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迪文小说>我的名字叫红英语怎么说 > 第91部分(第1页)

第91部分(第1页)

the  lot  of  poets;  drunks;  hashish  addicts  and  dervishes  and  others  who

cunningly  charmed  the  proprietor  into  allowing  them  to  join  this  mirthful

and witty group。 I explained how confusion reigned as soon as the raid began。

When  the  crowd  of  onlookers  gathered  by  the  proprietor  for  some  bawdy

entertainment began to leave in a panic; no one thought to mount a defense

of the establishment or of the poor old storyteller dressed as a woman。 Did I

grieve over this calamity? “Yes! I; Mustafa the Painter; also known as ”Stork;“

who have truly devoted my entire life to illumination; find it necessary; each

night; to sit together with my artist brethren and converse; joke; ridicule; pay

pliments;  recite  poems  and  speak  in  innuendos;”  I  confessed;  looking

directly into the eyes of dim…witted Butterfly; shrouded in the air of a plump;

moist…eyed boy plagued by envy。 Even as an apprentice; this Butterfly of ours;

whose eyes were still as lovely as a child’s; was a sensitive; fine…skinned beauty。

Again; upon their asking me; I described how on the second day that the

storyteller;  may  his  soul  find  peace  in  Heaven;  wandering  the  city  and

neighborhoods   began   plying   his   trade   in   the   coffeehouse;   one   of   the

miniaturists; perhaps under the influence of coffee; hung a picture on the wall

to be amusing; the glib storyteller took notice and; as a joke of his own; began

a  monologue  as  if  he  were  the  dog  in  the  picture;  which  met  with  great

success; thenceforth; every night he continued to feature pictures drawn by the

master miniaturists and to tell witty tales they whispered into his ear。 Because

the  jibes  at  the  preacher  from  Erzurum  at  once  exhilarated  the  artists;  who

lived  in  terror  of  the  preacher’s  wrath;  and  drew  more  customers  to  the

coffeehouse; the proprietor from Edirne encouraged the performances。

They  asked  me  my  interpretation  of  the  pictures  the  storyteller  hung  up

behind  himself  each  night;  the  ones  they  found  during  their  raid  of  brother

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Olive’s  empty  house。  I  explained  that  there  was  no  need  for  interpretation

because the proprietor; like Olive himself; was a begging; thieving; wild wretch

of  a  Kalenderi  dervish。  The  simple…minded  Elegant  Effendi;  terrified  of  Hoja

Effendi’s   exhortations;   and   especially   of   his   fire…and…brimstone   Friday

sermons;  must’ve  plained  of  them  to  the  Erzurumis。  Or  even  more

probable; when Elegant warned them to stop in their mischief; the proprietor

and Olive; both of the same temperament; conspired to cruelly do away with

the  ill…fated  gilder。  The  Erzurumis;  incited  by  Elegant’s  murder;  and  perhaps

because  Elegant  Effendi  had  described  Enishte’s  book  to  them;  held  Enishte

responsible  for  the  murder  and  killed  him;  and;  they  must’ve  raided  the

coffeehouse to plete their revenge。

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