ABSTRACT
Their words are whispered and dispersed through space,
And clear souls dreaming see the future thence As fire is mirrored in the water’s face.
One night Sháh Núshírwán, the wise and shrewd, That lucid spirit, lay asleep and dreamed : A royal tree grew up before the throne, And joyed his heart. He called for harp and wine And minstrelsy, but on his throne of peace And joy there sat with him a sharp-toothed boar, Sat ready-dight for revelry and claimed To quaff the wine from Núshírwán’s own cup. Sol rose in Taurus and the skylark’s note Was heard on all sides yet the monarch sat Upon his throne in dudgeon at that dream. They called the interpreter of dreams and held A session of the magnates at the court. The Sháh narrated to those archimages, The counsellors, his dream. The interpreter
C 1657 Made no reply, he knew of no such case, And one that pleadeth ignorance is excused. The Sháh, thus left unanswered by the sages, Was instant what to do in his concern, And sent to every side an archimage, One enterprising, shrewd of heart, and wise. He made each take a purse and entertained High hopes from their return. In every purse There were ten thousand drachms that every envoy Might seek out some interpreter of dreams, Some man of understanding, some adept, To solve the world-king’s dream and to reveal The mystery, and then bestow on such A full purse and, the royal compliments.1
