He ruled with perfect justice. He was generous. He welcomed every traveler to his camp. His tribesmen prospered. They loved and honored him. And the sayyid, as this chieftain was reverently called, was content, but for one thing: he had no heir.

As the years passed, the sayyid became more discontented. He did not consider all that fortune had given to him, but instead, he brooded on what he had been denied. "Of what use are my jewels and gold, if I have no one to give them to? A man does not live if he has no son to carry on his memory." He prayed. He increased the fervor of his prayers, and, at last, God gave him his heart's desire: His wife gave birth to a son.

At birth, the infant Qays was of extraordinary beauty. When he was two weeks old, his face was as round and beaming as the full moon, and every year his beauty increased. During this time the sayyid was known to have said, "Is there any man on earth as fortunate as I?"

When the boy was of school age he was sent to study. He was so quick of mind that when he was given a pen, he mastered writing, and when he was given a book, he learned to read. He excelled in all disciplines, but most of all, he excelled in the art of conversation. His schoolmates delighted in listening to him, for when he spoke, his words were as sweet as music, his wit as sharp as an arrow, and his wisdom as lustrous as a pearl.

Then one day, after several years, the daughter of a mighty chieftain came to study in the school. This little girl was like a jewel that one seldom sees. She was as slender as a cypress. Her skin was as white as milk, her lips and cheeks the colour of roses, and her dark eyes, both gentle and bold, could pierce a man with one glance. Because of her lustrous black hair, she was called Layla, which means night.

From the moment Layla entered the classroom, Qays could neither read nor write. He could only stare at her in wonder. "Layla..." he whispered, as if in prayer, "Layla..." All that day and all the next, he could say no word but Layla.

As the days passed, while the others played in the courtyard or studied, Qays did nothing but gaze at Layla. Soon the other children noticed what was plain to see, and since they were too young to understand love, they laughed at Qays. They pointed at him and said, "Qays has lost his heart! Qays has lost his head! Qays loves Layla!"

Qays tried to hide his love, but his eyes returned of their own will to Layla's face. As for Layla, she would lower her head and blush. Then she would raise her head, blush and smile shyly back at Qays. Each of them had become intoxicated with the scent of a flower which has no name. At night they went eagerly to their beds to dream of each other. And in the morning they rushed to school so they could inhale the fragrance of their love.

But the other children missed Qays. They were jealous of his affections for Layla. Behind the teacher's back they taunted him: "Have you heard? Qays loves Layla! Qays loves Layla!"

At last, Qays could no longer contain himself, and one day, in the middle of the classroom while the others were reciting their lessons, he stood up and shouted, "Layla! Layla! LAYLA!" Then he ran from the classroom into the streets and bazaars shouting her name, "Layla! LAYLA! People who watched him shook their heads and said, "He is a majnun, a majnun." And so it was that Qays came to be called Majnun, which means madman.

When Layla's father heard that a young man had insulted his tribe by shouting his daughter's name in the streets, he ordered Layla to be taken from the school and brought to the desert camp where she was confined to a tent.

Majnun sat listlessly in the classroom staring at her empty place. When he could no longer bear her absence, he fled to the desert and walked until he came to the tribe of Layla's people. He hid behind a tree and waited, hoping for a glimpse of his beloved.

One night, Layla, restless and sleepless, went to the door of her tent. Majnun suddenly appeared, and in the moonllight, they gazed at each other. They saw reflected in each other's faces their own fear and pain and love. Neither stirred or spoke a word. When dawn came, Majnun turned and fled.

After that evening Majnun lost his heart. And as he lost his heart, he lost his reason. He wandered in the desert, and as he wandered, he tore his clothes and wildly sang his songs. From afar, people would say, "There goes Majnun, once called Qays. Because of his love of Layla, he wanders in the desert and brings dishonor to his father and his tribe."

The chieftain of the Banu Amir grieved greatly. He summoned his counselors to him, and each gave an account of what he had heard. After careful consideration, the chieftain said, "My son has lost his senses. Layla is the jewel through which he sees the world. If he wins Layla, his senses may be restored."

So the chieftain set out wiht a small delegation of counselors and a caravan of camels laden with precious gifts. The sayyid was received with friendliness and deference by Layla's people. After feasting, the sayyid said, "I have come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. My son wishes to drink from your daughter's pure fountain. I am not ashamed of such a request. I have wealth and followers and can be a great friend or a formidable enemy. State your daughter's dowry, and I will pay. Be wise, for tomorrow the price may fall."

But Layla's father was a proud man. "Do you imagine that you can change fate by wishing?" he said. "You speak of the outside, but what about the inside? All the world knows of your son's madness. Shall I mate a flawless gem with a faulty one? No! Cure your son first, then you may mention marriage."

Sadly, the sayyid returned to his camp and told his child what Layla's father had said. "Love's fool," he said to his son, "why must you worship only Layla? In our tribe there are a hundred sweetly scented girls, with lips like hyacinths, who are as lovely as the springtime. They are surely as beautiful as Layla. Be patient and you will have what you want. The sea consists of tiny drops of water, the deserts of tiny grains of sand. Bliss will come. It is the turquoise in the seal of God. Let your happiness grow slowly. with patience you will find another stone--even more precious. I tell you, forget Layla; choose another. Then you will be happy."

Majnun cried out in despair. Why did his father not understand? It was Layla--only Layla--that he loved.

He fled again to the desert. He tore his hair and sang songs of Layla. He wandered from village to village. At first crowds off villagers follow, jeering him, but when they came closer and heard his words, not one who listened failed to weep for the singer and his fate.

But Majnun did not see or hear them. He had fallen into emptiness. It was as if his name has been torn from the book of Life. He cried to Layla, "My beloved, send a greeting, a message, a word. I know you are in prison, but I am starving for a token, a gesture from you. I have given away everything. My only companion is my shadow, but I do not speak to him, for I do not wish you to have a rival. Once I had your shadow, but that, too, has been taken from me. Now what is left to me? What hope? My love for you is a riddle which has no solution; it is a code that cannot be deciphered."

