Each has a measure of weakness
That remains unchanged to their last gasp.’
“Then he ran off with his basket, nibbling at its sides and wreaking havoc on its meager supplies.”
3.13.18
Continued al-Hāwif, “Truly, he hit the nail on the head, and I realized there was no self-interest in what he said, so I inclined to be reconciled with my wife, to rein in my rashness and curb our strife, and I went home where, finding her wearing her fingers for me to the bone, I threw myself into her arms as one who’s been too long away and told her all that the two poets and the Fāriyāq had had to say, to which she responded, ‘God reward him on my behalf and protect him in his exile from all dangers that may cross his path!’ Then we continued in mutual accommodation, pledging each other to maintain our association.”
CHAPTER 14: RAVENINGLY RAVENOUSLY FAMISHED
3.14.1
When the Bag-man found that living in Beirut was good for neither his body nor his mind,158 he decided to leave it and set off for the Mountain, for he had gotten it into his head that he’d like to live in a Greek Orthodox monastery. He therefore proceeded with his wife and the Fāriyāq and they put up in a village below said monastery159 for a few days. Now certain local beauties used to keep the Fāriyāq company there and share his meals, and when one of these learned that he was going up the following day to the monastery, she burst into tears, seemingly thinking he’d decided to take monastic vows. It occurred to him that she was at odds in this with women’s ways, for women love monks more than they do common folk, since the seduction of a contemplative ascetic calls for a more than usually persuasive deployment of desire and deviousness, which is something that appeals to women, or vice versa;160 afterward, when they find said ascetic to be obedient to them, they return to their former ways so that they can try out every kind of love and let not one escape them.
3.14.2
In short, the Fāriyāq was wept over enough at his departure this second time in his life to be counted among the ranks of those who have been loved, and he went the following day to the monastery, where he took a cell without lock or key, thus joining the company of Shitter Bāy,161 whose doors cannot be closed (which, I declare, is a strange way to build). This monastery was a place where all the people of the surrounding villages gathered, depositing their belongings there for fear that the Egyptian soldiers might attack them, the monastery being a safe sanctuary. When they arrived, they would go into any cell without exception, including that of the Fāriyāq, and if they found papers on his bed containing the interpretation of a dream or anything else, they’d snatch them up and read them. Some would understand enough for their tongues to turn, some enough for their heads to turn, some enough for their whole bodies to turn — meaning they’d turn their backs on him and leave — and some enough for their hands to turn, in which case they’d raise them so as to fall with a thud on writer and writings alike. Some would scoff at them and say, “They’re just nonsensical dreams” and others would say, “They are inappropriate to a time of war” and he found no one among them who approved. Among these uninvited male visitors were uninvited female visitors, among them those whom it was an obligation to greet with “Hello!”, “Well met!”, and “Welcome!”, others for whom just one of those would do, others who were worth two greetings in quick succession, and yet others who weren’t worth even one.
3.14.3
All of this, taking the rough with the smooth, was bearable. What could not be borne was the hunger, which was caused by the closing of the highways. At the same time, the Fāriyāq had just emerged from the sufferings of the sea voyage, which had imposed on him a fast of successive days, and he could not do without something to snack on. This led him to go to the village and call out, “Any woman who has a chicken to sell should sell it to me!” to which one of them would answer, “You see that hen roaming with the others in the field? I want to sell it. If you want it, run after it and grab it with your hands,” so he’d run after the chickens and jump over walls with them, and if he was lucky enough to break the leg of one or to tire it out, he’d pounce on it. As he ran after the hen, his thoughts would run alongside him, and he’d say to himself, “Here I am running after a hen. Is my wife, on the island, running after a rooster?” With all this running, I have to stop and point out that I mentioned earlier that the Fāriyāq was full of rashness, impetuosity, and apprehension. It was his nature, when away from his family, to keep contrasting his state with theirs, either sequentially or non-sequentially. An example of the first would be his saying, “Here I am running after a hen. Is my wife running after a rooster?” or his saying, for example, when dressed, “Is she at this moment naked?” or when standing, “Is she now flat on her back?” and so on and so forth. An example of the second would be “I am now running after a hen. Is a rooster running after her?”
3.14.4
The bread at the monastery and in the villages at that time was adulterated with darnel162 and when the Fāriyāq ate it, he’d imagine he was still in the ship, at the mercy of sea monsters, and this would be confirmed for him by the entry of one of the monks into his cell while he was in that state. When he had reached the end of his tether, he composed some verses and sent them to the head of another monastery, thinking he might have some surplus supplies. They went as follows:
Would that I knew what use is eloquence
On an empty stomach, or clarity of expression, or all the kinds of brilliant style:
When there’s naught to eat
They sear the throat and tongue like bile.
I’ll give you a thousand metaphors for a single loaf
And, compared to a lettuce, Taftāzān’s163 of paltry value.
Arabists, get lost!
“Zayd struck ʿAmr”164 will ne’er set bread on table.
Where oh where are the kebabs, the rice and
Cracked wheat, the bowls of them spilling, so full they are, the cloth upon?
The days of stew are done and come is the turn of hunger,
Whose dwelling place is Lebanon.
What ignominy! We dispatch gold coins
But no one for them strives.
There is no selling and buying in a land
Where the staff of life is nowhere to be found, whilst darnel thrives.
I spent so long in the monastery ‘twas as though
I were a monk the others could not stand,
For they saw about me books and pens
Of the sort their metropolitan has banned.
I’m hungry for gay company but live alone.
No woman, nor any man, e’er sees me—
My life’s so bad that, were I shown it in a dream,
Bad grammar would never thenceforth make me moan.
The head of the monastery sent him some loaves that contained no darnel, along with these lines:
Your verses have reached me, dear Farqiyān,
But our role in this life is to be celibate.
We have no food of the sort you crave
And no wine or women to celebrate.
3.14.5
The Fāriyāq bustled off to see him and upbraid him for changing his name. In the monastery he caught sight of a woman connected to some emir, who had come to the monastery seeking refuge from the soldiers. When he saw the head, he told him, “My Lord, the bread may make up for the metrical faults in your verses, but why did you change my name?” Then he mentioned the lady he’d seen and said, “And you said too that monks don’t have women, but I’ve just seen a lovely lady, filling her clothes with fat and flesh.” Replied the other, “I changed your name for the sake of the rhyme, which is permitted to poets, and when I say ‘We don’t have women’ I mean we have no wives. We don’t deny, though, that the wives of others visit us sometimes for the blessings we bestow.” “Which of you could bestow such blessings?”165 asked the Fāriyāq. The man didn’t understand but the lady got it and invited him to the usual water pipe. He stayed with her for a while, which further helped to make up for the changing of his name, and returned to his cell content. There he found that a branch from the first dream166 had remained caught in the head of the master of the Oneiromancer’s Chamber and made him even more demented. Thus, on hearing the sound of drums from the soldiers’ tents or seeing the glint of their weapons, he’d say, “Do you not hear Satan’s drum which one of the monks is drubbing? Do you not see Satan’s horns and the sparks that fly from them, the women against them rubbing?” His wife paid no attention to his shouting or to the soldiers’ camping near the monastery, for love of “the Branch” had left room in her heart for nothing else. Then the Almighty vouched safe that the situation should improve and the soldiers left the country, the roads and highways became safe, and the master of the Chamber calmed down and decided to go to the city of Damascus, passing by Baalbek to see its wondrous castle, and they hired themselves horses and mules and resolved to travel.