasted away for the love of him. He in all the pride of youthful indifference was quite unconscious of her suffering, which she was prevented from revealing to him by maidenly modesty; for she was a virgin unspotted, and moreover respected him too highly to surprise him with a declaration which for all she knew he might not find to his liking. As time went on, however, and the girl felt more and more certain of the state of her heart, she at last complained of her plight to a sagacious woman who enjoyed her confidence, for she was her old nurse. The latter said to her, " Hint at your feelings to him in verse." The girl did as she was advised, and that time after time; but the youth paid no attention whatsoever. It was not that he lacked intelligence and wit; quite the contrary; but he had no suspicion of her intention, that his imagination should be alert to look for hidden meanings in her words. Finally the girl's endurance was at an end; her emotions were insupportable. One night she w seated with him Me-a-tete; and God knows that he was most chaste and self-disciplined, very far indeed from committing any impropriety. Finding that she could no longer control her feelings, when she stood up to leave him she suddenly turned and kissed him on the mouth, then, without uttering a single word, coquettishly swaying she withdrew. I have tried to picture the scene in a poem.
This way and that she gently swayed
As a narcissus 'neath the trees
Swings on its stem before the breeze.
Deep in his heart the lover hears
The pendants hanging from her ears
Ring out a tender melody
"I love thee dearly: lov'st thou me?"
I pictured in her poise and grace
A dove that goes with perfect pace;
Not over slow he seems to move,
Nor undue hasty, to reprove.
The young man was stupefied, confused, quite overcome; his heart was deeply stirred; his spirit was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Hardly was she out of his sight when he found himself caught in the toils of destruction; his breast was all afire; he sighed and sighed. A multitude of fears assailed him; he was a prey to every apprehension; sleep deserted him, and all through the long night he tossed and turned unable to close his eyes. Such was the beginning of a love between them, which continued many moons, until the cruel hand of separation broke the cords of their perfect union. There you may say was a very Devil's trick, an incitement to passion no man could have withstood, unless he were under the protection of Allah the All-Powerful.
Some say that union too long enjoyed is fatal to love. That is a vile doctrine, advanced only by those who quickly tire of a sweet romance. On the contrary, the longer the union lasts the firmer the attachment becomes. Speaking for myself, I have never drunk deep of the waters of amorous union without my thirst raging all the more fiercely: such is the predicament of one who seeks to cure himself by applying as remedy the very sickness from which he is suffering the respite is immediate, but soon gone. I have reached, in mastery of those I have loved, the furthest attainable goals, beyond which no man may aim to achieve, and yet I have ever found myself desirous for more. I have enjoyed such exquisite pleasure a long while, and never experienced weariness nor been overtaken by lassitude.
One day I was seated in close company with a certain person I loved, and wherever I turned my thoughts, speculating on the many varieties of union, I found none that fell not short of my desire; all failed to satisfy my passion; not any accorded me fulfillment of even the least of my dreams. The nearer I approached my goal, the further my goal eluded me: the flintstone of yearning passion kindled the fire of anguish within my breast. I immortalized that interview in the following stanzas.
This solitude within my heart,
Then lay my love within the tear,
And stitch it up with tender care.
And with the morn I pray she shall
Look for no other place to dwell,
But fondly keep this little room
Her own, until the Day of Doom.
Here let her live, so long as I
Draw breath, and when I come to die
My heart for comfort may she crave
In the dark silence of the grave.
There is no situation in all the world that can compare with the happy state in which a pair o lovers find themselves, when they have none to spy upon them, when they are secure from slanderers and safe from separation, when they have no desire to turn away one from the other, and are far indeed from growing weary, when they are spared the attentions of reprovers, when their natures are perfectly attuned and they love each other with equal ardour, when Allah has bestowed on them abundant subsistence, complete tranquillity, and a season of peace, when their union is lawful, and blessed by Allah's approval, and when their association endures long and unbroken even to the day of death, which day none can thrust away nor escape. But that is a grace none has ever fully enjoyed, a need of the soul not granted to all who seek it. Were it not for the fact that this state is ever accompanied by the dread of sudden destined calamities, ordained in the hidden pandects of Allah, such as parting unpremeditated, or death ravishing the one or the other while yet in the flower of youth-were it not for these and like circumstances I would have said that union such as I have described is a state remote from all misfortune, secure against the intrusion of any catastrophe.