He wandered aimlessly until his strength gave out. Then he fell down and prayed for death. "Let the rocks fall and crush me. I am an outcast. I bring shame to my father and my tribe. Let me be freed from myself and my shame."

From a nearby hill, a group of shepherds saw Majnun fall. They came and made a litter for Majnun and carried him back to the camp of the Banu Amir. There he lay in his own tent, singing songs and calling Layla's name.

With a heavy heart the chieftain called his counselors again and said, "Does not the whole world go to Mecca to ask God's blessings? Let us too pray to the Almighty One to cure Majnun."

And so in the last month of the year, the month of the pilgrimage, the sayyid and his kinsmen departed from their camp and traveled to Mecca. They devised a litter for Majnun, and Majnun was carried as gently as if he were an infant in his cradle. When they entered Mecca, the sayyid showered gold coins on the crowds of people. Then, trembling with hope, he brought Majnun to the shrine and taking his hand, said softly, "My son, ask God to save you from your passion. Pray to him to end your madness. Pray to him that you will be cured."

Majnun pulled his hand away and laughed wildly. Then he stretched his hands to the shrine. He touched the stone and cried, "Oh God, let me not be cured of love, but let my passion grow! Let me love for love's sake! Take what is left of my life and give it to Layla. Make my love a hundred times greater than it is today!"

When the sayyid heard Majnun's prayers, he bowed his head in grief. The caravan returned to the camp of the Banu Amir. "I have tried," the sayyid told his kinsmen, "but Majnun will never be cured. Before the holy shrine he blissed Layla and cursed himself."

News of Majnun's laughter at the holy house soon spread throughout Arabia. When Layla's father heard, he was incensed. "This madman destroys the honor of our tribe. He wanders in the desert dancing and kissing the earth. The people gather about him and listen and learn his songs. My daughter's name is on every man's tongue." Layla's father sent two emissaries to the sultan's court to register his complaint.

"Majnun is a man possessed," the messengers said. "He dishonors our tribe. Order him to be punished so that the name of layla will be unstained."

"So be it. Let him be punished as you wish," the sultan's prefect said. When a kinsmen of the Banu Amir, who was at the court, heard the sultan's words, he hastened to his tribe to inform the sayyid.

At once the sayyid, with his tribesmen, set out to find Majnun. They searched the desert and after many days found him in a desolate gorge. He was moaning and sighing, talking in verse. His body was wasted, his bones were showing through his skin.

When Majnun saw his father, he wept. "Haven of my soul, forgive me, Father. Forgive me. What can I do? I am not the one who holds the thread of my fate."

"My son, you are young. Youth has led you into confusion. Each of us has a weakness which we hide from the world. Our true friends reveal our faults so we can cure ourselves. I am your friend. Let me be your mirror. If you would marry, you must learn to control yourself. You must learn patience and prudence.

"Layla's father will seek you with the sword. You mean more to me than life itself. Do not abandon me. Return to your tribe so you may be protected, and those who love you may bring you laughter and happiness."

"My father, your majesty is as great as heaven itself. I kneel before you. Your words scorch me, but I cannot change my destiny. All creatures are ruled by destiny. To love Layla is my fate. I cannot throw off my burden. And why should I be afraid? He who goes in search of his beloved is not afraid. My soul is in the fire. No man can harm me."

The sayyid brought Majnun from the rocky gorge to his tent. His kinswomen brought him food and water, and his mother whispered soothing words. His childhood friends came to entertain him, but to Majnun they were all strangers. He stared blankly in the cool darkness of the tent. Even his mohter was a stranger to him. After three days, he tore open the curtain of his tent and fled again to the wilderness. He roamed the desolate county of rocks and sand. His feet became like iron. The people mocked him. They jeered him, and yet, they could find no fault with his songs.

In all this time, Layla has become more beautiful. Her gazelle's eyes caught every man who chanced to gaze at her; her midnight tresses bound them to her. She was thought to be the most beautiful girl in all of Arabia. On the outside she blossomed, but on the inside she was devoured with sorrow. From morning to night she burned for Majnun. She did not reveal her love to anyone but repeated his name through the hours to her shadow. She lived between fire and water--the fire of her passion and the water of her tears.

And yet, her lover's voice came to her, for he was a poet and no tent could keep out his verses. Every child in the bazzar knew his songs, every wanderer in the desert repeated his poems.

Layla heard his songs and secretly composed her own. She wrote them on scraps of paper and threw them to the wind. Any passerby who found Layla's songs knew for whom they were intended and brought them to Majnun, hoping for a reward of a song. Thus the wind carried the lovers' melodies to and fro across the desert.

Not far from Layla's tent was a palm grove which Layla and her companions often visited. One afternoon the girls were singing and laughing and playing. Layla withdrew from the others to sit under a tree and speak with her grief. "My faithful one, if only the garden gate would open and you would walk in. You would sit next to me and we would gaze into each other's eyes. You are like an elm tree and I...But perhaps, you have already suffered too much for my sake?"

At that moment, she heard a voice cry from outside the garden wall, "Oh Layla, how can your heart be so frivolous, while mine is wounded by the arrows of the night?"

When Layla realized it was Majnun's voice, she burst into tears and wept bitterly. One of her friends went to Layla's mother and told her that Layla's heart was still devoted to Majnun. Layla's mother began to watch Layla. She saw her steal out of the tent at night and stand by the gate, waiting. She saw her toss tiny notes to the wind. But she was afraid to speak to her daughter. She was afraid of her daughter's grief. She was silent. Layla was silent. And both grieved.

