DESCRIPTION OF GREEK WOMEN

Ah! her cheek doth rob the fair sun of its sight,And her sweet grace envy brings to Venus bright.Like to moons are the Circassian damsels fair;Whatso’er the lover seeks he findeth there.Like to tall palm-trees their slender forms in grace,Or a ladder to the clear moon of the face.With the two feet of the eyes doth one ascend,But the vision of the mind too one must bend.Since their lips and cheeks are taverns of wine,Is it strange their eyes inebriate should shine?Since like rubies are created their two lips,Doubly seared the lover’s heart, like the tulip’s.Since their bodies are distilled from moon and sun,How an equal to their pure frame find can one?Though they lovelier than Georgians may be,Still in Georgians one will great attractions see.Closely curtained sit they all in virtue’s place;Pure of skirt is ever this unrivalled race;Pure and free from stain is every act of theirs;Not a soil the vestment of their honor bears;Marked with chastity indeed, of noble heart,Ever seeking to fulfil the righteous part;Bright with bounty and fidelity and sense,How that blessèd nature glows with light intense!Think not with this race that any can compareUpon earth, unless it be the Georgian fair.Fāzil Beg.

Fāzil Beg.

Oh! thou the Bell upon the church of pain!Thou the Pride of all the Messianic train!Source of being! if a mistress thou should seek,Then, I pray thee, let thy loved one be a Greek.Unto her the fancies of the joyous bend,For there’s leave to woo the Grecian girl, my friend.Caskets of coquetry are the Grecian maids,And their grace the rest of womankind degrades.What that slender waist so delicate and slight!What those gentle words the sweet tongue doth indite!What those blandishments, that heart-attracting talk!What that elegance, that heart-attracting walk!What that figure, as the cypress tall and free—In the park of God’s creation a young tree!What those attitudes, those motions, wondrous fair!What that glance inebriate that showeth there!Given those disdainful airs to her alone,And her legacy that accent and that tone.All those letters on her sweet tongue’s tip are rolled,And those words with many graces she’ll unfold;Strung the regal pearls of her enchanting speech,Pounded seem they when her gentle mouth they reach;To her tongue if come a letter harsh to say,Then her sweet mouth causeth it to melt away;Her mouth would fain the words conserve in sooth,For her mouth is speech-conserves in very truth;Speaking parrots are they surely one and all,To their portion doth the birdies’ language fall.With a thousand graces saith her rosebud lip:“Zee vine, O noble Lord, vill zou no sip?When thy glass is empty, fill it full again,To my love drink, O my Pacha, drink amain!”To the soul add life her ways and charms so dear,Surely thus is it a mistress should appear.E’en the old misogynist would conquered be,Saw he yonder maid, uxorious were he.So symmetrical the line her body shows,One would it a balanced hemistich suppose.Other women seek to imitate her grace,As their pride and frontispiece she holds her place.What that figure tall, and what that graceful mien!Fair-proportioned is her body ever seen.Moving lithely, she from side to side will turn,That the hearts of all her lovers she may burn.That cap which on one side she gayly wears;That jaunty step; those joyous heedless airs;Those motions—they are just what me delight;And her tripping on two toes—how fair a sight!’Twere as though with fire her pathway were inlaid,That would burn the feet of yonder moon-like maid.Thou wouldst deem her lovers’ hearts upon her way,Burning with their love for her, all scattered lay.. . . . . . . . . .Is’t herself they call “Qoqona” let us see?Or her locks?—how wondrous sweet their odors be!As the sash trails on the ground beneath thy feet,So will she thy feet salute with kisses sweet.Misbeliever, thou dost sense steal from the heart;Torment thou—I know not what a Woe thou art;Know not I if thou behūrīorperī,Know not I of Mary what is found in thee;Art thou Mary’s, child of ‘Imrān’s, rosebud bright?Of the dwelling of the monks art thou the light?Envy bearing to her hinna-crimsoned hand,Doth the red egg covered o’er with blushes stand.With the Greek cannot thy genus e’er compare,Deem I, be thou genius orhūrīfair!Fāzil Beg.

Fāzil Beg.

OthouNīrem, battle-waging, of the world’s fierce field of fight!O thou Sām, fell dragon-visaged, of the age’s plain of might!Thou art he in whom the favors of the Lord Most High unite;Earth and ocean thou hast conquered, waging war on left and right!Gold, in Islām’s cause, thou pouredst like to water down a height;Legions like the Nile on Egypt’s shore thou madest to alight.With thy sabre’s blow right fiercely thou the foeman’s head didst smite;Giddy made thy sword the misbelievers’ chieftains with affright.Midst the earth’s oak-grove a valiant lion like to thee in might,Since the days of Rustem, ne’er hath passed beneath the Heavens’ sight.“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”Lion! Alexander! had he seen that battle thou didst gain,Crown and throne to thee to offer Key-Qubād were surely fain!O most noble! thou a Vezīr to such fame that dost attain,That the God of Hosts did surely Lord of Fortune thee ordain!Like to flame, the fiery blast scathed foemen’s lives, it blazed amain;Threw’st thou, cinder-like, the misbelievers’ ashes o’er the plain.“Conqueror of the Nations’ Mother” as thy title should be ta’en;Since thou’st saved the Nations’ Mother, all the nations joy again.Wishing long ago, ’twould seem, to sing thy splendid glory’s strain,Nef‘ī wrote for thee this couplet—for thy deeds a fit refrain:“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”When the misbelieving Frenchman sudden swooped on Egypt’s land,Thither was the army’s leader sent by the Great King’s command;But at length o’erthrown and vanquished by the foe his luckless band,Then thou wentest and the vile foe scatter’dst wide on every hand;Then, when they thy lightning-flashing, life-consuming cannon scanned,Knew the hell-doomed misbelievers vain were all things they had planned.Hundred vezīrs, joy-attended, countless foemen did withstand;Day and night, three years the misbelievers fought they brand to brand;Worn and wretched fell those at thy feet, and quarter did demand:It beseems thee, howsoever high in glory thou mayst stand!“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”Through this joy beneath thy shade the world doth its desires behold;With thy praises eloquent the tongues of all, both young and old.Thou to Faith and Empire then didst render services untoldHurling down to earth the foeman’s house in one assault right bold!O Vezīr! Jem-high! think not that flattery my words enfold;Though a poet, not with false or vaunting boasts I’ve thee extolled.Midst the fight for Egypt’s conquest firm in stirrup was thy hold,Under thy Egyptian charger trod’st thou foemen like the mould.From the handle of thy sword, like water, down the red blood rolled;Thou the foe mad’st turn his face, mill-like, in terror uncontrolled.“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”Those who sing thy glories, like to Wāsif, wildered aye must be;Sayeth Wāsif: “None on earth like Huseyn Pacha I shall see.”If there be who has in vision seen a peerless one like thee,As a dream all void of meaning, let him it relate to me.Cannon-ball like, ’gainst the foe thou threw’st thyself from terror free;Like the winter blast thou mad’st the foeman shake in front of thee.Claim to manliness forsaking, even as the blind was he,Sword in hand despairing stood he, like to one who naught can see;Quick his throat thou seizedst, like the dragon direful in his glee,’Neath thy sabre’s wave thou drown’dst the misbeliever, like the sea!“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”Wāsif.