I have known men who have enjoyed all the aforementioned advantages in full, save that they had the single misfortune to find that the object of their affection was of a froward disposition, and coquettish in the consciousness that she was adored. Their life together was therefore never truly happy; not a day dawned without some dispute flaring up between them. Moreover both partners (as I have observed) suffered from the same defect of character, because each was confident of the other's love: and so they continued, until separation drew nigh to them and they were parted by death, that is the invariable rule of this transient world. I have expressed this matter in verse.
The mischief separation wreaks?
My loved one's ways are all the same
She ever separation seeks.
It would have been sufficient woe
Passion inflicted on my like
How shall I bear this double blow
Passion and separation strike?
It is related that Ziyad Ibn Abi Sufyan said one day to his courtiers, " What man enjoys the most blissful life? " " The Prince of the Faithful ", they replied. " But what of the trouble he suffers at the hands of the uraish? " " Then thou ", the courtiers suggested. " But what ", said Ziyad, " of the troubles I suffer at the hands of the Kharijis and at the outposts of the empire?" They said, "Then who is that man, 0 Prince? " He answered, " A good Moslem, married to a good Moslem wife, with sufficient means to provide for the two of them, satisfied with her and she with him, not knowing me, and I not knowing him."
Is there any lovely thing provoking the admiration of all creatures, that gladdens the heart, captivates the senses, charms the soul, dominates the passion, ravishes the reason, and snatches away the mind, comparable with the anxiety of the lover over the beloved? I have witnessed many situations of this sort; and indeed it is a wonderful spectacle, evoking the most tender compassion, especially if the romance be clandestine. If you could see the beloved subtly alluding when she is questioned as to the cause of her being angry with the lover, and his perplexity as he tries to extricate himself from his mishap by offering excuses, and how she willfully misinterprets him, and he contrives to invent some meaning in her words which he can offer to the bystanders-if you could be present at such a scene, you would truly behold a marvel, and a secret delight all other pleasures surpassing. I personally have never witnessed anything that so powerfully stirs the heart, so deeply plunges into its very life, and so subtly penetrates its vital spots.
Lovers in union have such plausible excuses to offer that baffle the sharpest intellects and defeat the most powerful minds. I have seen this on a number of occasions, and composed this poem to illustrate the point.
Truth to mix with lies,
With the fool the two
Pass for one, and true.
Yet between the twain
Is distinction plain,
And the man of sense
Notes their difference.
Silver fused with gold
Readily is sold
"Pure, without alloy"
To the foolish boy.
But if you prefer,
Try the jeweller
He will tell for sure
Counterfeit from pure.
I know a boy and a girl who were extremely fond of each other. When intruders were present, they would recline together with one of those large cushions between them against which important personages are invited to rest their backs on the divan. Their heads would meet behind the cushion, and each would be kissing the other without being seen. To all appearances they would be stretched out in this way simply because they were weary. Their equally reciprocated love assumed vast proportions, so that the youth sometimes comported himself with arrogance towards the girl. On this topic I have the following stanzas.
Of miracle,
Surprising each
To ear and speech
Mounts that prefer
The boot and spur,
And givers who
Their askers woo.
The captive glowers,
The captor cowers
The slain assails,
The slayer pales.
But ne'er till now
I heard of how
Fond hope may thrill
To yearner's will.
Methinks there is
One rule in this
Objects obey
What agents say!
I have been told by a woman in whom I have every confidence that she once saw a youth and a maiden, each excessively passionate for the other, who were come together joyously in a certain spot. The youth had in his hand a knife, with which he was cutting some fruit; he pressed with it too hard, and inflicted a light wound on his thumb, which began to bleed. Now the girl was wearing a silk jacket of gold tissue, very costly; she with a quick turn of her hand tore off a strip of the precious material, and bound up the boy's thumb with it. For a lover to act like this is a small matter, compared with his proper obligations; it is a bounden duty, a law requiring his obedience. And indeed how should it be otherwise, seeing that he has devoted his life and bestowed his soul as an offering to the beloved, and how can he refuse anything after yielding these?
