Flowers from a Persian Garden and Other Papers | Page 3

ghazal he composes, generally towards the end; and as his proper name would seldom or never accommodate itself to purposes of verse he selects a more suitable one.
At one period of his life Sa��d�� took part in the wars of the Saracens against the Crusaders in Palestine, and also in the wars for the faith in India. In the course of his wanderings he had the misfortune to be taken prisoner by the Franks, in Syria, and was ransomed by a friend, but only to fall into worse thraldom by marrying a shrewish wife. He has thus related the circumstances:
"Weary of the society of my friends at Damascus, I fled to the barren wastes of Jerusalem, and associated with brutes, until I was made captive by the Franks, and forced to dig clay along with Jews in the fortress of Tripoli. One of the nobles of Aleppo, mine ancient friend, happened to pass that way and recollected me. He said: 'What a state is this to be in! How farest thou?' I answered: 'Seeing that I could place confidence in God alone, I retired to the mountains and wilds, to avoid the society of man; but judge what must be my situation, to be confined in a stall, in company with wretches who deserve not the name of men. "To be confined by the feet with friends is better than to walk in a garden with strangers."' He took compassion on my forlorn condition, ransomed me from the Franks for ten d��nars,[2] and took me with him to Aleppo.
[2] A d��nar is a gold coin, worth about ten shillings of our money.
"My friend had a daughter, to whom he married me, and he presented me with a hundred d��nars as her dower. After some time my wife unveiled her disposition, which was ill-tempered, quarrelsome, obstinate, and abusive; so that the happiness of my life vanished. It has been well said: 'A bad woman in the house of a virtuous man is hell even in this world.' Take care how you connect yourself with a bad woman. Save us, O Lord, from the fiery trial! Once she reproached me, saying: 'Art thou not the creature whom my father ransomed from captivity amongst the Franks for ten d��nars?' 'Yes,' I answered; 'he redeemed me for ten d��nars, and enslaved me to thee for a hundred.'
"I heard that a man once rescued a sheep from the mouth of a wolf, but at night drew his knife across its throat. The expiring sheep thus complained: 'You delivered me from the jaws of a wolf, but in the end I perceive you have yourself become a wolf to me.'"
Sir Gore Ouseley, in his Biographical Notices of Persian Poets, states that Sa��d�� in the latter part of his life retired to a cell near Sh��r��z, where he remained buried in contemplation of the Deity, except when visited, as was often the case, by princes, nobles, and learned men. It was the custom of his illustrious visitors to take with them all kinds of meats, of which, when Sa��d�� and his company had partaken, the shaykh always put what remained in a basket suspended from his window, that the poor wood-cutters of Sh��r��z, who daily passed by his cell, might occasionally satisfy their hunger.
* * * * *
The writings of Sa��d��, in prose as well as verse, are numerous; his best known works being the _Gulist��n_, or Rose-Garden, and the _Bust��n_, or Garden of Odours. Among his other compositions are: an essay on Reason and Love; Advice to Kings; Arabian and Persian idylls, and a book of elegies, besides a large collection of odes and sonnets. Sa��d�� was an accomplished linguist, and composed several poems in the languages of many of the countries through which he travelled. "I have wandered to various regions of the world," he tells us, "and everywhere have I mixed freely with the inhabitants. I have gathered something in each corner; I have gleaned an ear from every harvest." A deep insight into the secret springs of human actions; an extensive knowledge of mankind; fervent piety, without a taint of bigotry; a poet's keen appreciation of the beauties of nature; together with a ready wit and a lively sense of humour, are among the characteristics of Sa��d��'s masterly compositions. No writer, ancient or modern, European or Asiatic, has excelled, and few have equalled, Sa��d�� in that rare faculty for condensing profound moral truths into short, pithy sentences. For example:
"The remedy against want is to moderate your desires."
"There is a difference between him who claspeth his mistress in his arms, and him whose eyes are fixed on the door expecting her."
"Whoever recounts to you the faults of your neighbour will doubtless expose your defects to others."
His humorous comparisons flash upon the reader's mind with