Lion! Alexander! had he seen that battle thou didst gain,Crown and throne to thee to offer Key-Qubād were surely fain!O most noble! thou a Vezīr to such fame that dost attain,That the God of Hosts did surely Lord of Fortune thee ordain!Like to flame, the fiery blast scathed foemen’s lives, it blazed amain;Threw’st thou, cinder-like, the misbelievers’ ashes o’er the plain.“Conqueror of the Nations’ Mother” as thy title should be ta’en;Since thou’st saved the Nations’ Mother, all the nations joy again.Wishing long ago, ’twould seem, to sing thy splendid glory’s strain,Nef‘ī wrote for thee this couplet—for thy deeds a fit refrain:“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”

When the misbelieving Frenchman sudden swooped on Egypt’s land,Thither was the army’s leader sent by the Great King’s command;But at length o’erthrown and vanquished by the foe his luckless band,Then thou wentest and the vile foe scatter’dst wide on every hand;Then, when they thy lightning-flashing, life-consuming cannon scanned,Knew the hell-doomed misbelievers vain were all things they had planned.Hundred vezīrs, joy-attended, countless foemen did withstand;Day and night, three years the misbelievers fought they brand to brand;Worn and wretched fell those at thy feet, and quarter did demand:It beseems thee, howsoever high in glory thou mayst stand!“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”

Through this joy beneath thy shade the world doth its desires behold;With thy praises eloquent the tongues of all, both young and old.Thou to Faith and Empire then didst render services untoldHurling down to earth the foeman’s house in one assault right bold!O Vezīr! Jem-high! think not that flattery my words enfold;Though a poet, not with false or vaunting boasts I’ve thee extolled.Midst the fight for Egypt’s conquest firm in stirrup was thy hold,Under thy Egyptian charger trod’st thou foemen like the mould.From the handle of thy sword, like water, down the red blood rolled;Thou the foe mad’st turn his face, mill-like, in terror uncontrolled.“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”Those who sing thy glories, like to Wāsif, wildered aye must be;Sayeth Wāsif: “None on earth like Huseyn Pacha I shall see.”If there be who has in vision seen a peerless one like thee,As a dream all void of meaning, let him it relate to me.Cannon-ball like, ’gainst the foe thou threw’st thyself from terror free;Like the winter blast thou mad’st the foeman shake in front of thee.Claim to manliness forsaking, even as the blind was he,Sword in hand despairing stood he, like to one who naught can see;Quick his throat thou seizedst, like the dragon direful in his glee,’Neath thy sabre’s wave thou drown’dst the misbeliever, like the sea!“Bravo! Champion of the Epoch! rending ranks in serried fight!O’er the ‘Arsh hang now thy sabre, sparkling like the Pleiads bright!”

Wāsif.

ORosebudof joy’s flowery lea!O graceful one with step so free!If thou wilt yield thee not to me,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.Behold my breast, by guile unprest,Is’t not mid thousand treasures best?Until thou tak’st me to thy breast,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.O Rose-leaf fresh! concealed from sightWith thee till morn a livelong nightIf I may not enjoy delight,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.Yearning for union fills my soul,Patience and peace have no control;O wanton one! my longing’s goal!On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.Seek, Wāsif, her who hearts doth snareYon maid with bosom silver-fair;Until thou thither dost repair,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.Wāsif.

ORosebudof joy’s flowery lea!O graceful one with step so free!If thou wilt yield thee not to me,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.

Behold my breast, by guile unprest,Is’t not mid thousand treasures best?Until thou tak’st me to thy breast,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.

O Rose-leaf fresh! concealed from sightWith thee till morn a livelong nightIf I may not enjoy delight,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.

Yearning for union fills my soul,Patience and peace have no control;O wanton one! my longing’s goal!On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.

Seek, Wāsif, her who hearts doth snareYon maid with bosom silver-fair;Until thou thither dost repair,On earth the glass of mirth and gleeTo me’s forbid, apart from thee.

Wāsif.

Towhom that wine-red ruby’s shownIs captive by those locks o’erthrown;’Tis meet like nightingale I moan:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.Unmatched yon maid with waist so spare,Unrivalled too her wanton air;Her ways than e’en herself more fair:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.The roses like her cheeks are few;That rose—blush-pink its darling hue;This summer ere the roses blew,A lovely Scio Rose is blown.The rose—the nightingale’s amaze;The rose the nightingale dismays;A smile of hers the world outweighs:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.O Wāsif, on the rosy lea,The nightingale thus spake to me:“Be joyful tidings now to thee—A lovely Scio Rose is blown.”Wāsif.

Towhom that wine-red ruby’s shownIs captive by those locks o’erthrown;’Tis meet like nightingale I moan:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

Unmatched yon maid with waist so spare,Unrivalled too her wanton air;Her ways than e’en herself more fair:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

The roses like her cheeks are few;That rose—blush-pink its darling hue;This summer ere the roses blew,A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

The rose—the nightingale’s amaze;The rose the nightingale dismays;A smile of hers the world outweighs:A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

O Wāsif, on the rosy lea,The nightingale thus spake to me:“Be joyful tidings now to thee—A lovely Scio Rose is blown.”

Wāsif.

Althoughmy heart the truth of Those who wrong themselves doth show, O Lord!In virtue of the words Do not despair, Thy love bestow, O Lord!Beside the mead of truth and calm make aye my soul to go, O Lord!My virtue’s rose to tint and scent as captive do not throw, O Lord!From vain attachments’ stain wash pure and clean my heart as snow, O Lord!Against me place not Thou the loathsome pool of lies of foe, O Lord!The burning pain of exile no relief can ever know, O Lord!Enow, if Thou the camphor-salve, the dawn of hope, did show, O Lord!Thy slave is Rāmiz; unto none save Thee doth he bend low, O Lord!Before Thy mercy’s gate his tears from eyes and eyelids flow, O Lord!Rāmiz Pacha.

Rāmiz Pacha.

Afterold rags longing hath the figure tall and slight of Love?Fresh and fresh renews itself aye the brocade fire-bright of Love.’Gainst the flames from thorns and thistles ne’er a curtain can be wove,Nor ’neath honor’s veil can hide the public shame, the blight of Love.Through a needle’s eye it sometimes vieweth far-off Hindustān—Blind anon in its own country is the piercing sight of Love.It will turn it to a ruin where naught save the owl may dwell,In a home should chance be set the erring foot of plight of Love.Will a single spark a hundred thousand homes consume at times:One to me are both the highest and the lowest site of Love.Never saw I one who knoweth—O most ignorant am I!Yet doth each one vainly deem himself a learned wight in Love.Rent and shattered—laid in ruins—all my caution’s fortress vastHave my evil Fate, my heart’s black grain, the rage, the blight of Love.In its hell alike it tortures Mussulmān and infidel,‘Izzet, is there chance of freedom from its pangs, this plight of Love?Of reality hath made aware the seeker after Truth,Showing lessons metaphoric, He, the Teacher bright, St. Love!’Izzet Molla.

