August 25, 2019 3

tawk alhamama almakfoud sub english,portuguese.

tawk alhamama almakfoud  sub english,portuguese.


For the Andalusias time and again rebuilt,
whose heaps of rubble and
inexhaustible hopes we carry within us. The Lost Collar of the Dove Good morning, Master. Here is yesterday’s exercise, Master. Good, good. The measurements are correct. But, Hassan, the value of writing is beyond measure. It is writing, Hassan, which gives rhythm to the absolute and is the link between the visible and the invisible world. The DHAHER and the BATN. The letter is our prayer, Hassan. It is at this price that calligraphy becomes witness to divine beauty. Hassan… Prepare a bit of ink for me. Words for love: Thanaf jawa… Hear! Hear! Hear what the prophet said. He said, I have three favorite things on this earth: Perfume, women, and prayer. He indeed mentioned perfume first. In perfume is woman’s secret. In woman is the secret of love. Love, the great prayer of the universe. Hear, hear, hear… But what is love exactly? Love? Buy this… It is the gift of lovers. How does one know if one is in love? In buying my perfume. Wait, wait… How much? How much? Hear! Hear! Hear what the prophet said… How’s the songbird? He’s already given his recital. He doesn’t want to sing any more. No one except you has ever heard him. A while ago he took my breath away. All right! Don’t exaggerate! Has my master’s book arrived? Not yet. Our ships are blocked on the opposite shore. What book? The Previsions of a Traveler by lbn Djazar. I think I have it. Come with me. My storeroom is disorganized and I don’t know if I can find it. Let’s look here first. You have a lot of books! Wait here! Are there mice? I must get a cat. Zin! Zin! The first order should have sufficed. The prince crossed out a lot before he asked my master to finish the Koran for him. He had sworn to write it himself, but the quill fell from his hand. A bad omen. With your master’s calligraphy, the Koran will be a marvel. Will the prince’s vow be fulfilled anyway? Yes. It is the master’s hand gliding over the page, but it is the prince’s spirit guiding his hand. Go see the Haj. Listen! Here it is! I found it! It’s not the same title. But the same author, that’s the same. Not for my master. It is not the same paper. The color half a shade… Have you found other words for love? No. Why know them all? I want to understand what love is. Several lives would not suffice to probe its mysteries. One word is enough, it contains all the others. As it is with God. He is called the Omniscient, the Magnanimous, the Unfathomable. I can give you three words for love. What are they? Ichk, Wajd, Huyem. How many do you have now? Twenty-nine plus three, thirty-two. Huyem! That’s love which leads astray and to death. What are you hiding? A talisman? Yes. Go away! The Maalem is waiting. Can I go with you to school? – Don’t loiter. I’ll be there first. A djinn. He won’t live long that way. You keep disappearing. I told you to go fetch a copy from Fatima Zohra! Hurry up! Get going! Zin! Zin! Can’t you see I’m running? A message for her. It’s the sky-blue. I know. Don’t slow me up. Zin! What are you doing? I’m watching. Watching what? – The columns. Sometimes they change color. They become a red and white forest, but you have to take them by surprise. That’s all in your head. – It’s not my fault if I see things others don’t. Come, the lesson has begun. …to appreciate sweet tenderness, passionate love, it’s the moment when the heart yields to reason which forces a declaration. Ardent love. Do you understand all that? Everyone understands according to the size of his ears. Mine are big! Insane love. It’s the moment when one prefers to withdraw into oneself. Passion corresponds to the moment when one gives to the beloved a soul which blends with hers. In lovesickness the whole body is aroused, and feelings transcend the boundaries of reason. Frenzy is a breaking of all bonds after a constant struggle. The lunacy of love means no longer being aware of what self-control requires. Languor is the moment when life seems insignificant in the absence of the loved one. Do you have any questions? During the last lesson you used two words for being in love: Achik and Khalil. In Arabic there are sixty words to express nuances of being in love. Here is your letter. Come! I’m working, but I’ll catch up with you! Your letter? Wait a minute, I haven’t finished. I don’t have any more time! I have what you need. Only… it costs much more! Her eyes are so immense that forty boats could be rowed in them for forty years without ever reaching the shore. What will you do with all this money? None of your business! Are you