Inspirations

‘Well, if we don’t understand you, then who does? You’ll never be smarter than the cat or the old woman, not to mention myself. Stop making a fuss, child! And thank your Creator for all the kindness that has been shown to you. Haven’t you ended up in a warm house, with companions that you can learn something from? But you’re a fool, and it’s not amusing to be around you. Believe me, it’s for your own good that I’m telling you these unpleasant things. That’s how you know who your true friends are. So see to it that you lay eggs and learn to purr and throw sparks.’

‘I think I’ll go out into the wide world,’ said the duckling.

‘Well, go ahead!’ said the hen.

And so the duckling left. He floated on the water, then dove down, but all the animals ignored him because he was ugly.

Then autumn came, the leaves in the forest turned brown and yellow, the wind seized hold of them so they danced around, and the sky looked cold. The clouds hung heavy with hail and snow-flakes, and on the fence stood a raven, shrieking ‘Ow! Ow!’ from sheer cold. Yes, you could end up freezing just by thinking about it. Things certainly weren’t going well for the poor duckling.

One evening as the sun was setting gloriously, a whole flock of lovely big birds came out of the thickets. The duckling had never seen anything so beautiful. They were a dazzling white, with long supple necks. They were swans. They uttered quite a wondrous sound, spread out their magnificent long wings, and flew away from the cold regions to the warmer countries, to open waters. They climbed so high, so high, and the little ugly duckling felt quite strange. He spun around in the water like a wheel, stretching his neck high up into the air after them, uttering a cry so loud and strange that it scared even him. Oh, he couldn’t forget those lovely birds, those happy birds. As soon as he lost sight of them, he dove straight down to the bottom, and when he came back up, he was practically beside himself. He didn’t know what those birds were called or where they were flying, but he loved them as he had never loved anyone else. He didn’t envy them in the least; how could he even think of wishing for such loveliness? He would have been happy if the ducks had merely allowed him to stay among them. The poor ugly creature!

And the winter was so cold, so cold. The duckling had to swim around in the water to keep it from freezing over. But every night the hole in which he was swimming grew smaller and smaller. It froze so hard that the icy crust crackled. The duckling had to keep moving his legs or the water would close up. At last he grew so weak that he lay quite still and then was frozen into the ice.

Early in the morning a farmer appeared. He saw the duckling, went out, smashed the ice to bits with his wooden clog, and carried the bird home to his wife. There the duckling was revived.

The children wanted to play with him, but the duckling thought they were trying to hurt him and flew in terror right into the milk basin so the milk splashed all over the room. The farmer’s wife screamed and flapped her hands in the air. Then the duckling flew into the trough of butter and then into the flour barrel and out again. What a sight he was! The farmer’s wife screamed and swung at him with the hearth tongs, and the children tumbled all over each other to catch the duckling, as they laughed and shrieked. It was a good thing that the door stood open. Out he rushed into the bushes in the newly fallen snow. There he lay, as if in a daze.

But it would be much too sad to recount all the suffering and misery he had to endure that harsh winter. He was lying in the marsh among the rushes when the sunshine once again began to feel warm. The larks sang. It was lovely springtime.

Then all of a sudden he lifted his wings; they flapped stronger than before and powerfully carried him away. And before he even knew it, he was in a great garden where the apple trees stood in bloom, where the lilacs hung fragrantly on their long green boughs all the way down to the winding waterways. Oh, it was so lovely there, so springtime fresh! And right in front of him, out of the thickets, came three lovely white swans. They ruffled their feathers and floated so lightly on the water. The duckling recognized the magnificent creatures and was stirred by a strange sadness.

‘I’ll fly over to them, those royal birds. And they’ll peck me to death because someone like me, who is so hideous, dares approach them. But it doesn’t matter! Better to be killed b

y them than to be nipped by the ducks, pecked by the hens, kicked by the maid who tends the chicken coops, and to suffer so terribly all winter.’ And be flew out into the water and swam over to the magnificent swans. They saw him and came gliding toward him with ruffled feathers. ‘Go ahead and kill me!’ said the poor bird, and he bent his head down to the surface of the water and waited for death. But what did he see in the clear water? He saw beneath him his own image, and he was no longer a clumsy, greyish-black bird, horrid and hideous. He was a swan!

It doesn’t matter if you’re born in a duck yard when you’ve been lying inside a swan’s egg.

He actually felt glad about all the suffering and hardships he had endured. Now he could appreciate his happiness and all the loveliness that awaited him. And the great swans swam all around him, stroking him with their bills.