’Izzet Molla.

ThatI’m fall’n her conquered slave, yon maiden bright feigns not to know;Thus pretending, she who doth the soul despite feigns not to know.Though I fail naught in her service, she doth me as alien treat;Know not I why yonder Darling, earth’s Delight, feigns not to know.If I dare to speak my eager longing those her lips to kiss,Friendship she disclaims, in sooth with cruel slight feigns not to know.That she whets her glance’s arrow and therewith doth pierce the heart,E’en her bow-like eyebrow, yonder Ban of might feigns not to know.Well the loved one knows the Sphere doth keep no faithful troth; but, ah!How she copies it, that Heart-ensnarer bright feigns not to know.There is ne’er a refuge, ‘Adlī, from the grief of rivals’ taunts;I my love conceal not, still yon maiden slight feigns not to know.’Adlī.

’Adlī.

‘Andelīb, th’ adopted sister, from this transient world hath flown,Yonder midst the flowers of Eden while still in her youth to stray.No physician, neither charmer, on the earth her pain could ease;So that youthful beauty bided not to smile on earth’s mead gay.With her two-and-twenty summers, cypress-like was she, ah me!But the sullen blast of autumn smote her life’s bright, lovely May.For its tyranny and rancor might have blushed the vile, hard Sphere,As the sister of earth’s Monarch pined in grief without allay.Though her kind friend never parted from her eye’s sweet, gentle beam,Still did she to God her soul yield, and the call, Return, obey.Down the wayward Sphere hath stricken that bright Jewel to the earth;What avail though men and angels tears of blood shed in dismay?Length of days to that great Sultan grant may He, the God of Truth!And yon fair Pearl’s tomb make rival His own Eden’s bright display!With the dotted letters, Leylā, thou the year tell’st of her death—Calm among delightsome bowers may ‘Andelīb her nest array!Leylā Khānim.

Leylā Khānim.

’Tis yonder Darling of my soul that wildering my sense o’er-throws;My waving Cypress ’tis that freshness to the garden doth disclose;The bird, my heart, my gardener is in Love’s fair parterre of the rose:Mine eyes’ field with thy cheek’s reflection as my flowery orchard shows;For long my heart the picture of thy palm-like figure doth enclose.The world seems in my eyes as prison that doth my dear love control;Through love for thee my heart acquireth many a scar, and that’s the whole;From hour to hour thine absence makes my tears like rushing waters roll:The heart bows down through grief for thee, and constant weeps the life, the soul;The fountain of this vineyard is the stream that from my weeping flows.As well thou know’st, through fire of love for thee how sad my plight of woe,My smiling Rosebud, wilt thou ne’er a glance of pity toward me throw?My sighs and wailings thou dost see, Oh, but for once compassion show:Through gazing on the rose and bower, my heart repose shall never know,The ward where doth my loved one dwell alone can yield my soul repose.Oh, how I think upon thy box-tree form in sorrow’s night so drear!My story would Mejnūn’s and Ferhād’s tales from mind make disappear.My groans and sighs and wails thus high do I unto the Heavens uprear,By reason of the sparks my sighings raise that steely bowl, the Sphere,Revolves each night, my gold-enamelled beaker at the feast of woes.From thought of yonder witching eye my heart is ne’er a moment free;When flow thy tears recall not thou to mind, O Leylā, ‘Omān’s Sea.Beneath thy shade my own heart’s blood is all that hath been gained by me:My tears, an ocean vast; my lashes, coral branches, O Bāqī!The mem’ry, ’tis of thy palm-form that as my Judas-tree bright glows.Leylā Khānim.

The world seems in my eyes as prison that doth my dear love control;Through love for thee my heart acquireth many a scar, and that’s the whole;From hour to hour thine absence makes my tears like rushing waters roll:The heart bows down through grief for thee, and constant weeps the life, the soul;The fountain of this vineyard is the stream that from my weeping flows.

As well thou know’st, through fire of love for thee how sad my plight of woe,My smiling Rosebud, wilt thou ne’er a glance of pity toward me throw?My sighs and wailings thou dost see, Oh, but for once compassion show:Through gazing on the rose and bower, my heart repose shall never know,The ward where doth my loved one dwell alone can yield my soul repose.

Oh, how I think upon thy box-tree form in sorrow’s night so drear!My story would Mejnūn’s and Ferhād’s tales from mind make disappear.My groans and sighs and wails thus high do I unto the Heavens uprear,By reason of the sparks my sighings raise that steely bowl, the Sphere,Revolves each night, my gold-enamelled beaker at the feast of woes.

From thought of yonder witching eye my heart is ne’er a moment free;When flow thy tears recall not thou to mind, O Leylā, ‘Omān’s Sea.Beneath thy shade my own heart’s blood is all that hath been gained by me:My tears, an ocean vast; my lashes, coral branches, O Bāqī!The mem’ry, ’tis of thy palm-form that as my Judas-tree bright glows.

Leylā Khānim.

Ourhopes, our thoughts, are for the weal of our dear native land;Our bodies form the rampart strong to guard our frontier strand:We’re Ottomans—a gory shroud our robe of honor grand.“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.The name of Ottoman with terror doth the hearer thrill;The glories of our valiant fathers all the wide world fill;Think not that nature changeth—nay, this blood is yon blood still.“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.A sabre on a blood-red field—our banner famed behold!Fear in our country dwelleth not, in mountain or in wold:In every corner of our land croucheth a lion bold.“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.Then let the cannon roar, and shower its flames on every side!For those our brothers brave let Heaven ope its portals wide!What have we found on earth that one from death should flee or hide?“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.Ref’et Beg.

The name of Ottoman with terror doth the hearer thrill;The glories of our valiant fathers all the wide world fill;Think not that nature changeth—nay, this blood is yon blood still.“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.

A sabre on a blood-red field—our banner famed behold!Fear in our country dwelleth not, in mountain or in wold:In every corner of our land croucheth a lion bold.“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.

Then let the cannon roar, and shower its flames on every side!For those our brothers brave let Heaven ope its portals wide!What have we found on earth that one from death should flee or hide?“God is Most Great!” we shout in rush and charge on field of fight;We’re Ottomans! our lives we give, our gain is glory bright.

Ref’et Beg.