Some days later a young man from the tribe of Assad who was journeying across the desert caught a glimpse through the wall of Layla sitting in the palm grove with her companions. The man, whos name was Ibni Salam, was from a rich and noble family. He was nicknamed Bakht, because he always had his way in all his desires. As soon as he returned home, he sent a matchmaker to Layla's father with a generous offer. Layla's father was pleased with the offer, but he said, "Be patient and wait. My daughter is delicate. Give the bud time to ripen." Ibni Salam had no choice but to wait.

During this time Majnun continued to sing his songs and wander through the desert dressed in rags and crying out Layla's name. One day a Bedouin prince named Nowfal passed the gorge where Majnun lived and saw a long-haired, naked creature crouching by a rock. At first the prince did not know whether what he saw was human, animal, or demon. When he heard the creature weeping, he said, "Who is that woeful being?"

"That is Majnun," he was told. "He has left his tribe to live in the desert. Day and night he composes love songs for his beloved. People come to visit him and bring him food and drink. But he hardly eats. He drinks very little. He lives only for Layla, his beloved."

When the prince heard this, he wanted to help the devoted lover win his heart's desire. He ordered his men to set up a tent in front of the cave and to prepare all kinds of delicacies. But Majnun refused the food and would not respond to any of Nowfal's entreaties. Nowfal was about to give up hope when he spoke Layla's name.

At the sound of Layla's name, Majnun looked up as if he had been touched by the morning sun. He smiled at Nowfal and repeated, "Layla...Layla..." Soon he began to sing, and as Majnun sang, Nowfal listened in amazement and thought, This creature is no madman, he is a great poet.

"You shall have your Layla," Nowfal said, "even if I must fight for her myself. I promise you: Layla will be your wife."

Majnun leapt up and embraced Nowfal. His face glowed with happiness. But a moment later, he became fearful and cried, "But how? Her parents will never agree. They will say, 'Shall we give a flower to the wind?' No, others have tried before. Do not deceive me with false promises."

Nowfal was even more taken with Majnun's passion and replied, "Do you doubt me? I swear to you, I swear to you in God's name, by his prophet, that I will fight for you like a wolf--no, like a lion. I will fight until Layla is yours. But, in return, you must show some patience. Tame your wild heart, if only for a few dyas."

Majnun went with the prince to his camp. The prince gave Majnun fine robes and silk turban. In the prince's company, Majnun became the cheerful young man he had once been. In the mornings the prince and Majnun rode in the desert. In the evenings they feasted, drank wine, and listened to the songs of the minstrels. Majnun's bent and wasted figure uncurled and he began to walk again like a tall reed swaying in the sun. Nowfal was delighted by the change and daily offered his new companion precious gifts. After a week, he became so attached to Majnun that he would not leave his side even for an hour.

But the days Nowfal spoke of turned to months, and one afternoon as they were sitting together, a shadow passed over Majnun's face and he said. "My friend, how can it be that you do not feel my grief? I can not wait any longer. I bet you, keep your promise. Let a thirsty man drink!"

Majnun looked so mournful that Nowfal leapt to his feet and took his sword. He rallied a hundred of his devoted followers and set out for Layla's camp. When he arrived at the camp, Nowfal sent a herald with this message: "I, Nowfal, have come with an army prefared to defeat you. Bring Layla to me so she may be given to the man who is worthy of her. Let his longing be satisfied. Otherwise, we will destroy you like an all-devouring fire."

The herald returned with this reply from Layla's father: "Do you intend to steal the sun? The decision is not yours. I will not give my daughter to a madman. Draw your sword; we know how to break you."

Nowfal then sent a stronger threat and the chieftain replied with further curses. Nowfal was boiling with rage. He wet out toward Layla's tribe, which was by then prepared for battle. When the two armies met, a great crash was heard in the desert as if two mountains had been hurled against each other. Swords and spears ripped apart breasts and limbs. Blood from the wounds of the warriors poured into the sand.

But Majnun did not take part in the fighting. He watched the battle and trembled. He trembled not from fear but from suffering. He suffered for both sides. Each blow was a torment to him shether it struck a friend or an enemy.

As the battle continuved, Majnun became more confused. He was willing to die for Layla but he never intended to have those Layla loved killed. Each time one of Layla's people was struck, Majnun wept. At last he entered the middle of the battle and cried to God for peace.

One of Nowfal's warriors, seeing Majnun standing in the battlefield praying, cried to him, "This is not the moment for noble tears. Take up your sword and fight the enemy. Have you forgotten that we are risking our lives for you?"

"But who am I to fight?" Majnun said. "Your enemies are my freinds. If my beloved's heart beats for your enemy, then I must defend my enemy. My home is my beloved's heart. I wish to die for my beloved, not to kill men."

Nowfal fought unflinchingly, but when the sun set, Majnun turned on Nowfal accusingly and said, "Your promises were great but what have you done? You have destroyed any possibility for me to be united with Layla. Now she must hate me for the harm done to her family."

"What could I do?" Nowfal protested. "The enemy outnumbered us both in men and arms. But I promise you I will not rest until Layla is yours."

Nowfal sent messengers to all the tribes from Medina to Baghdad. He opened his treasure chests and assembled an army that stretched, like an ocean of iron, from horizon to horizon.

Several days later, at dawn, he attacked again. Layla's tribesmen fought bravely. Nowfal fought in the front line, cutting a man's life with each stroke of his sword. The sand turned red. There was so much blood and destruction that by afternoon, even the swords were afraid to strike. Before night, victory belonged to Nowfal.

As a sign of defeat, the elders of Layla's tribe sprinkled earth on their heads. They knelt before Nowfal and kissed the ground. They said, "You are our vitor. Before you, we place our swords and spears. We beg you to allow those of us who remain to go in peace."

Nowfal was glad to be finished with such grief. "Bring me the bride," he said. "Then you and your tribesmen may go in peace."

