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第74部分(第1页)

of Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror?”

“The books that Shah Tahmasp sent His Excellency Sultan Selim; Denizen of

Paradise; as a present twenty…five years ago;” said Master Osman。

The  dwarf  brought  us  to  a  large  wooden  cabi。  Master  Osman  grew

impatient as he opened the doors and cast his eyes on the volumes before him。

He opened one; read its colophon and leafed through its pages。 Together; we

gazed  in  astonishment  at  the  carefully  drawn  illustrations  of  khans  with

slightly slanted eyes。

“”Genghis Khan; Chagatai Khan; Tuluy Khan and Kublai Khan the Ruler of

China;“” read Master Osman before closing the book and taking up another。

We  came  across  an  incredibly  beautiful  illustration  depicting  the  scene  in

which  Ferhad;  empowered  by  love;  carries  his  beloved  Shirin  and  her  horse

away on his shoulder。 To convey the passion and woe of the lovers; the rocks

on  the  mountain;  the  clouds  and  the  three  noble  cypresses  witnessing

Ferhad’s act of love were drawn with a trembling grief…stricken hand in such

agony that Master Osman and I were instantly affected by the taste of tears

and sorrow in the falling leaves。 This touching moment had been depicted—as

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the  great  masters  intended—not  to  signify  Ferhad’s  muscular  strength;  but

rather  to  convey  how  the  pain  of  his  love  was  felt  at  once  throughout  the

entire world。

“A Bihzad imitation made in Tabriz eighty years ago;” Master Osman said

as he replaced the volume and opened another。

This was a picture that showed the forced friendship between the cat and

the  mouse  from  Kelile  and  Dimne。  Out  in  the  fields;  a  poor  mouse;  caught

between the attacks of a marten on the ground and a hawk in the air; finds his

salvation  in  an  unfortunate  cat  caught  in  a  hunter’s  trap。  They  e  to  an

agreement:  The  cat;  pretending  to  be  the  mouse’s  friend;  licks  him;  thereby

scaring away the marten and the hawk。 In turn; the mouse cautiously frees the

cat  from  the  snare。  Even  before  I  could  understand  the  painter’s  sensibility;

the  master  had  stuffed  the  book  back  beside  the  other  volumes  and  had

randomly opened another。

This was a pleasant picture of a mysterious woman and a man: The woman

had elegantly opened one hand while asking a question; holding her knee with

the other over her green cloak; as the man turned to her and listened intently。

I  looked  at  the  picture  avidly;  jealous  of  the  intimacy;  love  and  friendship

between them。

Putting  that  book  down;  Master  Osman  opened  to  a  page  from  another

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