Atavernwhich each moment takes a life as pleasure’s pay is earth;A glass which for a thousand souls doth sell each drop of spray is earth.The world’s a Magian that adores the flame of power and fortune high;If thou should brightly shine, a moth about thy taper’s ray is earth.Anon one is, anon is not—thus ever runs the course of time;From end to end a warning-fraught, a strange, romantic lay is earth,’Twixt sense and frenzy ’tis indeed right hard to draw the sund’ring line,Ah me! if understanding’s wise, demented sooth alway is earth.The desolation of the world beside its weal is truth itself;Just as prosperity it seems, so ruin and decay is earth.How many Khusrevs and Jemshīds have come, and from its bower have passed!A theatre that vieweth many and many an act and play is earth.Ziyā, a thousand caravans of wise men through its realms have passed;But yet not one can tell its tale, and all unknown this day is earth.Ziyā Beg.

Ziyā Beg.

Heart! heart! how long shall last this sorrow, anguish, and dismay?All things upon earth’s ruin-cumbered waste must needs decay.What was the splendor of Jemshīd? where Khusrev and where Key?Hold fast the goblet and the wine, let chance not fleet away!“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”Be he Khusrev, or Rustem, or Nerīmān, or Jemshīd,Or be he beggar; be Islām or heathenesse his creed;A few days in earth’s inn a guest is he, then must he speed:Something to render gay that time is surely wisdom’s need.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”When viewed with understanding’s eye, the mote hath no repose;The world must thus be imaged for exemption from its woes:Of my coming and my going it no lasting picture shows—That a departure surely is which no returning knows.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”Events the workings of the Lord Most High make manifest;Being the mirror is in which the Absolute’s exprest;He who this mystery perceives in every state is blest;The exit of each one who enters earth decreed doth rest.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”See that thou grievest not thyself with sorrows all unwise;’Tis need all pleasure to enjoy as far as in thee lies;Alike is he who lives in joy and he whom trouble tries;If thou be prudent, ne’er thine opportunities despise.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”Since first the banquet fair, this world, was cast in form’s designs,How many rakes have passed away! how many libertines!As counsel meet for revellers, when he perceived those signs,Around the goblet’s rim the Magian priest engraved these lines:“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”At length, Ziya, shall joy beam forth, and grief an end shall find;But yet, O man, these ever enter Fortune’s feast combined.This hidden mystery learn thou, by Mahmūd Beg defined,Who has the secret of the same within this verse enshrined:“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”Ziyā Beg.

Be he Khusrev, or Rustem, or Nerīmān, or Jemshīd,Or be he beggar; be Islām or heathenesse his creed;A few days in earth’s inn a guest is he, then must he speed:Something to render gay that time is surely wisdom’s need.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

When viewed with understanding’s eye, the mote hath no repose;The world must thus be imaged for exemption from its woes:Of my coming and my going it no lasting picture shows—That a departure surely is which no returning knows.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

Events the workings of the Lord Most High make manifest;Being the mirror is in which the Absolute’s exprest;He who this mystery perceives in every state is blest;The exit of each one who enters earth decreed doth rest.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

See that thou grievest not thyself with sorrows all unwise;’Tis need all pleasure to enjoy as far as in thee lies;Alike is he who lives in joy and he whom trouble tries;If thou be prudent, ne’er thine opportunities despise.“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

Since first the banquet fair, this world, was cast in form’s designs,How many rakes have passed away! how many libertines!As counsel meet for revellers, when he perceived those signs,Around the goblet’s rim the Magian priest engraved these lines:“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

At length, Ziya, shall joy beam forth, and grief an end shall find;But yet, O man, these ever enter Fortune’s feast combined.This hidden mystery learn thou, by Mahmūd Beg defined,Who has the secret of the same within this verse enshrined:“Our coming to this world is one; man must reflect, survey;Care must one banish, and look out for calm and quiet aye.”

Ziyā Beg.

[Translated by A. P. de Courteille and Robert Arnot]

NABI Yousouf Efendi was born at Roha, about the year 1632, during the reign of Mourad IV. Coming to Constantinople in the time of Mahomet IV, he there attached himself to the all-powerful favorite Mustafa Pacha, who made him his secretary. In 1684, his protector having been made Serasker, he accompanied him to Morée. From there, he undertook the pilgrimage to Mecca and to Medina, and finally settled at Halep. It was during his stay in this city, about the year 1694, that he wrote, as he himself says, the poem dedicated to his son Aboul Khair. Some years after, Baltadji Mohammed Pacha, who was much attached to Nabi, recalled him to Constantinople, and appointed him president of the State treasury of Anatolia. He exchanged this position, however, for that of comptroller of the cavalry, in which he remained until his death, which occurred the twelfth of April, 1712.

Nabi is one of the Turkish classic authors; he occupies in Ottoman literature an exalted position, not only as a poet, but also as a prose writer. Under the title of Zeili Nabi, he wrote in the purest and most stately style an appendix to the “Life of Mahomet,” by Weïsi; this work was printed in Cairo in 1248. The imperial library has a copy of the complete works of Nabi. The manuscript is well written, but is filled with clerical errors. Beside the poems, it contains the letters of Nabi and his treatise on Mecca and Medina. The divan of our author is of considerable length; therein are found kassidès, chronograms, gazels, and two poems written for his son: the “Khai-riyè” and the “Khair-abâd.” This divan was written at Cairo in 1257.

The manuscript which has been used to verify the text was obtained from a learned teacher named Chinaci Efendi. Thetranslator has also referred, although with reserve, to the manuscript of the Imperial Library. The Cairo edition has not been very useful; it includes many readings, which are doubtful at best, and which have not been thought sufficiently important to note.

Those who have translated oriental poems know how difficult it is to remain exact without becoming unintelligible. The translator has endeavored to condense the text as much as possible, and has only departed from it insomuch as was necessary in order to make it intelligible. There is an obscure vagueness in Turkish poetry which passes for a kind of beauty in oriental eyes. The reader’s imagination loves to wander among these brilliant clouds; but the translator, forced to express himself clearly and openly, suffers much from this element of uncertainty.

The translator’s aim has been, above all, to provide for persons who are studying the Turkish language a work of a simple and elegant classic style and of moderate price, which will be a preparation for the reading of more difficult writings.

ALL praise to the Most High God, Creator of all that exists; who with his all-powerful pen has traced the characters of the world. Benign Lord, whose mercy is stretched forth over all men, whose benevolent hand has graven the image of existence on the tablet of the vow, from that void which, like a funeral mound, opened and disclosed its secrets. The Lord weighed in the balance of destiny chaos and existence; the aspect of existence became brilliant, and its forms were reflected in the mirror of chaos, whose burning gulf disappeared, and the veil which concealed the world was raised. Land was extended like a mantle over the world, and above was curved the celestial dome. The four elements and heaven became as a festal cup adorned with four roses. The Lord, uniting the two sexes, lit between them the torch of love. Then appeared the three reigns of nature: the mineral, the vegetable, and the animal. The inexhaustible munificence of the Almighty continued; next came the creation of man. God placed him above all living beings; formed from the slime of the earth, he was the noblest, the most perfect of all creatures. Although he had been moulded of earth and mud, the angels were ordered to bow down before him; the ladder of the divine decisions having been placed, man ascended to the first place in creation.

