Oh; why was I there at the window just when Black rode by on his white
steed? Why did I open the shutters intuitively at that exact moment and stare
at him so long from behind the snowy branches of the pomegranate tree? I
can’t tell you for sure。 I’d sent word to Esther by way of Hayriye。 I was; of
course; well aware that Black would take that route。 Meanwhile; I’d gone up
alone to the room with the built…in closet and the window facing the
pomegranate tree to inspect the sheets in the chest。 On a whim; and at just
the right moment; I pushed the shutters open with all my strength and
sunlight flooded the room: Standing at the window; I came face…to…face with
Black; who; like the sun; dazzled me。 Oh; it was quite lovely。
He’d grown and matured and; having lost his awkward youthful lankiness;
he turned out to be a ely man。 Listen Shekure; my heart did tell me; he’s
not only handsome; look into his eyes; he possesses the heart of a child; so
pure; so alone: Marry him。 I; however; sent him a letter wherein I’d given him
quite the opposite message。
Though he was twelve years my elder; when I was twelve; I was more mature
than he。 Back then; instead of standing straight and tall before me in a fashion
befitting a man and announcing that he was going to do this or that; jump
from this spot or climb onto that thing; he’d just bury his face in some book
or picture; hiding as if everything embarrassed him。 In time; he also fell in love
with me。 He made a painting declaring his love。 We’d both matured by then。
When I turned twelve; I sensed that Black could no longer look into my eyes;
as if he were afraid I’d discover he loved me。 “Hand me that ivory…handled
knife;” he’d say; for example; looking at the knife but unable to look at me。 If I
asked him; for instance; “Is the cherry sherbet to your liking?” he couldn’t
simply indicate so with a delicate smile or nod; as we do when our mouths are
full; you see。 Instead; he’d scream “Yes” at the top of his lungs; as if trying to
municate with a deaf man。 He feared looking me in the face。 I was a
maiden of striking beauty then。 Any man who caught sight of me even once;
from afar; or from between parted curtains or yawning doors; or even through
the layers of my modest head coverings; immediately became enamored of me。
I’m not being a braggart; I’m explaining this so you’ll understand my story
and be better able to share in my grief。
In the well…known tale of Hüsrev and Shirin; there’s a moment that Black
and I had discussed at length。 Hüsrev’s friend; Shapur; intends to make Hüsrev
and Shirin fall in love。 One day Shirin embarks on a countryside outing with
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her ladies o