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3.2.27

T

HE

T

WO

T

ITTER

— M

AKING

P

OEMS

28

I was not the first lover among mankind

To pursue the object of his passion from both in front and behind,

Or to think, one day, that tears would be his helper and intercessor

Or, on another, to make a weeping man laugh,

Or to be felled by love, chattering and salivating,

Putting on airs, approaching, retiring,

Jumping, flirting, and courting,

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, snapping his fingers, making popping noises with his finger in his cheek,

Chanting, singing, and whistling,

Fluting, drumming, and piping,

Now yawning and stretching,

Now sticking out his chest or creeping close to the ground.

Should such a one be confronted with a well-guided opinion, he

Ambles and delays its implementation

For passion outwits one’s wits and turns the lover from right judgment

Leaving him to lose his mind and caper madly.

I used to be amazed when they said, “A jinni-possessed

poet”29 and think it was a lie

Till I met my two little friends30

Who then turned out to be fashioned of clay.

3.2.28

Beauty has been created as a paradise for the crazed lover’s eye

And for his heart a fire that makes him burn yet fiercer.

Small wonder then that the face of him who loves

Should turn red and suffer its passion as though flayed.

Would that man, one day, might be rendered capable of dispensing

With women as something to be sold or bought!

Would that beauty in them were like salt

In the food pots that makes one vomit if there is too much!

Nay more — would that they had been created the ugliest thing to be seen

That we might not wander love-smitten, confused, not knowing which to choose!

Would that the perky-breasted ones were droopy-dugged! How excellent then in appearance

(We crying, “Oh no! What horror”!) would the long-uddered be!

Would that this slim one were as squat as a box

And this big-buttocked one had no tush at all, that we might find delight in sleep!

Would that these huge eyes were narrow and the well-strung

Pearls in her mouth had turned yellow!

Would that each plump shank were

A prickly artichoke stem, or thinner yet and more shrunken!

Would that a shining forehead with, above it,

Hair like night had never struck, like an unsheathed sword, any tyro who rushed into peril!

3.2.29

Would that any length of neck might appear to our eyes

Short, and something abominable!

By beauty itself I swear, ugliness is comelier in a countenance

Since what is seen of it does not make the eye weep!

For what reason are our minds and hearts

Preoccupied with the love of plump and easygoing maidens above all else,

And why have they, before all others, been blessed

With every precious thing and every proud adornment?

By what right have they set themselves above men in their insolence

When they are beneath them, whether on their fronts or their backs,

And how long must the bull camels be patient,

When the doings of these beauties exceed all bounds, confusing the steadfast?

They came out of us, yet send us out of our minds

When they go in or out — how foolish would be any who disputes that!

And why should redress not be demanded of one

Whose glance has split the heart of the love-sick in twain?

And why is it permitted to sip the saliva from

The mouth of the sweet-mouthed, dry-cunted woman, when it makes you drunk

And wherefore should the woman comely of body and color glory in a sword blow

To the head that, morning and evening, lays passion bare?

3.2.30

Ask her, “Does the oven burn hot as it should

Each month, or is it late some months?”31

Where are the high deeds and noble acts? Where is he who

Will bring pride to mankind through his glory and show his strength?

The name of the pretty, smooth, young girl, should it be mentioned to him, takes command of him

Willingly or unwillingly, though he could defeat an army,

And though she belch poisonous fumes for an hour in his face,

He will say, “I am intoxicated with ambergris!”

The grown man may fall in love and then be sent mad by

Wind from the lovely one that permeates his nostrils.

Had He-of-the-Two-Horns32 gone along with her wiles,

He would have found a third horn added to the other two.

Were it not for women, you would not see any man accused of sin

Or declared a fool, a lecher, a rake,

Or a bankrupt, nor would any be paraded on a donkey or accused of impotence

Or of being a wittol or be taken around on a donkey with bells on or be held up to blame

Or be love-sick or love-crazed or love-wasted

Or beaten to a pulp, or found fault with or made a spectacle of.

3.2.31

Skulls would not be seen scattered in the tumult

Neath the shoes of the horses as they strike fire from the helmets

Nor would nation-states crumble because of them — states that disported themselves

And then were visited by destruction by night and found themselves by morn beneath the sod.

The histories of nations long gone addressed me,

So I repeat the words of those who before me have written:

“Dear Lord, women charmed our minds;

Change then their charms into despised ugliness

Or make a film descend upon our eyes

Or, if not, then blind those who can see

Or grab us by our forelocks or castrate us or geld us

Or emasculate us (with amniotic fluid, naturally, to be more appropriate).”

3.2.32

T

HE

S

ECOND

To whom should I complain, when my heart today

Is mine own enemy?

To whom should I complain, when my mind today

Is outwitted by my desires

And my eye has delivered my soul to perdition

And my own soul it is that brings me ill?

My reproachers are those who once,

Even when I was absent, were my friends.

My troubles are from my failure to reach

The full-bottomed ones among them.

Hopes never realized

Have destroyed all other hopes.

He33 watched the fire of love flare up

To burn and sear

But what do I care for my loins,

That the fire should engulf them, or my cauls?

He says, “Death from intercourse

Though I live a life of destitution,

Is more pleasing to me than living

One day without penetration.