In all things there are different degrees, distinctions, and divisions, everything has different properties; nature has diversified all things, all men form quite distinct classes, and from these distinctions issues perfect order. Without them, the edifice of creation would be demolished; but how can the ignorantunderstand the mysteries therein? Water cannot have all the properties of fire; earth cannot produce the effects of wind. Gold is impotent to replace iron; sugar will never have the flavor of salt. The foot does not play the same role as the hand; the lancet does not serve the purposes of the sword. Hearing cannot take the place of sight; the shoulder cannot reflect as does the mind. The jeweller does not know the weaver’s art, nor does the carpenter understand the labors of the shoemaker. Nations understand nothing of the actions of those who govern them, and kings, in their turn, know not all that concerns their subjects. Warmth never produces the effect of cold; dryness and humidity are incompatible. Shade does not undergo the action of the sun, and the goblet is insensible to the transports agitating Djemschid.

Therefore understand this truth: thy nature is but formed of incongruous elements. Everywhere glaring contrasts are perceived in all objects. The wisdom and the might of God have no bounds, it is a spectacle without end. All the parts of creation are thus arranged: raise thy mind’s eye as high as it can reach. In this world and in the next, in the form of facts as in their reality, on all sides are encountered different degrees. In the spiritual order there are also many distinctions, like a sea with innumerable waves. He who has penetrated the farthest in the mysteries of creation has said that society is only founded on the distinction of classes. The friends of God are high-placed, but higher still are those whom he has created prophets.

It may be said that the prophets are in the place of honor on the light-giving throne as a brilliant star which irradiates its marvellous splendor to far distant worlds. But above all, and in the most exalted place, sits the king of creation, he for whom all was created, pre-eminently the elect of God, the precious pearl of the ocean of divine generosity, the luscious fruit of the garden of creation, he who opened the gate of the treasure of light, he for whom was limned the picture of this world, he of whom it is written in the beginning of the book of fates, he in whom was all accomplished, the principle of the operations of divine mercy, the last end of the omnipotence of the Lord, he who includes in himself the form and essence of all things, the dazzling light of the torch of immutable destiny, the ornament of existence’s throne, the guardian of the treasures of altitude and depth, and the seal of the mystery of the two worlds.

He it is who hath approached to God as near as two arcs, or even nearer, to whom all has been revealed; who, mounted proudly on the mighty Boraq, traversed the ethereal regions; the universal ruler throwing radiance over the domain of sovereign authority; the luminous eastern star of science, the all-excelling master of the apostolate of nations, on whom descended the glorious revelation, the most beautiful among the children of men, the most perfect of beings, the most noble of all creatures, the fountain of the graces shed on mankind, the soul of the world, the centre of creation, the illustrious and glorious Mahomet, in whom the Lord delights, the origin of all bearers of that venerable name, the most perfect of all in all degrees.

The word which proclaims him the first work come forth from the hands of God has shed universal joy. His person is the seal of glory and greatness; he is the centre of all purity, the arbiter of celestial revolutions; in him is the consummation of all perfection. As a seed concealed in the depths of the invisible earth, he appeared loaded with fruit. If you trace the rounded figure of amimyou will form Ahmed from the word Ahad, and if you ask where is the first letter of the Prophet’s name, you will find it in the second part of the word Mahomet. The Lord has raised him above all; he has overwhelmed him with graces and blessings. Benedictions upon him, on his family and his friends till the day of resurrection!

Aboul Khair Mohammed Tchélebi, thou who art the ornament of Halep, part of my being, substance of my life, first fruit of the garden of my happiness, thou art the luminous ray of my life, thou art the essence of the blessings which make me prosper. The Lord in his bounty has given thee to Nabi, O Joseph of thy father! O noble son! thou art indeed the living proof of the truth that the son is the joy of the father.Thou art, O light of mine eyes, the ornament of the garden-plot of paternal existence. Since thou hast become a shade for my head I see thee alone in this world. Thou who art endowed with all the graces, I have received thee from the hand of the Almighty in my declining days.

When thou didst appear on the horizon of the world as a moon of beauty, I had already passed my tenth lustre. Thou wert given to me when I was fifty-four, and it is in thy eighth year that this book is written. My place of nativity is the charming city of Edessa; but I was dwelling in Halep when I wrote this work. Edessa! type of the eternal flower-garden, native soil of the well-beloved of God, object of the emulation of all Syria, scene of the marvellous deliverance of Abraham! I sojourned thirty years at Adrianople and at Constantinople. Thanks to God! I, a poor slave, have been honored with many dignities. Having no longer taste for business, I enjoyed the repose given by retreat. The water and the excellence of the climate determined me to select Halep as an abiding place.

Lightof my hopes, gift bestowed on me by the omnipotent and glorious God! God be praised, thou art of a noble family; thy ancestors have all distinguished themselves in science. Although their worth is not sufficiently esteemed, learned men all occupy an elevated position. But of what use is the worth of thy father and of thy ancestors, if thou dost not raise thyself by thy talent? Thy origin is pure, O creature of God! He who is well born ought not to fall! All that nature has given me of worth is found complete in thyself. Thou hast many noble and good qualities which nothing, by the grace of God, can mar. Thy good nature sheds afar its perfume, thou dost manifest the traces of innate morality. The grace of God will come to thy aid, and thy natural capacities will easily surmount all difficulties. God protect thee and prosper thee! mayst thou long sojourn in this transitory world!

But in order that paternal advice may make a profound impression upon children, and that you may cherish it as a precious jewel and make it the subject of your meditations, after having practised my mind and grasped the pen of art, and having brought forth from my heart’s mine pearls worthy to wreathe a poetic garland, I wrote in verse a book of morals which may perhaps charm the intelligent. I have adorned it with the ornaments of poetry, and I have entitled it “The Good Book.”

Reverently press it to thy heart, and look upon it as a guardian amulet. Each day, O soul of thy father, hearken to the words of this jewel. Engrave them with care on thy mind, and never separate from it a single instant. Let, until the day of the resurrection, its salutary influence be exerted on thee and on all others. As long as this table shall be prepared, may young people come to seat themselves here as thy guests. And thou, as much as thou shalt relish the joy of these riches, bless the name of thy father and of thy mother. Rejoice me by the expression of thy gratitude; then remember me in thy prayers.

Ocypressof the slender form gracefully swaying in the garden of creation, learn from me what is the thing most necessary to man above all his temporal occupations. He should reflect on his end, he should embellish the edifice of his religion; the five columns on which this edifice rests are themselves based upon wisdom. It is within this enclosure that peace reigns; beyond, the shocks of adversity are to be feared. There extends a delightful garden; here opens the burning abyss of hell. There, also, are the sectarians of the straight and perfect road; here, those who are lost in error.

