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It may be that He, who restored his folk to Joseph of old And raised him to high estate from the prison where in bonds he lay,
Will hear our prayer and unite us; for Allah, the Lord of the worlds, All-powerful is, and His puissance knows neither let nor stay.
When the barber heard this, exceeding delight took possession of him and he was of great good cheer; (for it is said that when Ibrahim’s neighbours heard him [but] say, “Ho, boy, saddle the mule!” they were filled with delight). Then, being overborne by mirth, he said to me (continues Ibrahim), “O my lord, wilt thou give me leave to say what is come to my mind, for all I am not of the folk of the craft?” “Do so,” answered I; “this is of thy great courtesy and kindness.” So he took the lute and sang the following verses:
Unto our loved ones we made our moan of our nights so long and drear; And lo, “How short is the night with us!” quoth they we hold so dear.
This is because quick-coming sleep closes their happy eyes, But slumber comes not to close our lids, that burn with many a tear.
When the night approaches, the night so dread and drear to those that love, We are oppressed with grief; but they rejoice, when the night draws near.
Had they but drunken our bitter cup and suffered of our dole, Then were their nights as ours, as long and full of heavy cheer.
“Thou hast acquitted thee rarely, O my friend,” said I, “and hast done away from me the pangs of sorrow. Let me hear more trifles of thy fashion.” So he sang these verses:
So a man’s honour be unstained and free of all impair, Lo, every garment that he dights on him is fit and fair.
She taunted me, because, forsooth, our numbers were but few; But I “The noble,” answer made, “are ever few and rare.”
It irks us nought that we are few and eke our neighbour great, For all the neighbours of most folk are scant and mean elsewhere;
For we’re a folk, that deem not death an evil nor reproach, Albeit Aamir and Seloul so deem, of their despair.
