submissiveness verging on servility was no less a pleasure than being master to
a young; pretty and intelligent apprentice—and I grieved for those who would
never know this truth。
I turned the pages; gazing hurriedly but with rapt attention upon
thousands of birds; horses; soldiers; lovers; camels; trees and clouds; while the
Treasury’s happy dwarf; like a shah of elder days given the opportunity to
exhibit his riches and wealth; proudly and undauntedly removed volume after
volume from chests and placed them before me。 From two separate corners of
337
an iron chest stuffed with amazing tomes; mon books and disorderly
albums; there emerged two extraordinary volumes—one bound in the Shiraz
style with a burgundy cover; the other bound in Herat and finished with a
dark lacquer in the Chinese fashion—which contained pages so resembling
each other that at first I thought they were copies。 While I was trying to
determine which book was the original and which the copy; I examined the
names of the calligraphers on the colophons; looked for hidden signatures; and
finally came to the realization; with a shudder; that these two volumes of
Nizami were the legendary books that Master Sheikh Ali of Tabriz had made;
one for the Khan of the Blacksheep; Jihan Shah; and the other for the Khan of
the Whitesheep; Tall Hasan。 After he was blinded by the Blacksheep shah to
prevent him from making another version of the first volume; the great master
artist took refuge with the Whitesheep khan and created a superior copy from
memory。 To see that the pictures in the second of the legendary books; made
when he was blind; were simpler and purer; while the colors in the first
volume were more lively and invigorating; reminded me that the memory of
the blind exposes the merciless simplicity of life but also deadens its vigor。
Since I myself am a genuine great master; so acknowledged by Almighty
Allah; who sees and knows all; I knew that one day I would go blind; but is this
what I wanted now? Since His presence could be sensed quite nearby in the
exquisite and terrifying darkness of the cluttered Treasury; like a condemned
man who wishes to look upon the world one last time before he is beheaded; I
asked Him: “Allow me to see all these illustrations and have my fill of them。”
As I turned the pages; by the force of God’s inscrutable wisdom; I
frequently came across legends and matters of blindness。 In the famous scene
showing Shirin on a countryside outing falling in love with Hüsrev after seeing
his picture on the branch of a plane tree; Sheikh Ali R?za from Shiraz had
drawn dis