Observe religiously the precept of prayer; acquit thyself, if thou canst, of the obligation of pilgrimage and of the tithe in alms. Show proofs of zeal and activity in the accomplishment of these duties; do not show a criminal tendency to exempt thyself from them. Be not rebellious to the orders of the Almighty; obey all his commandments. All the salutary practices taught by religion are for Mussulmen like a robe with many folds. Recite the five prayers, O pure youth, if thou didst but know what graces thou drawest down upon thyself! Each of these practices has a mysterious meaning; a long discourse would be required to detail their merits.

The Lord, generous in his gifts, has made each of them the instrument of innumerable benefits. God has no need of thy works; ’tis thou alone who dost profit from thy wealth. O generous soul! thou alone wilt gather the fruit of thy good or evil actions.

Charmingbranch of the garden of morality, thou who rejoicest the heart and eye of thy father, confess candidly thy faith that all the mysteries of creation may be revealed to thee. Make thy heart the shrine of truth; light there the flaming torch of uprightness and sincerity. Fill thy mouth with the honey of the profession of the Mahometan faith. Let all thy words breathe submission to divine truths. The profession of faith is the seal of the salvation of believers, the ornament of the blissful gate of paradise.

It is this profession which establishes a striking distinction between the shadow of impiety and the light of faith. On it rests the foundation of true power, and on it has risen the edifice of religion. It is the column of Islamism, the water which fills the ocean of divine decrees, the key to the straight path and that which opens the gate of that devotion agreeable unto God. It is, for the tongue which utters it, like a dish of exceeding sweet savor. It is its salutary virtue which vivifies those whose hearts are dead.

Oroseof the ever-blooming garden, thou, the support of thy aged father, at the prescribed time perform the ablutions and purify thyself of exterior pre-occupation! Clothe thyselfas with a robe of innocence and light that thou mayst be worthy to sit among pure men. Prayer, for the faithful, is as a celestial ascension; open thine eyes to this divine rapture. Consider not prayer as an irksome task; it is an honor which God deigns to grant us. It is the support of religion; and the corner stone of the house of faith. Incline devoutly in thy adorations; be among the faithful who surround themihrab. Drag thy countenance in the dust before the Lord; be a slave in thy heart; consider his majesty. Prayer said without devotion is valueless in the sight of God; each time that thou dost bow down send forth to him a thousand ardent sighs. Plunge thyself completely in these holy practices; let thy reason succumb to a mysterious intoxication.

Far be it from thee to think of the delights of paradise or the torments of hell; love with all thy heart the sovereign Master of both. Yield not to sleep in the morning; be vigilant and assiduous in praying for the pardon of thy sins.

What happiness for thee to cross thy hands on thy breast and weep in the presence of thy God! When thou dost bow down, strike the earth with thy forehead; behold the potentates of this earth, O my son! is it permitted to everyone to salute the steps of their thrones?

The intelligent man, prostrated in the dust, does not raise his head; his eyes are not dazzled by a sudden brilliancy. Canst thou not be assiduous in the exercises of thy piety, if thou dost understand how precious they are to thee? I wish to disclose to thee a secret which is not permitted to be told to children. Apply thyself with all thy strength to understand it; thou wilt succeed in grasping its meaning. When thou dost pray while standing, is it not true, O youth beautiful as the full moon, that thou dost resemble anélifBut when thou art inclined, one might believe thou wert adal: it is the enigma of the prophets, endeavor to understand it. If thou dost prostrate thyself the rounded form of amimis seen, and then thou dost indeed merit the name of man. Forget not this truth which is revealed unto thee: he who neglects prayer is not a man.

Omostdelicious of the fruits of the paternal garden! precious pearl of the sea of life! dost thou wish to avoid the maladies which afflict the body? neglect not the fast of Ramazan. Fasting is a grace which the Lord grants to his servants; he does not leave it without recompense. Fasting is a table prepared by the divine mercy: he who practises it wears a robe of light. It demands mystery and retreat; hypocrisy should not come to profane it. Fasting is a mysterious emanation from eternity: it is a figure of spiritual royalty. The Prophet said, speaking with the breath of one who fasts, that it was more pleasing to God than the odor of musk! Fasting is the herald of the joys of paradise: to renounce these joys is to condemn one’s self to despair.

Until the shades of night begin to appear, let the disk of the sun be as a seal over thy mouth. As long as the jewel of thy being shall shine, abstain until darkness delivers thee from the eyes of the curious. What happiness for thee to have closed lips: to be beyond all agitation, with closed mouth and quiet body, to polish the mirror of thine existence, to deliver thy nature from the trammels of matter, to make it beam with a radiance full of grace, to dissipate the shadows of thy soul’s sanctuary, to be resplendent as the moon of the Ramazan!

Ofreshlyblooming rose of the garden-plot of my soul, perfume that dost charm the nostrils of courtesy, undertake no other journey but that of Caaba. A useless journey is as disastrous as the fire of hell. Caaba is the noblest of all the temples and the central point of the universe. It is the seat of royalty; the ornament of the foot of the throne of the Divinity; the trunk of the tree of divine mercy; the threshold of religionand of felicity; the torch that burns in the shrine of mysterious truths and whose brilliancy attracts suppliants as the candle the butterfly. It is the mysterious reflection of the high heavens: the abode veiled in black of Leila; the place of the adoration of men and angels, where the celestial vault inclines in reverence.

It is the site of the garden-plot of delights, all shining with an ineffable light. It is the station of the sacred mysteries; may God forever increase their significance! It is the throne of the rule of the Omnipotent and the threshold of the court of the All-Merciful. It is the centre of the earth around which the heavens accomplish their revolutions. It might be compared to a holy man, tall in stature; and the black gem to the buckle of his girdle. The black gem is the jewel of salvation kissed with awe by the friends of God. It is the first thing honored by the hand of the Creator; the more precious than amber, adorning the earth’s surface. The chief treasure of the secrets of the Divinity’s palace, the ornament of humanity’s domain, the dust at its portals is as a balm to the eyes; ’tis the abode of generosity and the happy home of purity. The life-giving water of the well of Zemzem is all prepared for the cleansing of our sins. The holy ground is the glory of the well of Zemzem, itself the glory of the world.

Mercy escapes from its golden funnel in inexhaustible abundance, purifying our faults. The water of Zemzem is a pure remedy which restores health to those who languish in separation. When thou dost arrive to the limits of the sacred territory, then visit the two walls of theihrâm. The visiting of holy spots gives new life; each band of pilgrims participates in the divine mercy. Each breath which escapes these breasts burning with love is as a spirit messenger ascending to heaven. O felicity, O delight, O unspeakable honor, to revolve around God’s throne! Over this sacred place of processions, that it be not profaned, let thy forehead be as a tapestry! And thy heart, like a moth, should circle around this holy candle! Diligently visit the court of the Author of all good. L’Arifè is a figure of the gathering at resurrection and the solemn day of the counsel of the merciful Lord. There the crowds which cover Mount Arafat receive the certificate of the pardon of sins.

