The Scented Garden

The Peace, the Jealousy, and the Ecstasy of God. 81 XVIII THE TRYST There are no degrees in Allah, O boy with ears1 like new moons ! and there is no degree in the ex- cellence of thy podex ; nor is the joy of thy lover, when he delights therein, from day to day dimi- nished or increased. This is the sigillum of perfection in any work. The perfect lover is calm and equable ; storms of thunder, quakings of the earth, losses of goods, punishment from great men, none of these things cause him to rise from his divan, or to remove the silken tube of the rose-perfumed huqqa from his mouth. I can even take pleasure with Laila, O no longer jealous one ! When thou wast away from me, I was unable to regard her or her companions (the thunder-smitten bitches2 !) without excessive sick- ness. It was for thy sake, o mischievous one ! that I caused the eunuchs3 to fornicate with Zuleikah in a painful manner, while I beat her with whips of hide. So that she became unconscious ; and her repu- tation was of chastity and prudence.4 Therefore, as to-night is full moon, I will ac- quaint thee with a certain cherry-tree that hangs over a cool reach of Ruknabad. Under its blossom we will sit in our boat and listen to the water. Go therefore and anoint thee with rose ; and besmear thy podex with jasmine mixed with ambergris in oil5 ; for not until the dawn breaks will El Qahar withdraw his member.6