Legends from the Desert: Gods of Stone!

Night came, and stillness reigned; the full moon rose swaying across the blue vault; the creatures took to their dwellings and the birds to their nests; and the shepherds went back to their encampments to console themselves with the calm of slumber for the toils of the day — all but one shepherd, with the strength of giants, the beauty of the gods, and the vigor of youth, who stayed behind, leaving his sheep to graze as they pleased; the arrow of passion had struck him home, and he poured out the melting of his soul in the breathings of his enchanted old flute.

He communed with the beloved and she listened to him; he sang a melody and she answered it; he called her and she came to him, brimming over with freshness and beauty, proud in enchantment and coquetry; and she flung herself down on a carpet of "velvet" grass that smiled at the dew in the moonlight of spring. The handsome shepherd read the book of life in her eyes and sipped love from the red of her lips, and grew drunk on the fragrance of beauty and the wine of desire. Rapture lifted him, and he breathed into his flute a joyous air that summoned the daughter of the dawn to the dance; and she danced, while the leaves of the trees clapped for her, the nightingales sang to her, and the virgin stars beat the tambourine for her.

She took her fill of the beloved's kiss and leaned upon his strong forearm, and he carried her off, drunk with the sweetness of the night and the scent of the great Arabian oasis. They walked entwined, the light robing her, the desert breeze playing with her sleeves, while there beckoned to them a lamp glimmering in a little temple ringed with palm trees shedding fresh, ripe dates.

And here they are on the threshold of the temple, longing urging them on, awe holding her back, love moving them to cross the sacred threshold. They saw the door standing open; so they took courage and walked in entwined, the sash of purity enfolding them, love and hope bearing them aloft.

He knelt, and she knelt close beside him, her eyes fixed upon the lamp burning on the altar. They felt the light steal through their souls, and the sacred fire, kindled from the ember of the gods, blaze up in their two hearts beating with the passions of bursting youth. He gazed at her and she gazed at him; she touched the lyre, and the youth gave back a melody at which the houris swayed and the brides of the jinn danced.

Love smiled upon us and came swaying between us —
Think you he will accept us as servants in his temple?
What, think you, does he ask of his worshippers?
Passion — its fragrance is of the breath of eternity,
Its flowers perfumed with the scent of God.
Burn, then, the kernels of our two hearts for incense,
And pour out the soul for him, a pure wine;
Breathe in his breaths and light his lamp,
Pass round his cup and bow down in his temple.
Echo back, joyful, the strain of his chanting,
And be glad — Love is well pleased with us
And has sung to us the glad tidings of his hopes.
Come, then — whatever he has granted us is from him;
We live by love, and our faithfulness is his tribute.
Touch, then, his lyre and gather his blossoms,
Then kindle his fire and bow down in his temple.

She set the lyre aside and rose to the lamp-niche and poured into it oil from a phial she had kept within the folds of her white gown embroidered with threads of gold; she kissed the curtains of the altar and came back to her beloved, humble and reverent, to gather from his lips the nectar of happiness and hope. She took his fair head between her two small hands, closed her lips upon his, and pressed upon his dewy mouth a burning kiss into which she poured her brimming love and her ripening hope; and the two soared into the realms of eternity, fluttering on wings of purity and radiance toward the highest assembly.

The old priest awoke to the strains of the lyre and the whisperings of passion, and his fury rose; the memories of the past and the pleasures of youth clamored in his breast. He raised his trembling hand to rub his sunken eyes, and made out the two figures embracing on the steps of the sacred altar; the sleeves of his coarse robe brushed his wrinkled face, on which time had written its most grievous lines, and the bitter truth leapt up before his eyes: the sackcloth of asceticism had veiled from him the good things of life and denied him the delights of the heart and the hopes of youth; a wrap of camel's hair had chafed his skin; austerity and fasting had wasted him; and all he hoped for was a promised bliss, of which he knew not whether it was illusion or truth. And now he is stabbed in the holiest of his holy things. The two reckless lovers have violated the sanctity of his temple, defiled his solitude, assaulted his asceticism, and stirred in him passions and impulses he had thought extinguished by austerity, fasting, and the mortification of the flesh. He had forbidden himself the harvest of present bliss, coveting immortality in the paradise promised to those who fear God and love Him. And here they are, spoiling his peace of soul and threatening his longed-for hope. "Woe to them both!" Is he to be denied the bliss of both abodes and the harvest of both paradises?

Anger and deprivation blinded him; zeal for virtue and the ember of faith flared up in his breast. He raised his two trembling hands to heaven and cried out to his Lord: "Lord, pour down upon them fire and brimstone from Your heights! Lord, turn them into two deaf stones, that stare and do not see, that have ears and do not hear! Silence in them the whisperings of passion, and quench in their hearts the embers of desire! Make them a lesson to whoever will take warning, and Your omnipotence a sign in stone!"

The two lovers were struck dumb; a shudder of fear and dread ran through them, and a wind blew upon them as though of frost, and they were nailed fast, as though they were two idols. Each looked upon the other a look of tenderness and affection into which they poured the essence of their souls; then they left behind the ruins of the body and soared, two loving, pure spirits, toward the highest assembly, to be united with the Supreme Being, fluttering and singing.

And the old priest took to his bed and gave himself up to a deep sleep, content and at peace. He had conquered matter, championed virtue, and avenged it... He awoke to the anthems of those giving praise and the murmurings of the worshippers. So he put on his sackcloth and walked with dignity to perform his religious duties and lead the worshippers in the prayer of daybreak. He advanced to the altar and looked with delight upon his flock — the temple, for all its spaciousness, was thronged with them, contrary to all he was used to. But oh, the horror of what he saw! He saw the sacred lamp glittering, its light thrown back from two idols, the most marvelous he had ever beheld; the people had gathered around them, prostrate, reciting to them with reverence their burning prayers, rubbing their faces in the dust in abasement and sanctification... And behold — the people were worshipping al-Lat and al-Uzza, heedless of their god, bewitched by the beauty of the two idols, hallowing in them power and worshipping beauty.

The priest stood thunderstruck; he wandered off bewildered, and left the people blindly straying in their error.