There are purified those who were burdened with crime; there are freed the slaves of sin. These culprits form a dazzling ring whose setting is the column of divine mercy. All that was dark becomes white as snow; the record of evil deeds is thrown in the fire. Mina is a vast market where pardon is given in exchange for sins. The temple of Caaba is as the heart of the world, and its black gem is its inmost part. Exert thyself to penetrate the mystery of thy nature, formed of slime and water; on this question exhaust all thy faculties. If thou dost desire to discover its central point, imitate the compass that always turns in the same circle.

Opreciouspearl, worthiest heir of a noble family, give till the lastparathe alms prescribed by law: they will amass for thee a capital of salvation and blessings. Alms are due unto God: beware of negligence in paying him. Thou with whom the Lord has so generously shared, dost thou not hasten to purify thy wealth? Alms are the wealth of the poor; if thou dost retain them unjustly, thou wilt tarnish a legitimately acquired fortune. What thou dost give to obey the law of God, he will return to thee tenfold. If thou dost refuse, he will withdraw his benediction, and thy prosperity will vanish. Wealth not purified by alms is soon spent, and serves as a target for the blows of adversity. That blessed by this holy practice is as a seed which it pleases God to fructify. The grains dispersed here and there will grow and multiply, and thou wilt derive profit from them both in this world and in the next.

He who created poverty and wealth made alms the share of the poor. By an impenetrable mystery of his omnipotence, he has assigned to thee ease and to another indigence. Retain not unjustly the rights of the poor; pay them as soon as they are due. Complete legal alms by voluntary ones, which are the branches which shoot forth from the trunk of the others. How many passages of the Sacred Book bear witness to the excellence of their merits! Without poverty riches would haveno value, so has ordained he who has done all things. The poor are as the mirrors of the rich; thus the nature of each thing is revealed by contrasts. What couldst thou have accomplished against fate, hadst thou been poor and not rich? The sight of poverty provokes the rich to thankfulness; it gives them occasion to congratulate themselves for their prosperity.

If there were no beggars in the roads of this perishable world, how couldst thou purify thy goods by alms? If the pauper refuses thee, thou hast reason to be sad; if he accepts, thou art his debtor. Is he not the instrument of thy joy and of thy prosperity? What do I say: he is one more benefit added to all those thou hast received from God. Know that it is the liberality of the Lord which sends the mendicant to the faithful, because the profit of alms is his who donates. Thank the Lord for the gifts he has bestowed upon thee; thy glory will become more brilliant. Look upon the poor with the eye of compassion; beware from speaking harshly to them. Be affable and mild to them. Pour forth thy riches upon those who suffer from hunger; it is their right.

Let thy door be the rendezvous of the poor that thy bounty may equal thy power. Is it not better to come to the aid of the unfortunate, and assuage the pangs of the hungry, than to impose on thyself an added abstinence, and to defray the costs of repairing several mosques? There is more merit in giving water to one who thirsts than to visit Caaba annually. Glory and honor to him around whom press all those who suffer, and happy indeed is the wealth which serves to solace the misery of the poor. How worthy of envy is that powerful man who bestows bounty upon thousands of paupers! Is he not a river of blessings, whose liberality pours over all his brothers?

Do not regard the poor with disdain, nor reproach them with the gifts thou hast made. May thy benevolence rejoice children, and thy caresses console their afflicted hearts!

Blessed be the treasures destined by God for such glorious uses, that are as a saving ointment on the wounded hearts of defenceless orphans! Dry their tears with thy beneficent hand; may thy caresses make them forget the parents they have lost! When thou dost prosper in thy affairs, when Providence overwhelms thee with favors, put not thy foot in the way of ingratitude; fly from it with all the strength of thy soul!Gratitude is often only a vain word; let it be more in thy actions than in thy speech. Thank God from the bottom of thy heart; be generous to the poor. When thou seest the servants of God without bread and without garments, close not before them the door of liberality; repulse not those who extend to thee suppliant hands.

Whoever be the guest who takes shelter beneath thy roof, spare nothing to spread before him the table of hospitality. Treat him according to his deserts; honor him according to his dignity. If he makes himself troublesome, have patience; perhaps a single word will win his heart to thee. Let not disappointment fill his eyes with tears; refuse him nothing, if it is possible. Dost not wish to deliver him from all anxiety and to second with thy efforts all his desires? If it is not in thy power to content him, at least let the mildness of thy refusal leave him without regrets. Calm his mind with goodly words; fetter his heart with benevolence. That he may not leave thee with a wounded heart, think of what thou wouldst do in his place. How many ways thou hast to show thy gratitude!

No, gratitude cannot be limited. The mind of man is as incapable of understanding its merits as he is of worthily manifesting it. If thou dost wish the sincerity of thy sentiments not to be suspected, bestow liberally of thy wealth upon the poor. Let thy bounties, pure of all ostentation, have no other witness than the Divine Majesty. Beware of making allusions to them in words of pride; the Lord will know how to raise the veil with which thy modesty has covered them. The misconduct of intoxication is better than benefits accompanied with reproaches. There are many whom shame prevents from begging; go to meet those who have a right to thy compassion. How many men are divested of prosperity and whom misfortune has thrown at thy feet! To him who remains so overwhelmed in misery, even though he solicit not thy generosity, go, extend a succoring hand; that is more profitable than the building of sumptuous palaces.

Be convinced of this truth: thou wilt receive the reward for thy good deeds. Hypocrisy soils thy bounties; they will be neither useful to thee nor to them who have received them. Better is it to aid one unfortunate than to invite the rich to luxurious repasts. Seated at thy table, they would laugh atthy expense, and would criticise thy least faults. Hospitality given thus to the opulent, what is it but prodigality? What will it reap, in this world and in the next, but the eternal tortures of hell? Except in the cases where it is absolutely necessary to avoid serious inconvenience, to conciliate the good-will of thy brothers and live on good terms with them, every time that abundance reigns with thee, call in the poor and the orphans to share with thee.

Oyoungand growing shrub, ornament of the meadow of education, thou who dost lighten the heart and the eyes of thy father, apply thyself night and day to the study of noble wisdom; remain not like the brute, plunged in ignorance. Beware of a shameful idleness; knowledge and study are inseparable. The numerical value of these words is a proof in itself of this truth. Without study no knowledge; where one is not, the other cannot exist. Knowledge is the attribute of God; it is the most precious of all qualities. Neglect nothing to acquire it; such is the teaching of the illustrious preceptor. He also has said: Devote thyself to study from the cradle to the tomb. Exert, then, all thy strength to arrive at a city whose gate is the son-in-law of the Prophet.

Knowledge, celestial gift, is the table of divine hospitality. Mediator between being and void, it adorns the visage of existence. It is for it that the king of the domain of light exclaimed: Lord, increase my knowledge! It is the source of glory and of elevation; it gives an authority free from all taint. It holds the empire of dignity and of elucidation; it dispenses all knowledge. Vast ocean without bounds, he who claims to possess it is without wisdom. Ignorance is death, knowledge is life, said the Lord; dost thou then desire to be counted among the dead? Do not deprive thyself of eternal life; learn, with the aid of knowledge, to distinguish good from evil. Enrich thy mind with all kinds of knowledge; who knows if thou wilt not have occasion to make use of it? If thou art questioned concerninga difficulty, is it not better to reply thereunto than to confess thy ignorance?

