Prevod

Among the tales told is this account of al-‘Atti: One day I was sitting with a company of men of letters. We exchanged stories of people, and our conversation turned to lovers, each of us contributing a tale. Among us was an old man who remained silent. When everyone else had told all he knew, the old man said, “Shall I tell you a story the like of which you have never heard?” “Yes,” we replied. He said, “Know, then, that I had a daughter who loved a young man, though we knew nothing of it. The young man loved a singing girl, and the singing girl loved my daughter. One day I attended a gathering where that young man was present …” But dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the four hundred and tenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the old man said, “One day I attended a gathering where that young man and the singing girl were present. The singing girl sang these two lines: ‘The sign of love’s abasement in lovers is their weeping, most of all in one who has no ear to hear his plaint.’ The young man said to her, ‘Well sung, by God, my lady! Will you give me leave to die?’ From behind the curtain, the singing girl answered, ‘Yes. If you are a lover, then die.’ The young man laid his head on a cushion and closed his eyes. When the cup came round to him, we shook him, only to find him dead. We gathered about him; our pleasure turned to gloom, and in our distress we dispersed at once. When I reached my house, my family were surprised to see me return at an unaccustomed hour. I told them what had happened to the young man, thinking to astonish them. My daughter heard my words, rose from the room where I was sitting, and went into another. I followed her into that room and found her with her head resting on a cushion, just as I had described the young man. I shook her, and found her dead. We set about preparing her for burial, and the next morning we carried out her bier, while the young man’s people carried out his. As we made our way to the burial ground, we came upon a third funeral procession. We asked whose it was, and learned that it was the singing girl’s: when news of my daughter’s death had reached her, she had done as my daughter had done, and died. So we buried all three on the same day. This is the strangest tale of lovers ever heard.”