Story 27

  It once happened that on a journey to the Hejaz a company of young

and pious men, whose sentiments harmonized with mine, were my

fellow-travellers. They occasionally sung and recited spiritual verses

but we had with us also an a'bid, who entertained a bad opinion of the

behaviour of the dervishes and was ignorant of their sufferings.

When we reached the palm-grove of the Beni Hallal, a black boy of

the encampment, falling into a state of excitement, broke out in a

strain which brought down the birds from the sky. I saw, however,

the camel of the a'bid, which began to prance, throwing him and

running into the desert.

        Knowest thou what that matutinal bulbul said to me?

        What man art thou to be ignorant of love?

        The Arabic verses threw a camel into ecstasy and joy.

        If thou hast no taste thou art an ill-natured brute.

        When a camel's head is turned by the frenzy of joy

        And a man does not feel it, he must be an ass.

        When the winds blow over the plain

        The branches of the ban-tree bend, not hard rocks.

        Whatever thou beholdest chants his praises.

        He knows this who has the true perception.

        Not only the bulbul on the rosebush sings praises

        But every bramble is a tongue, extolling him.