God said to men: Seek knowledge even to the ends of the earth. Blush not to take lessons from a teacher skilful in archery; in all things it is finer to know than to be ignorant. The unlearned, in comparison with the learned, are dunces, and even less. How can an educated man be compared to an ignorant one? are the blind and those that see on the same level? Whatever be his rank and power, true dignity will never be the portion of the ignorant. Ignorance is the capital of shame and dishonor; his lot is debasement and contempt. It is a cursed prison, in which those who fall never see liberty again. Ignorance is chaos, knowledge is existence, how can two such contrary principles be associated?

Apply thyself to the study of the secrets of nature; do not stray in the valley of philosophy. What is more precious than knowledge? have any ever repented of devoting themselves to it? Subjects and kings all have need of the assistance of learned men. The nobility of knowledge has no more limits than the attributes of the Creator. As long as these cannot be limited, how can one fix boundaries to the others? Do not pause at the shell of things; seek to penetrate to the marrow. From the surface, pass to the interior: does the bird fly in the air without wings? The outside of a house is as a place of passage; it is within one seeks repose. Pearls are not found on the borders of the sea; if thou dost wish to possess them, thou must plunge in the depths.

The study of grammar, of syntax, and of literature is necessary; they are indispensable instruments to learn Arabic; but it is not necessary to give all one’s time to it: of what good is an instrument which one does not use? It is good to acquire all sorts of knowledge; not, however, to the same degree. It suffices thee to ornament thy mind with the knowledge of jurisprudence, of thehâdisand of the commentaries of the Koran. For the rest, content thyself with theory, leave to others the practice: fly lawsuits and contests. Abandon law for the practice of good works; enter not in the domains of chicanery: if thou dost not understand anything of the questions of purchase and sale, what disadvantage will come to thee of it in this world and the next?

Omostbeautiful of the pages of the book of creatures, thou whose image adorns the mirror of qualities! hearken to this paternal counsel: Boast of thy merit to no one; do not pursue a vain science which is babbled of in public lest thou consume thy strength to no purpose. Devote thyself to some science worthy of thy Creator and of thyself. Only pass through the realm of philosophy, but fasten thy attention on the writings of the friends of God. The holy aspirations of these illustrious guides bring men to truth. How difficult is it to find a perfect spiritual director! For the present, these precepts may suffice for thee. Let thy piety be enlightened. Far be it from thee to become a hypocrite and bigot, and weary not of aspiring to perfection and of working to become a sincere adorer of God.

Do not stray in the slippery places of doubt, for there are no wise men save those who are learned in divine things. How can he who devotes himself to grammatical subtilities penetrate the divine mysteries? The Creator of love has said: Acquire knowledge; such should be the aim of the two worlds. Knowledge is the ornament of man and the last places are the share of the ignorant. Knowledge is a spiritual happiness and a gift of divine beneficence. The ignorant reject knowledge because they cannot raise themselves to the required level, for they would devote themselves to it body and soul, were it possible. Examine closely, and then decide.

The mud of deception is not able to sully the garb of knowledge and the garment of instruction. Thou knowest that it is God himself who hath put thee in this world to serve him with all thy heart. Of necessity he is the master of the house; the fool only sees the house and mistakes the master. Labor courageously night and day to obtain the grace of the abiding of God with thee. Let him be the constant object of thy thoughts and of thy meditations, and be attentive to this great spectacle beneath thy eyes. Trouble not thyself with heaven or with hell, for it is their Master only whom thou must seek. If thou dost possess him, O life of my soul, thou wilt possess two worlds.

Seek to know thyself well, if thou dost wish to fathom the mysteries of this world. Seek morality eagerly, and give thyself no respite when thou wilt have found it. Whoever knows it not is a blind man below the ox and the ass. Morality is the chief riches of an enlightened soul and heart, and the last step to the knowledge of God. He who hath not penetrated to the light of morality remains lost in the shadows of error.

If thou dost well understand the truth of things, O pearl of Aden, thou wilt be invulnerable against fear and sadness. There lies all the mystery of unity; there is the secret of eternal felicity. Light of mine eyes! how full of anguish it is to be struck with blindness in this world and in the next! Anoint thine eyes with the salve of morality; if not, the day of judgment will be that of thy condemnation. He is blind, he that does not bear witness, for whom the gates of truth remain closed. He who was the glory of prophets asked in his prayers that the truth might be revealed to him. The writings of the men of God make the mirror of the intelligence to burn: do thou apply thyself to understand their meaning. Let these teachings be the safeguard of thy soul. He who seeks God has no better guide than themesnévisof the greatest Physician. The sublime truths of the “Book of Victories and of Distinctions” are a balm of purity for the mind’s eye. The saints have left many teachings which aid man to know his Creator. Therein are found mystic and spiritual truths derived from the Koran. Outwardly, they are only legal decisions, but beneath is a whole order of incontestable revelations. Consecrate all thy hours to the study of these books: mayst thou possess in full the doctrine which they contain!

Omoonthat dost light the eye of hope, and dost adorn the days of thy aged father! it availeth thee more to cultivate thy talents than to break the seal of a treasure. Knowledge and instruction have no surer asylum than Constantinople, which has not its equal for the flavor of its intellectual fruit. MayGod prosper this abode of all greatness, the home and school of all great men, and the seat of administration for all people! There merit always finds consideration. Every perfection, every talent, is there esteemed at its just value. There are all the degrees of honor and of nobility; everywhere else life is lost and wasted. There everything has its peaceable course, and merit has not the injustice of fortune to fear. There are found all places, all dignities, and all careers. Heaven in vain revolves around the world, it sees nowhere a city like unto Constantinople. There are seen paintings, drawings, writings, and gildings, dazzling and gleaming beyond belief. All possible kinds of arts contribute their own brilliancy and splendor. See how she gleams with a beauty all her own, as the sea languidly caresses her!

At Constantinople all arts and all professions are esteemed and honored, and one finds here talents whose names even are unknown elsewhere. Does he who is outside the house know what is within? Does he who stands on the shore see what is hidden by the depth of the sea? There also they excel in archery and the names of conquerors are immortalized on stone. Without mention of the rest, how pleasant and charming it is to fly over the surface of the sea, to reign at the same time over the air and the waves, like Solomon on his throne, and to recline luxuriously on a cushion with eyes fixed on a mirror of silver! There are combined at once music, song, and all pleasures. There, riding on the wings of the wind, the eyes perceive a great number of cities. Tranquilly resting on the breeze, one traverses the earth without fatigue. There are marvellously reflected the most gorgeous spectacles, which seem to mirror one another and give an enchanted aspect to the shores. Thequaîqsglide lightly over the water, with their wind-filled sails like a bird’s wings. How can so beautiful a sight be described? what need has it of eulogy?

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