I once knew the daughter of Zakariya' Ibn Yahya al-Taminu, better known as Ibn Bartal; she was the niece of the Chief Justice of Cordova, Muhammad Ibn Yahya, whose brother, the vizier-general, was killed by Ghalib together with two other commanders in the celebrated Battle of the Border (the names of these commanders were Marwan Ibn Ahmad Ibn Shahid, and Yusuf Ibn Sa'id al-'Akki). Now this lady was married to Yahya Ibn Muhammad, whose grandfather was the vizier Yahya Ibn Ishaq; her husband was surprised by death while the couple were still in the bloom of their joy and the flower of their happiness. She was so overcome by grief, that on the night he died she slept with him under a single blanket; so she took her last fond'; farewell of him, and of the union which had brought her so much gladness. Her sorrow did not depart from her thereafter, even up to the day of her death.
Union surreptitiously snatched, hoodwinking the spies, in which precautions are taken against intruders, such as smothered laughter, admonitory coughing, gesturing with the hands, pressing against one another's sides, touching hands and feet-all this affects the soul most deliciously. I have these verses on the matter.
Far beyond the common measure
From a steady match extracted,
Union openly enacted.
Mingled with its joy delightful
Is a caution truly frightful,
Such as his whose march embraces
Solid rock and sandy places.
I was told by a comrade, a most trustworthy man who comes from one of the best families, that he was smitten when a boy with a violent passion for a slave-girl attached to a house belonging to his people. He was strictly barred from coming to her, and was at the same time quite crazy for her. " One day ", he told me, "we went on an excursion to one of our estates in the plain to the west of Cordova; one of my uncles was accompanying us. We sauntered through the orchards until we were far away from human habitation, and stretched at our ease by the banks of streams. Suddenly the sky clouded over, and rain began to fall. We had not sufficient coverings with us to protect the whole party; and so my uncle ordered a servant to bring a wrap, threw it over me, and then told the girl to cover herself up with me. Picture me, as you will, enjoying full possession under the very eyes of the multitude, and they entirely unaware! Blissful reunion that was virtually a privacy, happy party that was indistinguishable from a tete-a-fete! By Allah, I have never forgotten that day." I can still see him as he told me the story, laughing in every limb and positively quivering with merriment, despite the long interval, which had passed since the adventure took place. I wrote this stanza to sum up the escapade.
The clouds wept many a tear,
As when a lovesick boy
Beholds his darling near.
A novel instance of union is well illustrated by a story I was told by one of my friends. He had a passion for a certain girl living in a nearby apartment; between his apartment and hers there was a vantage point from which the one could look out on the other. She used to stand and wait for him in that place, there being some little distance between them, and greet him with her hand wrapped in her blouse. He asked her one-day why she did this, and she replied, " Possibly an inkling may be gained of what we are about, and then some other person may wait for you here instead of me and wave to you; and you might return the greeting, and so our friend's suspicions would be confirmed. So let this be the token between us; if you see a bare hand signalling a greeting in your direction, be sure that it is not my hand, and do not reply."
Sometimes union is found to be so pleasurable, and the lovers' hearts are in such perfect concord, that they act quite recklessly, paying no heed to any who may Reprove them, taking no care to conceal their attachment from any guardian, and troubling not at all if the talebearer be at work. Indeed in such circumstances a reproach act as a positive incitement.
I will conclude this chapter by quoting a few verses, which I have composed on the subject of union.
Love's flame,
And what all moths discover, found
The same!
Again:
The sweet incitements of desire
Would unto Union go,
As nightbound wayfarers aspire
Towards the campfire's glow.
Again:
Oft union with my love assuaged
Love's flames that in my bowels raged,
As dying men by drought accursed
In living waters slake their thirst.
Again:
Fix not thy glance, nor gaze agape
For ever on one lovely shape,
For Beauty is unlimited
Through all the world her boundaries spread.
Finally I quote an extract from a longer poem.
Blood-wit for him that Love doth slay,
Or their redeeming ransom bring
Whom passion is imprisoning.
Or has my destiny in store
That I may come to her once more,
And live again the day we spent
Beside the stream in merriment?
All day those waters sweet at will
I swam, and yet I thirsted still:
O passing strange, my limbs to drench
Yet not my raging thirst to quench!
Dear mistress, I am wasted so
By Love's consuming pains, that lo,
My sick-bed visitors descry
No sign at all where I may lie.
How then, where others failed indeed
To see a way, did Love succeed
This anguished sufferer to find
Invisible to all mankind?
My doctor, who would cure my ails,
Grows weary of the task, and fails,
While even those who envied me
Feel pity for my malady.
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