Free Layla and Majnun by Nizami Page B

man had trapped a stag in a snare and was just about to slit its throat.
    His blood set to boil, Majnun ran towards the hunter and screamed, ‘You monster of a tyrant! You shameful oppressor of the weak and the defenceless! Let this creature go so that it may spend what is left of its life in peace!
    ‘Have you no thought for this poor creature’s companion? For its offspring, waiting for their father to return? What would the poor hind say if she could speak? She would curse you; she would ask God to make you suffer as you have made her companion suffer.
    ‘Does the distress of those you torture mean nothing to you? Put yourself in the stag’s place; imagine yourself as the victim in the snare and the stag as the hunter, about to kill you. What would you feel, then?’
    ‘I do not kill for the sake of killing,’ said the hunter, lowering his dagger. ‘I kill in order to survive, in order to put food on the table. If you wish, I am ready to sell the stag to you.’
    Majnun had neither money nor jewellery, but he did have the few things that Nowfal had given him. He took them out of his bag and handed them to the hunter, who was quite satisfied with the exchange. Stuffing them into his sack, he patted the stag on the back, smiled at Majnun and set off over the dunes.  
    When the hunter had gone, Majnun went over to the stag and began to stroke it gently, like a father caressing his child. Then he began to whisper into its ear:  
    ‘You are like me, separated from the one you love. Never mind, for your sorrows are over. Now you can return to her and sleep in her shadow, where you belong. And if, as you return to your beloved, you should encounter mine on the way, give her this message from me:
    Every breeze that blows brings your scent to me;
    Every bird that sings calls out your name to me;
    Every dream that appears brings your face to me;  
    Every glance at your face has left its trace with me.  
    I am yours, I am yours, whether near or far;  
    Your grief is mine, all mine, wherever you are.’
    With these words, Majnun untied the stag and set it free. Then he watched it as it hurried off into the distance, anxious to rejoin its mate.
    High above, the caravan of night had returned from its travels; in the eastern sky, the moon emerged from the darkness and began to bathe the desert in its hypnotic silver light. Majnun looked up to the sky like a bird with injured wings, unable to fly. Then he stared at the stars and, with tears in his eyes, pondered his fate.

Chapter 24
    D awn cast its ochre light over the indigo dome of night, while the sun, awakened from its slumber, painted fresh red roses on the horizon.
    But Majnun, wearied by grief and the pain of separation, resembled a flower in autumn, its sepals withered, its petals yellow and fading and set to fall.
    When the sun reached its zenith and began to roast him, Majnun was relieved to find a small, palm-fringed oasis with a bubbling stream where he could rest awhile. Water and trees and shade! This place, thought Majnun, is a small part of Heaven fallen down to earth!
    He drank from the cool, sweet stream until his thirst subsided; then he lay down on the velvet-soft carpet of grass in the shade of the palms. Within minutes he had drifted into a deep, sweet sleep. Slowly his cares dissolved, his worries melted away,and he began to dream.
    When he woke, the sun was already sinking low in the west. How long had he been asleep? It had seemed but minutes, yet the fading light and the approaching cold told a different tale.
    As he pondered the mysteries of sleep, trying to work out how so much time could have passed unnoticed, Majnun was suddenly gripped by the feeling that he was not alone, that someone or something had been watching him as he lay sleeping. Surely he must be mistaken — after all, he thought, apart from me there is no living thing for miles around.
    And then he saw it. High up among the leaves of the topmost branch of the palm in whose shade he