Ali's Answer

[ARGUMENT.--It is related that a young man named Aly ben Bou Fayd, falling

in love with a young woman, begged his father to ask her in marriage for

him. His father refused. Angered, Aly procured a gun, engraved his name

upon it, and betook himself to the chase. His father having claimed this

gun he answered:]

You ask the gun I have that bears my name.

I will not give it, save against my will.

How comes it, father, that you treat me thus?

You say, "Bring back the gun to put in pledge."

Now, may God pardon you for acting thus!

I leave you in your land, and, all for you,

I swear by God I never shall return.

Your conduct is unwise. Our enemies

Insult me, O my father. And I think

That you will give up your ancestral home

And garden too. And can I after that

Recover my good gun?

I shall not be

Enfeebled that I am no more with you.

No longer are you father unto me,

And I shall be no more your cherished son.

I think, my sire, that you are growing old.

Your teeth are falling out from day to day.

They whom you visit will not serve you more.

Your friends won't serve you longer, and your sire,

He who begot you, will not help you now.

In your adversity no help will come

From all your kindred's high nobility.

May God make easy all the paths you tread!

His uncle having threatened him with death, he answered:

Keep far away from him who has not come

To thee in his misfortune. Leave him free.

My uncle writes to me this very day

That if he held in his own hands the leaf

Of my life's destiny he'd blot it out.

If he had in his hands this leaf, O say to him:

Let him efface it openly, nor hide

You'll not be able, save with God's own help

To bear the separation. As for those

Who are so evil, we will spare them now.

The barrel of this gun is rusted red.

The lock is forceless, 'twill no longer act.

Misfortune overtake the man who leaves

His child to perish! For the least of things

He says to me, "Come, give me up this gun."

I go to seek the desert. I will go

Among the tribe they call Oulad Azyz,

And live by force. But, pray you say to her,

The fair one with the deftly braided hair,

I leave the tribe, but shall return for her.

I disappear, but shall come back for her.

And while I live, I never shall forget.

I swear it by the head of that sweet one

Who for the sake of Ali was accused.

The cup of passion which I offered her

O'ercame her lovely spirit's tenderness.

The cup of love intoxicated her.

O God, Creator of us all, give her

The strength to bear my absence! Sad for me

The hour I dream of her I love so well.

Her love is in my heart and burns it up.

My heart is sad. 'Tis love that crushes it.

It leaves my heart reduced to naught but dust.

So that I am consumed by vigils long,

And never taste refreshing sleep at all.

So that I'm like a bird with broken wings,

Just like a bird who tries to lift its wings!

And so my spirit is not healed. There comes

To me no comfort nor relief. The eyes

Of my beloved are as bright as day.

One word from her would send the friends to death.