An old man stepped out of the crowd of defeated tribesmen. He knelt humbly before Nowfal. He bowed his forehead to the dust. He was Layla's father. He said, "I am old and broken and disgraced by all the blood that has been shed for me. You are my master. But I do not accept that my daughter to be given to a madman. Before I will allow her to be given to a man who has disgraced his name and hers, before I would eat at his table, I will kill her with my own hands."

Nowfal was moved by the chieftain's fervor. Tears came to his eyes. Then one of Nowfal's advisors spoke. "The old man is right. Majnun is not fit for stable. When we fought for him, did he not pray for peace? Did he not roam the battlefield, blessing our enemy and weeping with sorrow when our enemy died? He laughs and cries without reason. Such a man cannot be trusted."

Seeing that the defeated chieftain was adamant and that his men had turned against Majnun, Nowfal gave orders to break camp. As they rode from Layla's camp, Majnun angrily accused Nowfal, "Faithless friend, why did you do it? Why did you let my hopes ripen and then let them drop in despair? Was it for your own glory? Oh faithless friend, did you ever intend to let me have my treasure?"

Without waiting for an answer, Majnun cried out, "Layla! Layla!" and turned his horse and galloped off into the desert. Nowfal searched for Majnun, but he did not find him that day, or the next, or ever again.

Majnun rode many days without stopping. He passed abandoned campsites. He spoke to himself of his faithless friend. He had no companion but the desert wind.

One day he saw in the distance three small black figures. He rode closer and saw a hunter about to kill two gazelles he had captured. When Majnun looked at the gentle eyes of the gazelles he thought of Layla's soft black eyes and cries, "I beg you, do not harm the animals. Have they hurt you? Creatures such as these are not meant to be burned. I am your guest so you must heed my wishes."

The hunter had never heard anyone speak like htis. "But what am I to do?" he said. "I want to obey you but this is the first catch I have made in two months. I have a wife and children to support. If I spare the animals, my family will starve."

Without hesitating, Majnun jumped from his horse and placed the horse's reins in the hunter's hands. Happy wiht the exchange, the hunter rode away. Majnun kissed the eyes of the gazelles and freed them.

Then Majnun walked. The sand scorched his feet, thorns ripped his clothes, but he did not notice. At night he crawled into a cave for shelter.

The next day toward evening, he came upon another hunter who had caught a stag in his snare and was about to kill it.

"I beg you," Majnun cried, "release the poor creature. Let it live. If his mate had words, what would the hind say tonight without her companion? Imagine her suffering! Imagine yours--if you were caught in the trap and the stag were free."

"The animal is mine," the hunter said. "I do not need to kill it, but I need to survive. If you wish, I am willing to sell it to you."

Majnun opened his bag and laid at the hunter's feet what remained of the possessions that Nowfal had given him. The hunter was pleased. He accepted Majnun's offering and went away.

Majnun went up to the stag. He caressed him gently, saying, "Are you like me, far from your beloved?" He removed the cord binding the stag's feet. "Be off!" he said. "Flee! Search for her. Rest in her shadow. That is your place. And should you pass the tent of my beloved, tell Lyala that though I am far from her, she is always with me. Tell her that no animal moves or bird sings that does not bring her memory to me. Tell her, tell her, my friend."

Majnun watched the stag gallop off across the sand.. It was now night. The stars came out. Majnun covered his eyes and wept. When he awoke, he wanted to be near Layla. He began to hurry toward her camp, but after a time his strength gave out and he fell to the ground in a daze.

In the morning he opened his eyes and saw two strange figures approaching. An old woman was dragging an old man by a rope. The old man's arms and legs were bound with chains. The man was shouting as if he were out of his senses.

"Stop!" Majnun cried to the woman. "Who is this man? And why are you torturing him? What has he done?"

"He is innocent," the woman said. "He is a dervish and I am a widow. We both have no house or food or way to live. We travel this way so that people will think he is mad and take pity on him and give us food or charity. Whatever we are given we devide between us."

Majnun fell o his knees and said, "Release him. I am the one who is mad. Tie me up, put chains on my legs, and take me with you. You can keep for yourselves what I am given."

The woman agreed. She freed the dervish and put the chains around Majnun. When they came to a village or even a shepherd's hut, Majnun would sing his songs. Despite his chains, he would dance like a drunkard. He would beat his head on the stones. The woman would hit him, and they would be given scraps of food.

So they wandered until one day they came to an oasis and Majnun recognized the tents of Layla's people. He hit his head against a rock. Tears poured out of his eyes. "Layla! Layla!" he cried. "Oh Layla, look at me. Because I made you and your people suffer, I am doing penance. I have given up my freedom. I stand before you chained. You are my judge. I am your prisoner. I am guilty even when I am innocent. Stroke my hair, cut off my head, do as you wish with me. I am as trusting before you as Ishmael was before Abraham, and yet, I do not dare to see you."

Then, with a great howl, Majnun tore off his chains. He flung them away and ran from Layla's tents and from the told woman toward the mountains.

Soon after Majnun had fled to the mountains, Ibni Salam returned to claim his bride. He brought caravans laden with gifts of gold and silver for the chieftain. He was an eloquent and noble man as well as a mighty warrior. his honor and name preceded him. He brought protection and force. His words could melt a stone. Thousands of men obeyed him. Layla's father did not refuse him.

The wedding feast was set. Carpets were spread. For seven days and seven nights the wedding was celebrated. There was food, laughter, and gaiety. The guests admired the bride's wedding presents, and no one, not even the women, suspected the despair in Layla's heart.

After the wedding festivities, Ibni Salam left at down with his bride. When the caravan reached the lands of the tribe of Assad, Ibni Salam stretched his arms from horizon to horizon and said joyfully, "My beloved, everything you see is yours. My possessions are yours. My kingdom is yours."