Zin? Why? Do you know the calligrapher’s house? Why? This is a gift. – Show me. It’s for Leila, the calligrapher’s daughter. Pick a color. Any more cheerful colors? Saffron? They’re already taken. Not for you, but for me. Each couple has its color, otherwise how could I recognize them? Pick a color, or I’ll choose one for you. This one. A message? No, but you owe me money. I know. Pay me with figs. Come on, come on! Give me more, I have a brother, and one for Zin… Is the prince here? – Yes. Prince, Prince, I have something for you. Prince Haroun, look! Watch it well, it’s money for the turban. I’ll be back right away. Are you ill? – No. Then you’re in love? With whom? If you tell me I’ll deliver your messages for free. With whom? – With no one. What do you want? I want calligraphy saying “Prince Haroun”. Who is Prince Haroun? That’s my secret. You want to know other people’s secrets, but you keep your own. What style of writing? Calligraphy for a prince. I love this melody. Who’s playing? – Leila… the master’s daughter. It’s for her that I have a message. What do you all have against me? The Maalem calls me a bastard. You hit me. I’ll tell my father. – You don’t have one. Yes I do. – Where is he? Wait. Mama! It’s hot here. You frightened us, you little devil. Who is my father? – Your father? Everyone has a father except me! Come here! – No! Listen. – No. Come here! I’ll tell you a secret. Your father is not like other fathers. Your father is a djinn. You’ve said that before. Where is he? He’s waiting until you grow up a bit, and then he’ll come to fetch you. When? I’ve had enough. They hit me and call me a bastard. Who hit you? I’ll take care of him! The Maalem? I’ll go see him. Wait outside for me. It’s a sin to hit an orphan. Who put that one in your belly? During a warm night I went up to the terrace. I woke up under a crushing weight. A djinn had come to visit me. Like that! As if I was dreaming! You don’t believe me? Zin is the son of a djinn. Where are you going? To listen to Prince Haroun’s story. Wait. Come closer, come closer. Admire this prodigy! He has a monkey’s eyes… He has a monkey’s nose… He has a monkey’s mouth… He has a monkey’s head… He is entirely like a monkey… and yet he is a prince. My eye, blinded by the genie who transformed my prince into a monkey, is testimony to the truth of my story. Who believes that? If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it with the help of a quill. You want a prince’s quill? Haroun! Haroun! Marvelous! Look, he wrote “Prince Haroun”. You can see very well that he’s a prince. The prince wrote his name. Bastard! Still hanging around? And the book? It’s not yet finished. Go fetch it, the Haj is waiting! This game has already lasted 3 months. My pigeon will reach you at daybreak. I knew you were a master calligrapher, and I discover you are also a chessmaster. But how will you respond to my last move? Don’t keep my pigeon too long. He is in love. Your friend Issa from Rozafa. His queen takes my knight. It’s my turn. What are you doing, my boy? She’s dreaming, and I’m stealing her dream. There you are! The master is angry, he’s looking for you! Hassan has been waiting a long time for you! Zin, I have come to fetch you. I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear. I won’t do it again. So, are we friends? I’ve brought the calligraphy. I’ve written “Haroun” in every style. Look, this is for you! You know, you’re like my little brother. I prefer dove-shaped letters. You should have told me you’re in love. In love? Look at the others, declare it to her. I’m not like the others. You’re jealous, so you’re in love. You can’t understand such things now. You’re in love. I tell you, I’m not. It’s like a disease. You catch it unawares, without expecting it. You have nothing else to do? They’re burning books behind the bathhouse. Come! What are you doing? Are you crazy? Go away! – You can’t do that! I’m doing what I was told to do. You’re throwing books in the fire! I was given these books because they’re contaminated. So I’m burning them. It’s not my responsibility. It’s not his fault. Leave it alone! That leaf is contaminated! Don’t you understand? They’re contaminated! Poor boy! He’ll meet misfortune. Who gave you those books? I was in the cemetery. I heard a voice calling “Giafar” from far away. I stood up. Are you Giafar? – Yes. Giafar the Barmek? – Yes. You’ll find a bag of books near your oven. Burn them. Why? So that no one will find my dream. What dream? The dream of the Princess of Samarkand… This fool, chasing his dream, left me his poisoned books. And that poor child ran off with a page from this story. But who is the Princess of Samarkand? Slowly, one