Several little children came into the garden. They threw bread and grain into the water, and the youngest of them cried, ‘There’s a new one!’

And the other children also shouted joyfully, ‘Yes, a new one has arrived!’ And they clapped their hands and danced around. They ran to find Father and Mother. Bread and cakes were tossed into the water, and they all said, ‘The new one is the most beautiful of all! So young and so lovely!’ And the old swans bowed to him.

Then he felt quite bashful and tucked his head behind his wings. He didn’t know what to make of it. He was much too happy, but not the least bit proud, because a good heart is never proud. He thought about how he had been badgered and scorned, and now he heard everyone say that he was the loveliest of all the lovely birds. The lilacs dipped their boughs all the way down to him in the water, and the sun shone so warm and so fine. Then he ruffled his feathers, raised his slender neck, and rejoiced with all his heart. ‘I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the ugly duckling!’

Tales from the Thousand and One Nights

The Prologue

The Tale of King Shahriyar and his Brother Shahzaman

It is related – but Allah alone is wise and all-knowing – that long ago there lived in the lands of India and China a Sassanid king who commanded great armies and had numerous courtiers, followers and servants. He left two sons, both renowned for their horsemanship – especially the elder, who inherited the kingdom of his father and governed it with such justice that all his subjects loved him. He was called King Shahriyar. His younger brother was named Shahzaman and was king of Samarkand.

The two brothers continued to reign happily in their kingdoms, and after a period of twenty years King Shahriyar felt a great longing to see his younger brother. He ordered his Vizier to go to Samarkand and invite him to his court.

The Vizier set out promptly on his mission and journeyed many days and nights through deserts and wildernesses until he arrived at Shahzaman’s city and was admitted to his presence. He gave him King Shahriyar’s greetings and informed him of his master’s wish to see him. King Shahzaman was overjoyed at the prospect of visiting his brother. He made ready to leave his kingdom, and sent out his tents, camels, mules, servants and retainers. Then he appointed his Vizier as his deputy and set out for his brother’s dominions.

It so happened, however, that at midnight he remembered a present which he had left at his palace. He returned for it unheralded, and entering his private chambers found his wife lying on a couch in the arms of a black slave. At this the world darkened before his eyes; and he thought: ‘If this can happen when I am scarcely out of my city, how will this foul woman act when I am far away?’ He then drew his sword and killed them both as they lay on the couch. Returning at once to his retainers, he gave orders for departure, and journeyed until he reached his brother’s capital.

Shahriyar rejoiced at the news of his approach and went out to meet him. He embraced his guest and welcomed him to his festive city. But while Shahriyar sat entertaining his brother, Shahzaman, haunted by the thought of his wife ’s perfidy, was pale and sick at heart. Shahriyar perceived his distress, but said nothing, thinking that he might be troubled over the affairs of his kingdom. After a few days, however, Shahriyar said to him: ‘I see that you are pale and care-worn.’ Shahzaman answered: ‘I am afflicted with a painful sore.’ But he kept from him the story of his wife ’s treachery. Then Shahriyar invited his brother to go hunting with him, hoping that the sport might dispel his gloom. Shahzaman declined, and Shahriyar went alone to the hunt.

While Shahzaman sat at one of the windows overlooking the King’s garden, he saw a door open in the palace, through which came twenty slave-girls and twenty Negroes. In their midst was his brother’s queen, a woman of surpassing beauty. They made their way to the fountain, where they all undressed and sat on the grass. The King’s wife then called out: ‘Come Mass’ood!’ and there promptly came to her a black slave, who mounted her after smothering her with embraces and kisses. So also did the Negroes with the slave-girls, revelling together till the approach of night.

When Shahzaman beheld this spectacle, he thought: ‘By Allah, my misfortune is lighter than this!’ He was dejected no longer, and ate and drank after his long abstinence.

Shahriyar, when he returned from the hunt, was surprised to see his brother restored to good spirits and full health. ‘How is it, my brother,’ asked Shahriyar, ‘that when I last saw you, you were pale and melancholy, and now you look well and contented?’

‘As for my melancholy,’ replied Shahzaman, ‘I shall now tell you the reason: but I cannot reveal the cause of my altered condition. Know then, that after I had received your invitation, I made preparations for the journey and left my city; but having forgotten the pearl which I was to present to you, I returned for it to the palace. There, on my couch, I found my wife lying in the embrace of a black slave. I killed them both and came to your kingdom, my mind oppressed with bitter thoughts.’