But that evening Layla refused to go to his bed. The next night, she refused. And the next. For a time, Ibni Salam was gentle. But Layla still refused. Then, out of desperation, he tried to force her. Layla struck him and said, "If you touch me again, I will take my life. You may force me, but I have sworn by God that I will never submit to you."

Ibni Salam loved Layla so deeply that he agreed to her wishes. He even asked her forgiveness. "I would rather be permitted to look at your face than to lose you forever." So it was that Ibni Salam longed for Layla. Layla longed for Majnun. And a year passed.

During that year Majnun wandered in the wilderness. One evening he was laying under a blossoming thorn tree singing Layla's name when a stranger approached stealthily, like a snake. He stopped a short distance from Majnun and rasped in a voice of a demon, "Idolator! Fool! You sing to your beloved, but she is lying in the arms of another man--her husband. Do you think she refuses him? No! She thinks only of kissing and lovemaking and pleasures. She is like all the other women--fickle and faithless. Never trust a woman. She is peace on the outside and turmoil within. The man who believes in a woman's fidelity is even more stupid than the woman who causes him to suffer."

The man heard a thud and a moan. Majnun's head stuck a stone so hard that blood spurted onto the earth. The rider's heart was suddenly caught and spun around.

"Listen to me," the unknown man cried. "I was lying, wickedly lying. Layla has not deceived or betrayed you. She was forced to marry, but she has never gone to her husband's bed. She has remained faithful to you."

Then the stranger heard Majnun begin to weep. Majnun wept, not knowning which of the words the stranger had spoken were true. The stranger rode away.

At the camp of the Banu Amir, Majnun's father was growing weak with age. He was not afraid of death but he did not want to die without seeing his son. He set out with two men from his tribe and asked every stranger for news of his son. At last he came upon a Bedouin who said, "Majnun? the mad singer? He is in a cave in the desert, but you will not find the cave. It is too far and too desolate."

The old sayyid insisted. He crossed vast plains, lonely mountains, oceans of sand. Often he thought he would never find his son. But then he asked himself why he had lived, if not for his son? Of what point was all his wealth, if there was no one to give it to?

At last he came to the cave and saw a man hardly more than a skeleton who moved on four legs like an animal. Could this ghostly, serpentine creature be his son? Overcome by love and sorrow, the sayyid went to the ghostly figure and tenderly caressed his head. Majnun looked up. He saw a man weeping but did not know who he was. "Who are you?" Majnun asked. "What do you want?"

The old man said, "I am your father."
when Majnun heard his father's voice, he cried out. Then he put his head in his father's lap and wept uncontrollably. Father and son wept and kissed each other and held each other.

After a time the sayyid spoke and said, "It is enough, Majnun. You must overcome your grief or it will devour you. Think of something else. Tempt yourself. Why not? Enjoy the moment. Do not trust in tomorrow. Act as if your life is in death's hands. A woman wears only what she has woven. A man reaps only what he has sown. Even if life has not kept its promises, life is still before you. Majnun, my son, I beg you, come home with me. I am close to death, and I want to spend my last days with you."

Majnun listened to his father. He put on his silk robe and the turban his father had brought. For some days he ate and drank with his father and did not sing to his beloved. But when the time came for them to return, Majnun said, "Father, I want to obey you. But I cannot. I am no longer the same man. I am a stranger to my tribe. If you asked me how this happened, I do not know. I know you are my father, and I know that I am your child. But I do not remember your name."

The sayyid listened to Majnun and realized that Majnun no longer belonged to him. Then he took Majnun in his arms and said, "Majnun, you are my yoke and my crown. Hold me fast, my son, for this hour must nourish me for all time. Hold me so I may have wonderful dreams in the cradle that is being prepared for me. Soul of your father, we shall not see each other again in this lifetime."

Two days after the sayyid returned to his camp, he died. He chose the moment of his death and so his fate. His soul fluttered to rest before the throne of God.

One evening a kinsman from the tribe of the Banu Amir who was hunting in the desert came upon Manjun and told him that his father had died. Majnun went to his father's grave and prayed and wept and begged for forgiveness.

"Oh father," he said, weeping, "You were so gentle and I was so hard. A thousand times you offered your hand and I refused you. You prepared banquets and beds for me and I refused. You could not rescue me, but you shared my suffering. You were my companion, my protector, my pillar. Now that you are gone, I have no home, for my home was in the corner of your heart. Oh father, I have shamed you, forgive me."

As he made his way back into the desert, he came upon a group of Arabs who stared at him. A paper fluttered from their camp and landed near Majnun's feet. He picked it up. It said two words: Layla--Majnun. It was written in admiration of their devotion.

Majnun tore it in half. And then he tore up one of the names. The people watched in surprise. One person dared to ask him why he had destroyed one of the names.
"With lovers," Majnun answered, "only one name is needed."
"But which name did you destroy?"
"Layla's."
"Layla's?"
"Do you not understand? The name is only the veil. Layla is the face under the viel."

When Majnun returned to his cave, the animals of the desert came to live with him. First the lion, then the stag he had saved, the antelope, the wolf, the fox, the wild ass, the hare, the timid gazelles. In time, even the vulture came to live with them. No animal ever harmed another. In Majnun's presence the animals had no fear of each other. Majnun was king and his cave was his court. All around were rocks and thorns and burning sand. No place on earth was more desolate, yet Majnun called it paradise because he lived in peace with his friends.

Every day Majnun and his animals wandered in the desert and dug among the stones for roots and herbs. As the sun set, they feasted together. Majnun spoke of Layla and sang his songs. The animals listened quietly and bowed their heads. When darkness fell, the fox with his bushy tail swept clean Majnun's resting place, and Majnun lay down to sleep. Throughout the night until dawn, the lion and the wolf kept watch.

Once as Majnun gazed fondly at his animals, he thought, I who live among my friends am surely the happiest man of all, and he told them the story of the king of Merv and the courtier...