after the other. Take it. I was looking for you everywhere. Where is the page? – Hidden. Where? – Under my shirt. Do you want to undress me here? Give me that page! Go take off your shirt and bring me the page. It’s terrific! It’s amazing! There are the columns! It’s the Mosque of Cordoba! What did you say? It’s true! Come! Quick! It’s a miracle! It’s all in your head. – Come with me! Are you having visions in the mosque? You deserve a slap in the face! – You swore! You’re a liar. Give me the page. I’m not a liar. I really did see what I saw. I swear by my father’s life that the columns changed… I saw the Mosque of Cordoba… “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had a dream… in an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate.” What are you doing? – What I have to do. What’s the matter? I while ago, at the edge of the stream,
I felt hot. I saw a red pomegranate drifting. I reached for it… and suddenly lost my balance. I almost drowned. Such a beautiful poem. Years of love… and of poems to the glory of God. So much lost love for an instant of desire. So much love? What is love, in fact? Take this, I don’t deserve it. God, you who can hear the slightest quiver of the smallest leaf in the universe, you don’t need my writing to read my heart. It’s the master’s book. Why do they walk around and around? What are they looking for? They are like time, they go around… they go around forever. If I stop one, will time stop also? – Leave it alone. What are you doing? I’m writing the words for love. So many? More than that! There are sixty! I know only 35 of them. Let me read. I haven’t finished. There are two more. That smells good. The master’s ink always smells of jasmine. Be careful, the ink… Do you like it? I’m going to go show it. Give it back to me! I’m going on a very long trip, Hassan. The prince’s Koran is finished. Everything has an end. Far away, Master? I have to take his Koran to Mecca. I could go with you. The voyage will be long and difficult. I have to cross the sea twice. I know the sea. All in good time. I have played alone for so long… At last I will see again my friend Issa and finish this game. And me, Master? I’m thinking… I’m thinking… Leave me alone just now. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had this dream…” Zin, come here! Come here, come here. What are you embroidering? A shroud. Is that a shroud? The prince’s shroud. Can you embroider something for me? I’m very busy. I have very little time to finish this. And when will you have finished? When the prince dies. When will that be? That’s a secret. The day when I embroider the last letter of the last word. What do you want? I want to buy a book. What book? I don’t know the title. – What! And the author? I don’t know that either. How do you want me to find it! What is it about? – Love. I have no time to waste! – Seriously. Go somewhere else.
I don’t have that sort of text. What does he want? He wants me to deliver his love messages. You are the messenger of love and I the messenger of death. Come! I looked for you everywhere. I was here. Give me the pomegranate. Where is it? Give it to me. It’s Leila who kept it. She read the words for love and laughed a lot. And then? I told her there are 60 of them. And then? She’s waiting for me to bring her the others. The Maalem is waiting for me. Prince Haroun! Patience! Patience! Soon my father will come and you’ll become a prince again. You work even at night! I have to, death doesn’t wait. Will you have finished soon? I’m afraid so… I’m embroidering the heart. Let me see. Will you make a turban for me afterwards? A turban? It’s not for me! A prince’s turban! What prince? That’s my secret. I have to know who will wear it. Do you believe in djinns? – Djinns? Why? First give me an answer! Many things are invisible to our eyes. And yet they exist. Tell me your story. I’m waiting for my father to return and liberate the prince. What prince? The one an evil genie changed
into a monkey. I like your story. Aren’t all princes monkeys? Mine only looks like one! That’s just it, the disaster is that our princes really are monkeys… despite their looks. So, will you make a turban for him? I can pay for it! I’ll do it for nothing, just to keep hope. If you can make of your monkey a prince, there will be hope for ours. Bring me the measurements of his head. Prince Haroun, hold still! Hold still! It’s for a turban embroidered with your name. Soon my father will come and you will again become a prince. Here is your monkey, if you refuse, I’ll kill him. Don’t kill him. Come with us. The prince will die, we’ll burn everything. I don’t want to. Too late. You committed yourself.
