Story of the old woman who used to depilate and rouge her ugly face, though it could never be put right and become pleasing.

1222 - There was a decrepit old woman aged ninety years, her face covered with wrinkles and her complexion saffron.

1223 - Her face was in folds like the surface of a traveller’s food-wallet, but there remained in her the passionate desire for a husband.

1224 - Her teeth had dropped out and her hair had become as milk: her figure was like a bow, and every sense in her was decayed.

1225 - Her passion for a husband and her lust and desire were in full force: the passion for snaring, though the trap had fallen to pieces.

1226 - She was like a cock that crows at the wrong time, a road that leads nowhere, a big fire beneath an empty kettle;

1229 - A dog’s teeth drop out when it grows old: it leaves people and takes to eating dung;

1230 - Look at these sexagenarian dogs ! Their dog-teeth get sharper at every moment.

1231 - The hairs drop from the fur of an old dog; see these old dogs clad in satin !

1232 - See how their passionate desire and greed for women and gold, like the progeny of dogs, is increasing continually !

1233 - Such a life as this, which is Hell’s stock-in-trade, is a shambles for the butchers of Wrath;

1234 - When people say to him, “May your life be long !” he is delighted and opens his mouth in laughter.

1236 - If he had seen a hair’s tip of the future state, he would have said to him, “May your life be like this !”

Story of the dervish who blessed a man of Gilan, saying, “May God bring you back in safety to your home and household !”

1237 - One day a sturdy beggar, very fond of bread and carried a basket, accosted a Khwaja of Gilan.

1238 - On receiving some bread from him, he cried, “O You, whose help is sought, bring him back happy to his home and household !”

1239 - He said, “If the house is the one that I have seen, may God bring you there, O squalid wretch !”

1240 - Worthless folk humiliate every story-teller: if his words are lofty, they make them low;

1241 - For the tale is in proportion to the hearer: the tailor cuts the coat according to the Khwaja’s figure.

Description of the old woman.

1244 - When he has become advanced in years and is not a man in this Way, bestow the name of “aged crone” upon him.

1245 - He has neither capital and basis, nor is he capable of receiving stock-in-trade.

1248 - Neither humble supplication nor any beauty to show pride: his, coat on coat, is stinking, like an onion.

1249 - He has not traversed any path, nor the foot for the path: that shameless one has neither glow nor burning (passion) and sighs.

Story of the dervish to whom, whenever he begged anything from a certain house, he used to say, “It is not to be had here.”

1250 - beggar came to a house and asked for a piece of dry bread or a piece of moist bread.

1251 - The owner of the house said, “Where is bread in this place ? Are you crazy ? How is this a baker’s shop ?”

1252 - “At least,” he begged, “get me a little bit of fat.” “Why,” said he, “it isn’t a butcher’s shop.”

1253 - He said, “O master of the house, give me a pittance of flour.” “Do you think this is a mill ?” he replied.

1254 - “Well then,” said he, “give me some water from the reservoir.” “Why,” he replied, “it isn’t a river or a watering-place.”

1255 - Whatever he asked for, from bread to bran, he was mocking and deriding him.

1256 - The beggar went in and drew up his skirt: he jumped into the house and wanted to relieve himself.

1257 - He (the householder) cried, “Hey, hey !” “Be quiet, O morose man,” said he, “Since this is a ruin, I had better answer nature’s call.

1258 - Since there is no means of living (zístan) here, upon a house like this defecate (rístan) oportet.”

1259 - Since you are not a falcon, so as to catch the prey, a falcon hand trained for the King’s hunting;

1260 - Nor a peacock painted with a hundred designs, so that eyes should be illumined by the picture which you present;

1261 - Nor a parrot, so that when sugar is given to you, ears should bend to your sweet talk;

1262 - Nor a nightingale to sing, like a lover, sweetly and plaintively in the meadow or the tulip-garden;

1263 - Nor a hoopoe to bring messages, nor are you like a stork to make your nest on high,

1264 - In what work are you, and for what are you bought ? What bird are you, and with what are you eaten ?

Return to the tale of the old woman

1268 - Since that autumn desired to be wed, that lustful one plucked out the hair of her eyebrows.

1269 - The old woman took the mirror before her face, that she might beautify her cheeks and face and mouth.

1270 - She rubbed gleefully rouge several times, the creases of her face did not become more concealed,

1271 - That filthy hag was cutting out portions of the Holy Book and sticking them on her face,

1272 - In order that the creases of her face might be hidden and that she might become the bezel in the ring of fair.

1273 - She was putting bits of the Book all over her face; they always dropped off when she put on her veil (chador);

1274 - Then she would stick them on again with spittle on all sides of her face,

1275 - And once more that bezel would arrange her veil, and the bits of the Book would fall from her face to the ground.

1276 - Since they always dropped off though she tried many an artifice, she exclaimed, “A hundred curses on Iblís !”

1277 - Immediately Iblís took shape and said, “O luckless dried-up harlot,

1278 - In all my life I have never thought of this: I have never seen this by any harlot except you.

1279 - You have sown unique seed in infamy: you have not left a single Scripture in the world.

1280 - You are a hundred Devils, troop on troop: let me alone, O foul hag !”

1281 - How long will you steal portions of the lore of the Book, in order that your face may be coloured like an apple ?

1282 - How long will you steal the words of the men of God that you may sell and obtain applause ?

1283 - The daubed-on colour never made you rosy; the tied-on bough never performed the function of the stump.

1284 - At last, when the veil of death comes over you, these bits of the Book drop away from your face.

1285 - When the call comes to arise and depart, thereafter the arts of disputation vanish.

1286 - The world of silence comes into view. Stop ! Alas for him that has not a familiarity within him !

1287 - Polish your heart for a day or two: make that mirror your book,

1288 - For from the reflection of the imperial Joseph old Zalikha became young anew.

1289 - The chilly temperature of “the old woman’s cold spell” is changed by the July sun.

1290 - A dry-lipped bough is changed into a flourishing palm-tree by the burning of a Mary.

1291 - O old woman, how long will you strive with the destiny ? Seek the cash now: let bygones be.

Ya Ali Madad