"Once there was a young courier at the palace of the king of Merv. The king kept a pack of ferocious dogs and whenever he lost his temper, because someone had displeased him, he had that person thrown to the dogs.

"The young courtier who heard the victims' cries and the dogs' barking decided he would become friends with the dogs. First he spoke with the keeper of the dogs. Then he brought the dogs food. In time when he appeared the dogs would wag their tails and he was able to pat them wihtout danger.

"One day, for no apparent reason, the king lost his temper and ordered the courtier to be killed. The guards tied his hands and feet and threw him into the kennels. But when he was given to the dogs, they were glad to see their friend and licked his face and hands and wagged their tails.

"That evening, the king missed the courtier and regretted his order. He asked about the boy and was told that the boy was most likely an angel, for the dogs would not harm him. The king went to see this miracle boy. The ferocious dogs were nestled happily about him. The boy was released.

"Several days later, the king sent for the boy. He took the boy aside and said, 'Tell me the truth. I do not believe in miracles. How did you stay alive?"

"The boy was too clever to lie. 'Your Majesty,' he said, 'for six years I served you faithfully. But in one moment you forgot my existence. The dogs whom I befriended for six months were grateful to me because of the few chunks of meat that I fed them.'

"The boy spoke with daring. The king freed the dogs and tamed the wild beast of his own soul."

One night Majnun awoke. The night was as light as day. The sky was a resplendent garden of flowers. The planets, holding human fate, danced between the stars. Majnun looked from planet to planet, wondering which one might help him. When his glace fell on Venus, he called to her, "Mistress of dancers and singers, you light up the sky for all who seek happiness. Your hand holds success, your wine sparkles in every goblet, your gift brings life to the tongue. Be gracious to me, too. My soul is sick. Who but you can heal it? I beg you, let me breathe my beloved's scent before I die."

Then he called to the great planet, Jupiter, "Star of delight, the structure of the world is yours. You give my fate grandeur. My heart draws its strength form you. You are the one who cares for the souls, who determines our fates. Help me! Help me--if there is help for me."

The planets continued on their way. They were governed by another ruler. Majnun cried in despair. The planets were silent. The stars were silent. Then he cried a third time. He cried to the ruler of the stars and planets and said, "You who created the earth, whos name is the wellspring of all names. The seven heavens lie at your feet. Venus and Jupiter are your servants. All things great and small obey you. I was earth, heavy and solid. You have changed me to water. Do not let me perish now. do not let me lose my way."

After Majnun had prayed, a deep calm came to him. His eyes closed. He slept and he dreamt of a tree rising from the earth. From one of the branches, a bird flew toward him; from its beak, a drop of light, like a jewel, fell on his head.

When Majnun awoke in the morning, he was flooded with a feeling of happiness that he had not felt in many years. That day an old man with a flowing white beard approached Majnun's cave. The animals growled, warning Majnun. But Majnun quieted them.

"Grandfather," Majnun said, "I do not know you, but I like your face. Still, I do not wish to be bitten again by a stranger. If you come with painful words, retrace your steps."

The stranger fell before Majnun and said, "Noble creature, you have made the wild animals your companions. I am not your enemy but a friend who carries a message from your beloved. A sescret message. But if you prefer, I will leave."

Majnun's heart began to dance and he cried, "No! Speak! Speak quickly!"
"A few days ago I passed a tented camp. Nearby was a grove of palm trees and a garden. Through the palm trees I saw a light, as if the moon had just risen behind one of the trees. When I looked closer, I saw it was not a planet or a star but a young woman whose beauty surrounded her like light. She was a shining goblet reflecting the secrets of the world. But her head was bent in sorrow and she was weeping. I approached and asked her, 'Who are you? And why are you weeping?'

"She answered, 'Do you want to wound me even more? Stranger, once I was Layla; now I do not know who I am. Majnun is thought to be mad, but I am madder than he is. He is at least free to wander where he wishes. But I, I have no one to talk to, no one to trust. I swallow dry grass so as not to speak the poison in my heart. Night and day I burn. Love cries to me, "Flee!" Reason admonishes me, "You are not a falcon; you are a partridge." Love cries, "Flee!" Reason shouts, "You are not a man; you are a woman. Beware of disgrace!" But tell me, stranger, do you know of Majnun? Speak to me of him. How does he spend his days? Where does he stay? Who are his companions?'

"I told her what I knew of you, for who does not know of you? 'Majnun is without family or friends.' I said. 'His only companions are the wild animals of the desert. Suffering has broken him. His father has died. He writes of grief and love.' Then I told her some of your lines which I know by heart.

"She sighed and trembled and wept. She sat so forlorn lamenting your father's death and your memory that I thought she would die. Then suddenly she made a decision and asked me to bring you a letter."

The old man took a letter from his bag. He kissed it and gave it to Majnun. Majnun stood there as if he were dreaming. He stared at the letter. Then, as if a demon possessed him, he tore off his clothes and began to dance--faster and faster, wilder and wilder. He leapt into the air and whirled around and around until he fell to the ground motionless. Yet his fingers still gripped the letter. When he returned to his senses, his first glance was at the letter. He broke the seal and read:
"I begin my letter to you in the name of the king who gives life to the soul. Wiser than all men, the king understands the language of those who cannot speak.

"As a prisoner, I write to you. I know you have broken your chains. I do not know where you live, but every dawn and dusk I see your blood on the mountains. The others slander you, but I know you have remained loyal to me, and I, to you. True, I have a husband. He has fame and dignity but who he is means little to me.
"I heard of your father's death and beat my face as if my own father had died. Do you understand how I wish to share your grief?
"The rock splits and crumbles but the jewel that is enclosed is untouched. My diamond is intact.
"I am yours."

Like a starving man, Majnun devoured every word of her letter. For long time he could only say, "Oh God." Then at last, he asked the old man for a pen and paper and sat down and wrote to Layla, scarcely pausing, for the words he needed had been ripening all this time in his heart.

