Original content

English translation

A young man of perfect refinement, nicknamed Ashtar (the Camel), fell in love with a beautiful girl named Jida, from among the chieftains of the tribe, and the bond of affection and the rule of union between them grew firm. They concealed that secret from near and far and strove to hide it as much as possible, but by the force of the saying:

Love is a secret that cannot be told, nor hidden behind two hundred veils.

At last their secret came out into the open, and their hidden matter emerged from the seat of concealment into the assembly. Wars broke out between their two tribes and blood was shed. Jida's tribe pulled up the tent of their dwelling from that land and cast the burden of residence into another land.

When the hardships of separation grew prolonged and the promptings of longing became insistent, one day Ashtar said to one of his friends: Could you come with me and help me in visiting Jida, for my soul has reached my lips in yearning for her, and my day has ended in night through parting from her? He said: To hear is to obey; whatever you say, I am your servant, and to whatever you command I hasten. They both rose and prepared their mounts, and for one day and one night and another day until night they cut the road, until by night they reached that land, and they alighted in a mountain gorge near that tribe and made the mounts lie down.

Ashtar said to that friend: Rise and, as one searching for a lost camel, pass through this tribe, and mention the name to no one except a certain slave-girl, so-and-so by name, who is the shepherd of the sheep and the confidante of hidden secrets. Convey my greeting to her, and ask her news of Jida, and show her the place where we have alighted.

That friend says: I rose and entered that tribe. The first person to come before me was that slave-girl. I conveyed Ashtar's greeting and asked about Jida's condition. She said: Her husband has become strict with her and does all he can to guard her; but your appointed place is those trees behind such-and-such hill—you should be there at the time of the night prayer.

I returned quickly and conveyed that news to Ashtar. We both rose and quietly drew the mounts along until we reached the appointed place at the appointed time.

We were waiting with weeping and sighing, seated on the road for the beloved, when suddenly from the road came the sound of ornaments and the ringing of anklets, meaning: Rise, for that fourteen-night moon has come.

Ashtar leapt from his place and went to meet her, greeted her and kissed her hand. I turned my face from them and hurried to another side. They called out to me: Come, there is nothing unseemly here, and nothing but talk upon the tongue. I came back, and the two sat down and joined in words of the past and the future.

In the end Ashtar said: Tonight I hope that you will be with me and will not scratch the face of my hope with the nail of parting. Jida said: By God, this is in no way possible, and no matter is harder for me than this. Do you wish that those former misfortunes come again, and that the turning of the days should open anew upon me the gates of grievous pains? Ashtar said: By God, I will not let you go and will not release my hold on your skirt.

Whatever comes, let it come; whatever will be, let it be.

Jida said: Does this friend of yours have the endurance to carry out whatever I say? I rose and said: Whatever you say I will do, and I will count it a thousand favors upon my soul, even if my life should be lost in it. And she took off her clothes and said: Put these on and give me your clothes.

Then she said: Rise and enter my tent and sit behind the curtain. My husband will come and bring a bowl of milk and will say: This is your supper, take it. Do not be quick in taking it, but hold back a little; he will either put it into your hand or set it on the ground and leave, and until the next morning he will not come.

I did just as she said. When her husband brought the bowl of milk, I put on a long show of coyness. He meant to set it on the ground, and I meant to take it from his hand; my hand struck the bowl and it overturned and the milk spilled. He grew angry and said: This one is quarreling with me. He reached out and took from that dwelling a whip of the hide of the elk-ox, cut from the back of the neck to the base of the tail, twisted together with the force of a powerful and cruel hand.

In thickness the likeness of a viper, in length the counterpart of a serpent; the image of a snake was his craft's design, and the tablet of that design was my naked body.

He raised it and made my back bare like the belly of a drum, and like a drummer on the day of battle he beat it with successive strokes and continuous blows. I had neither the daring to cry out—for I feared he would recognize my voice—nor the strength to endure—for I dreaded he would tear the skin off me.

I resolved to rise and cut his throat with a dagger and shed his blood. Then I said: Strife will arise that no one's hand can quell. I endured. His mother and sister became aware and pulled me from his hand and took him out.

An hour had not passed when Jida's mother came in, supposing that I was Jida. I burst into weeping and raised a lament and drew the garment over my head and turned my back to her. She said: O daughter, fear God and do not undertake anything contrary to your husband's nature, for one hair of your husband is better than a thousand Ashtars. And who even is Ashtar, that for his sake you should suffer hardship and drink this draught? Then she rose and said: I will send your sister so that tonight she may be your companion and confidante, and she left. After an hour Jida's sister came and took to weeping and cursed the one who had beaten me. I said nothing to her; she lay down beside me.

When she had settled, I reached out and firmly grasped her mouth and said: Behold, your sister is with Ashtar, and I have suffered all this hardship in her place; keep this hidden, or else both you will be disgraced and so will I. At first full alarm came over her, and in the end that alarm turned into intimacy, and until morning she kept telling that story and laughing.

When morning broke, Jida came in, and when she saw us together she was afraid and said: Woe, who is this beside you? I said: Your sister, and this is fine sisterhood toward you. Then she said: How did she come to be here? I said: Ask her about that, for time is short. I took up my own clothes and rejoined Ashtar, and we both mounted and set off on the road.

Along the way I recited this qasida to him. He uncovered my back and saw the fresh whip-wounds and apologized greatly and said: The sages have said: A friend is needed for the day of hardship; otherwise, on the day of ease, friends are never lacking.

O heart, if one day sorrow comes upon you, if you have a friend to share the grief, there is no grief. A friend is needed for the day of hardship; otherwise, on the day of ease, friends are never lacking.