anger。 The calligraphers and illuminators of Mashhad thereupon dispersed to
other cities and regions; to the book…arts workshops of other sultans and
princes。
Miraculously; however; Sultan Ibrahim Mirza’s marvelous volume did not
remain unfinished; for in his service he had a devoted librarian。 This man
would travel on horseback all the way to Shiraz where the best master gilders
lived; then he’d take a couple pages to Isfahan seeking the most elegant
calligraphers of Nestalik script; afterward he’d cross great mountains till he’d
made it all the way to Bukhara where he’d arrange the picture’s position
and have the figures drawn by the great master painter who worked under the
Uzbek Khan; next he’d go down to Herat to mission one of its half…blind
old masters to paint from memory the sinuous curves of plants and leaves;
visiting another calligrapher in Herat; he’d direct him to inscribe; in gold Rika
script; the sign above a door within the picture; finally; he’d be off again to the
south; to Kain; where displaying the half…page he had finished during his six
months of traveling; he’d receive the praises of Sultan Ibrahim Mirza。
At this pace; it was clear that the book would never be pleted; so
mounted Tatar couriers were hired。 In addition to the manuscript leaf; which
was to receive artwork and scripted text; each horseman was given a letter
describing the desired work in question to the artist。 Thus; messengers
carrying manuscript pages passed over the roads of Persia; Khorasan; the Uzbek
territory and Transoxania。 The creation of the book sped up with the fleet
messengers。 At times; on a snowy night; Chapter 11 and 29; for example;
55
would cross paths in a caravansary wherein the howlings of wolves could be
heard; and as they struck up a friendly conversation; they’d discover that they
were working on the same book project and would try to determine between
themselves where and in which fable the prospective pages; retrieved from
their rooms for this purpose; actually belonged。
I was meant to be among the pages of this illustrated manuscript that I
sadly heard was pleted today。 Unfortunately; on a cold winter’s day; the
Tatar courier who was carrying me as he crossed a rocky mountain pass was
ambushed by thieves。 First they beat the poor Tatar; then they robbed him and
raped him in a manner befitting thieves before mercilessly killing him。 As a
result; I know nothing about the page I’ve fallen from。 My request is that you
look at me and ask: “Were you perhaps meant to provide shade for Mejnun
disguised as a shepherd as he visited Leyla in her tent?” or “Were you meant to
fade into the night; representing the darkness in the soul of a wretched and