Majnun wrote:
"In the name of the one who has made the heavens and causes the sap to rise in the springtime, who knows the rock and the precious stone hidden within the rock, who knows the hidden chambers of the human heart, listen to my prayer--
"My garden of paradise, you say I am the keeper of the treasure-house. But I do not have the key which opens the gate. I am a tree in your forest. But you have changed my day to night, stolen my heart, seduced me with words and made a bond with another man.

"My ruby, when will this tie with your husband be broken? Even if your husband is a noble man, why should a stranger be permitted to enjoy your beauty? He is a thief who has been given that which he has not paid for. When will the door to the treasure-house open? When will you let me in?

"It is not that I suspect you or that I hate your husband but rather that I long for you. I long for your breasts as sweet as jasmine. But even if your faith is hidden from me, you lead me on the path, revealing the true nature of love. It does not matter if there is no salve for my wound. You teach me to forget myself. You caress me and engrave my name in a sheet of ice which melts daily in the sun."

Soon after the messenger left with Majnun's letter, another visitor approached Majnun's cave. He was Salim Amiri, the brother of Majnun's mother. He was wise and noble and reputed to be able to find a way out of every impasse. He loved Majnun dearly and often sent gifts to him through caravans, wishing to ease his nephew's misery. He hoped that this might be the moment to bring Majnun home.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Majnun called when he saw the visitor approaching.
"I am Salim from the tribe of the Banu Amir--Salim, your uncle."

Majnun recognized him and ordered his animals to allow the visitor to enter. He asked after all his family and Salim saw that Majnun had not lost his senses. He begged Majnun to put on a robe, for it pained him to see Majnun naked.

At his uncle's insistence, he agreed, but the food that his uncle offered to him he gave to his animals. "I no longer deserve food," he told Salim. "Grass and a few roots are all I wish, but I thank you for your gifts to my animals."

"Perhaps you are right," Salim said. "Birds are caught in traps because they are greedy, and the greedier the human the more he is in danger. There is a story about such things--the story of the king and the dervish...

"Once a great king rode past the hut of a hermit. It was a miserable, crumbling hut and he asked his advisor, 'Who can live in such a place?'
"The advisor said,'A holy man lives there who needs neither food nor water,'
"The king was curious and said, 'Let us go back. I want to speak to this man.'
"When the hermit was brought to the king, the advisor asked him, 'Where do you find the strength to endure such misery? How do you live? What do you eat?'
"'Here is my dinner,' the hermit said happily, and he showed them some plants he had found on the plains.
"'What misery!' the courtier said. 'If you entered the service of the king, you would certainly have better food than grass.'
"'Grass?' the hermit cried. 'Sir, this isn't grass. This is honey blossoms. If you knew how good it tastes, you would leave the king's service this instead.'
"The king understood. He embraced the hermit and said, 'Only someone who is content with very little is free.' That is my story, Majnun," His uncle concluded. "Some may take you for a madman, but to me you are as wise as the wisest of kings."

Majnun thanked his uncle for the story, and for a time he was almost cheerful. But then, suddenly, he thought of his mother. For so long he had not thought of her. But now he asked how she was and said that he longed to see her beauty again.
"I will bring her to you," Salim said.

In a week, Salim returned with Majnun's mother. For a moment, when she saw her son from afar, her heart shrank. But then she rushed past lion, panther, and wolf to her son and kissed him and caressed him. And only after she had combed his tangled hair and washed and tended his wounds did she speak. "Oh, my son, you are still drunk with the wine of your youth. Why do you sleep in caves among ants and snakes? The snakes will bite you. The ants will eat you. Come to your senses. Life is brief. It passes as quickly as two days. Your father is dead, and I do not know how many days are given to me."

"My mother, my beautiful mother, forgive me," Majnun said. "Let your life be long. I know you are unhappy because I suffer. I did not choose it. We are each given a portion. But even if I were to return home, I would die, for that home is a prison to me. You want to free the bird of the soul from the cage. But the cage is my home. The cage is my love. Mother, forgive me, forgive me for giving you pain. I cannot help it."

Majnun kissed his mother's feet and begged her forgiveness. His mother wept and set out for home with her brother. But now her home became foreign to her, for her home was with Majnun. A short time later, she died.

Majnun's uncle visited Majnun to tell him of his mother's death. Majnun battered his face and beat the ground like glass hitting a stone. He hurried to where his mother was buried. He wailed and lamented. When his relatives saw Majnun's despair, they asked him to stay, but Majnun ran from them to his cave and his animals. His grief needed the expanse of the sky.

During this time, Layla waited for a response from Majnun. Night after night she slipped from her tent and walked to the crossroads, watching for the old man. One evening as she approached the crossroads, she saw a shadow in front of her and knew it was the old man. "Tell me," she whispered, "what news do you bring of my wild love? What does he say? What does he dream about?"

"He says your name," the old man answered. "He whispers your name. He speaks your name. He shouts your name. 'Layla! Layla!'" And the old man gave her Majnun's letter.

Layla read the letter and said, "I beg you, I must see him." Then she loosened some pearls from her earrings and gave them to the old man, saying, "Bring Majnun to me. Let me see his face. I want one glance of light. And perhaps he will recite a few lines that will unravel the twisted skein of my soul."

The old man soon returned with Majnun. Majnun's animals waited in the grove, and Majnun, after putting on the robe the old man offered him, went trembling to Layla's garden.

Almost at once Layla came out of her tent wrapped in a veil. She saw Majnun leaning against a tree. He was ten steps away, but she could not go up to him. She stood rooted to the earth. Layla turned to the old man and whispered, "I cannot go any farther. If i do, I will be consumed. Ask Majnun to speak. He will be the cupbearer. I will drink the wine."

