Free One Thousand and One Nights by Hanan al-Shaykh

ivory, with a lamp hanging inside and furnished with comfortable seats and feather mattresses and cushions dotted about. Candles flickered and I could hear the soothing sound of a water fountain, next to which stood a table, spread with flowers and herbs and upon which stood a jug of wine and many delicacies, grilled chicken and game birds, fruit and sweetmeats. I waited there for many hours and when she did not come I realised I was famished and I fell upon the food as if it was the young woman I was finally devouring. I ate until I was full and then I stretched myself happily out among the cushions to wait some more.
    I woke suddenly, hot and drenched in sweat. The sun was beating down on me, as if it was smothering me with its rays. It was morning and I jumped up as though I’d been bitten by a snake. A piece of coal and some salt had been placed upon my stomach.
    The garden was empty and there was no sign of the pergola or the cushions, the candles or the beautifully laden table. Filled with rage and utter despair I returned to my cousin once more, to find her weeping and saying:
            “Forgive me if I shed these black tears.
            But your beloved loves you back
            While the one I adore doesn’t love me at all.
            How compassionate and kind God is to you.”
    She stopped crying and came over to me and sniffed at my clothing.
    “That is not the scent of one who has enjoyed his beloved,” she said. “And now I fear for you, Aziz. I know full well that women may tease men, but this woman has deliberately wounded your heart—she has aimed to hurt you as much as she possibly could. The salt that she left on your stomach means you are a pallid dish which needs salt to add flavour, lest you be spat out. And as if this was not insult enough, she leaves you with a piece of charcoal, meaning that she wishes God would blacken your face, since you claim to be in love but your passion really lies in eating and drinking—you are a charlatan lover. So, my cousin, this woman is hard and cruel, it is she who is deceitful, not you. Why did she not wake you when she found you asleep? How I wish that God would release you from her clutches!”
    “On the contrary,” I thought to myself as I listened to Aziza. “My beloved was right—I fell asleep when it is known that true lovers are insomniacs. I was unjust to myself and to my lover when I allowed greed to overtake desire.”
    I thumped my chest and wept at my bad fortune, and pleaded with my cousin to help me, threatening to kill myself if she would not. Aziza said, “If you asked for my eye, cousin, I would pull it out from beneath my eyelid for you. How I wish I could come and go from this house as I please so I might bring the two of you together, for your sake rather than for hers. Listen to me, Aziz. Go back to her again, but this time you must not touch even one morsel of food, for that will be the spur to your appetite and you know that a full belly will only make you sleepy. Go to her and don’t forget to recite these lines before you leave:
            “ ‘Lovers, in the name of God,
            Tell me how can one relieve this endless desperation?’ ”
    I entered the garden and saw that everything was as it had been the night before. This time, I didn’t touch a morsel of food; instead, I sat and walked and waited, but slowly boredom crept upon me and I found myself at the table once more, saying that I’d have just one spoon of yoghurt to soothe my beating heart. But it was just as Aziza told me: one mouthful only aroused my appetite and I was unable to stop sampling the many dishes laid out on the table. Before I knew it I was full, but now, instead of lying down, I sat with my head in my hands. And yet, despite my efforts, I found that I fell into a deep sleep and dreamed that I was fully awake, slapping my face and sprinkling my eyes with water and rubbing my eyes so as not to doze off and to