The shaikh San’ân was a saintly man of his time, more perfect than words can express. This shaikh remained in retreat for fifty years with four hundred perfect disciples. Each of his disciples, a wondrous thing, ceased not to do penance day and night. He had works and knowledge in equal measure, and he had friends as well; he possessed outward advantages and inward revelation, together with an understanding of mysteries. He had performed the pilgrimage to Mecca four or five times; he had devoted a considerable length of time to this practice. He offered prayers and fasts beyond number; he omitted none of the practices of the sunna. His elders were beside themselves when they saw themselves thus surpassed. This spiritual man would have split a hair; he was mighty in miracles and the degrees of spiritualism. Whoever was ill or dejected regained health through his breath. In short, in joy and sorrow, he was an example to men and like a banner in the world. Although he saw himself as the model of his companions, for several nights he saw the same thing in a dream: namely, that he was going from Mecca to dwell in Greece, and that there he worshipped an idol. After having had this ill-omened dream, he shared the grief it caused him; for, alas! the Joseph of grace was about to fall into the well; a difficult circumstance lay before him on the road. “I know not,” said he, “whether I shall be able to rescue my soul from this sorrow; I must renounce life if I would profess the faith. On the whole face of the earth there is no man who has to endure such a vicissitude on his journey: if he overcomes it, the road will be bright for him until he reaches his goal; but if he cannot succeed, the road will at last be too long for him.” In short, this incomparable master said to his disciples: “My decision is made; I must go at once towards Greece, so that I may quickly learn the meaning of this dream.” His four hundred faithful disciples accompanied him on the journey. They went from the Kaaba to the borders of Greece, and traversed the country from end to end. By chance they saw a high balcony, upon which a young girl was seated.
She was a Christian girl, of angelic countenance, who possessed contemplative faculties in the path of God. She was a sun that never set, in the sphere of beauty and in the zodiac of dignity. The orb of day, jealous of the splendour of her face, appeared in the street where she dwelt more yellow than the faces of lovers. Whoever bound his heart to the hair of this young girl girded himself with the Christians’ belt, thinking of that hair; whoever set his soul upon the ruby of the lips of this ravishing beauty lost his faith before ever setting foot on the path of love; the dawn turned black because of her black hair; Greece was covered with wrinkles because of this beauty with freckles. Her eyes were the snare of lovers; her two brows were perfect bows. When she looked upon her admirers, she felled them with the hand of her glance. Her brow formed a canopy over the moon of her eye, where the pupil rests. When the pupil of her eye acted with force, it seized the souls of hundreds of men as its prey. Her face, beneath her smooth hair, shone like a burning coal; the moist ruby of her lips left a whole world parched with thirst; the narcissus of her languishing eyes had a hundred daggers for lashes; he who thirsted for the pure water drunk from her mouth, as from a living spring, felt the sting of her lashes in his heart, like so many daggers. Since words could not pass through her mouth, so small was it, no one understood what she said. Indeed, the shape of her mouth was that of a needle’s eye; and her waist, as slender as a hair, was moreover tightened by her zunnâr. In the middle of her chin she had a silver-coloured dimple, life-giving as the words of Jesus. Thousands of hearts, drowned in blood like Joseph, plunged headlong into this well.
Pearls as bright as the sun adorned her hair; her face was covered by a veil of black cloth. When this young Christian girl lifted her veil, the heart of the already enslaved sheikh was set aflame. By merely showing her face from beneath that veil, she bound a hundred zunnârs around the sheikh’s waist with a single one of her hairs. Though the sheikh had not fixed his gaze upon the young Christian girl, yet he felt for her a love that had such an effect that his free will slipped entirely from his hands, and he himself fell, his feet unable to support him; he fell, I say, on that very spot, consumed by the fire of love. All that he possessed ceased entirely to exist; his heart vanished into smoke through the effect of the fire of his love. The love of this young girl plundered his soul; infidelity spread from the Christian girl’s hair over his faith.
The schaïkh thus surrendered his faith and bought infidelity: he sold his sound condition and acquired disgrace. This love acted so violently upon his soul and heart that he despaired of his heart and grew weary of his soul. “When religion leaves you,” he cried, “what use is the heart? Oh! how grievous to me is the love I feel for this girl!”
When his disciples saw him so afflicted, they understood what had happened. They were astonished at him, and, struck with amazement, all stood with their heads bowed. Several offered him counsel that was of no avail, for, had he accepted it, he would have found no relief. He obeyed none who offered him advice, because his affliction admitted of no cure. How could a passionate lover take orders? How could a remedy please a pain that destroys every remedy? Until nightfall, throughout that long day, his eyes remained fixed on the balcony and his mouth open. The stars, which that night burned like lamps, drew their warmth from the heart of this holy man. His love increased a hundredfold that night,
When his disciples saw him so afflicted, they understood what had happened. They were astonished at him, and, struck with amazement, all stood with their heads bowed. Several offered him counsel that was of no avail, for, had he accepted it, he would have found no relief. He obeyed none who offered him advice, because his affliction admitted of no cure. How could a passionate lover take orders? How could a remedy please a pain that destroys every remedy? Until nightfall, throughout that long day, his eyes remained fixed on the balcony and his mouth open. The stars, which that night burned like lamps, drew their warmth from the heart of this holy man. His love increased a hundredfold that night,