The old man went to the quiet figure by the tree and realized that Majnun had just fainted. He gently lifted Majnun up and held him until he awoke. When Majnun opened his eyes and saw Layla gazing at him, he offered her the verses she had asked for.

Layla listened but she did not answer. Then Majnun sang the most beautiful song of his life:

After a time, Majnun was silent. Layla, too, was silent. Then Majnun fled from Layla's garden.

When Majnun returned to his cave, a young man by the name of Salam from Baghdad was waiting for him. He had been wounded in love and had journeyed to the wilderness to hear Majnun's verses.

"Where do you come from?" Majnun asked the boy.
"From journey's end," the boy answered. And when he looked at Majnun, who stood naked, surrounded by his animals, he said, "I want to be your slave. I want to serve you and listen to you and guard you and never leave your side. I have been crushed by the millstone of love. I want to hear your songs."

"Go home," Majnun said. "Your palce is not with me. You have not tasted my sufferings. I cannot provide for you. I have nothing but my creatures. Even the demons flee from me. What do you want? You are your own friend. I am not human. I am savage. I destroy myself."

"For God's sake," the boy persisted,"do not refuse my thirst. Let me drink from your well. I am a pilgrim. And you are Mecca."

Majnun let him stay. The boy then took from his bag all kinds of delicacies and spread them on a rug before Majnun, saying, "Be my guest. Eat for your strength. Do not feed on despair alone. Even the sky is not the same but changes, revealing new pages in the Book of Life. Do not be so faithful to your sorrow. I also was broken by love. But God helped me. Laugh! Play! In the end, your grief will be lessened and you will forget."

Majnun held his anger and said, "I am no lovesick fool. I do not crave satisfaction. My body no longer has desire. Love is my fire and essence. The bundle which is my self is gone. Love has entered my house. You do not see me. You see 'the beloved.' How then can love be torn from my heart?"

The youth repented his careless words. he stayed with Majnun, collecting his verses and accepting the desert life. But after a time, he could not endure so many weeks without sleep or food.

He returned to Baghdad, and as he traveled through the villages, he sang Majnun's songs, and the people who listened copied down his poems. And when they knew love themselves, it was with Majnun's words that they sang, for Majnun spoke for lovers everywhere.

In the Book of Life, every page has two sides. On one side are our hopes and aspirations. On the other side, what is destined for us. Rarely are the two sides the same. Our satisfaction can well be our peril, and our difficulties our salvation. The meaning is there, but it is hard to grasp. Vinegar can prove to be honey, and honey, vinegar.

Layla's husband possessed the jewel he desired. And yet, his possession was an illusion. Zealously, he guarded the treasure to which no path could lead him. Layla rarely asked to see him. She was his wife, but she remained a bride.

It was Layla's husband, Ibni Salam, who let go first. Was it fate which released him? Or was it the burden of loving without being loved?

One day, he was suddenly taken ill with a violent fever. The doctor was summoned and gave him healing potions, and he recovered. But as soon as the doctor left, he ate the foods the doctor had forbidden him, and he fell ill again. This time the doctor was helpless. Although Ibni Salam was young, in a few days his soul fled from his body and he died.

Ibni Salam was dead. Layla pitied her husband, but mostly she felt relief. At last, she was free to weep without restraint. She went into seclusion and wept as a widow might, and no one knew she wept for Majnun.

She performed this ritual until autumn when the trees blazed with colour and the wind rose. During her many months of solitude she became weak. Then a fever took her, and knowing she would die, she called her mother to her tent and revealed her secret for the first time.

"Oh Mother, I am fading away. And what has my life been? I have suffered so much in secret. I must speak to you now. The grief in my heart is breaking the seal on my lips. Listen to me, Mother. I am like an autumn leaf on a branch of the Tree of Life. When I die, dress me in my bridal robes, so I may receive my beloved as a bride. I know my restless wanderer will come to my grave. Oh Mother, I have loved him, and my wish is that you too will love him.

"When you see my beloved, comfort him as you would comfort me. Speak to him and tell him that when I left the world, I did so thinking of him. Tell him that his grief has always been mine and I have taken it with me to sustain me on my journey. He cannot see my eyes. But tell him that I will be following him and waiting and asking, 'Beloved, when do you come?"

Tears streamed down Layla's face. She spoke her beloved's name, and she passed the frontier to the other land. Her mother clasped her to her and tried to breathe life into her. She tore her own white hair and wept and shouted. But to no avail. Even if heaven laments, each must cross the threshold alone.

As Layla foretold, when Majnun heard of her death, he came like a thundercloud driven by a storm. He fell on her grave as if he had been struck by lightning. Writhing and twisting in torment, he cried, "Layla! Layla! What do you see? What do your gazelle's eyes see? Where is your amber-scented hair? Where have you melted? In which bowl? Are you in a cave? Where there are caves, there are serpents, live serpents. I am your serpent. I have no other home."

Then Majnun jumped up and fled to the wilderness, weeping and singing, followed by his animals. But as soon as he came to his cave, he ran back to Layla's grave and covered the earth with kisses.

For a month, Majnun stayed at layla's grave, guarded by his animals. No one dared to approach him. Day by day he grew weaker. At last the day came when he had no more strength. That evening, he lifted his hands to the sky and prayed, "Creator of all things, I beg you, in the name of all you have created, release me from my torment. Let me go to my love. she is waiting."

Then Majnun lay his head on the earth, held layla's gravestone, and spoke his last words: "you...my love..."

For many months, no one knew of Majnun's death, for his animals guarded his body with fierce growls. But when his body had crumbled to dust, they went back to the wilderness.

Then Majnun's tribesmen came and gathered his bones and buried them by Layla's side. All that day and many days after, there was mourning in the camp of the Banu Amir and in the camp of Layla's people.

Since their deaths, their story has been told and retold, for never have there been two lovers as true as they.