The beggars are waiting. I’ve had enough of massacres. The world will never change. Whoever is not with us is against us. I intended to give you your diploma later, but under the present circumstances… and my long journey, I want to take care of it now. Why, Master? We have enough time. Ah, time! Here is mine… This link connects us to the 4th caliph Ali, the first calligrapher. When my master gave me my diploma, he offered me this waw; the waw, Hassan, is the only letter of the alphabet which has its own meaning. It is unique and manifold, like God. The letter of the traveler. I’m tired. Let me rent your storeroom for the night. I’ll pay, tell me your price. I already told you, I don’t have it. It was among the books that were burned. I have nothing to rent out. One night, just one. Even if I find nothing, by morning I will have left. You delay me, I’ll miss the first row. As if a prayer in the 1st row were worth more. Excuse me, Master. I’m seeking the origin of this text… Have you seen Zin? – Not for quite a while. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard…” I looked everywhere for you! Are you ill? – Leave me alone. I’m hanging up ribbons for my father. What’s the matter? I think I saw an apparition. You, too? So we’re the same. I’m sure it was over there. How do you know? I often come and wait for my father. He will appear from over there. I will see him coming from far away, very far away. Tell me, will it be like that? Yes, it will be like that. I almost forgot! Come! They’re selling books at the market! Listen to what the Prophet said. “On this earth I have three favorite things: Perfume, women, and…” A book! A book? A book? Old man, why is your back so bent? I was stooping over my youth to try and find it again. I’m selling this book on love. It’s for him, not for me. Let me see. No, it’s not the right one. The prince died. When? – One or two days ago. A leak from the palace, which remains silent. What are they waiting for? – They disagree. We must fear the worst. It’s you! What do you want? Twelve dinars for renting the storeroom. I didn’t ask for anything, we’re closing. If it were double that… Double? Why not triple? You can’t take anything with you to paradise. Look around you, death is on the prowl… Are you threatening me? He didn’t accept? I’d like to bash the door in. Not necessary, stay here and wait for me. Each a room, and we’ll find it. I found it! You gave me a jolt! You’ll never change. It’s just that I found Prince Haroun! So many books. Night is coming, and you aren’t helping me. I’ll go get help. – Who? Who? – Lovers. No, everyone will know about it. They won’t dare betray us, I know all their secrets. One night will never suffice! Everyone take a room. We’ll surely find it. Zin! Where are you? He must have left. Come! And all because of one book! No one will look for you here. Don’t move. If you hear anyone coming, hide. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to look for Zin. Isn’t Giafar here? – No. I’m looking for Zin. He’s disappeared. And I wanted to give him this ring to protect him. May God protect us. Who will find my son? Wake up. You’re not safe here. One isn’t safe anywhere in this city. I’m going to see my master. He has left for Mecca. When? – Two days ago. You could have told me! How? The beggars started a revolt when they heard that the prince had died. I was summoned to bury the dead. And Zin? He has disappeared. But he’ll come back. I’ll go catch up with my master. – You fool! The beggars are gathering outside the city to ravage it. What direction is Mecca? Go away. No one should see the dead. Come back! If you meet up with the beggars, you’ll meet up with death. Wait! I have to catch up with my master. Dervish! Dervish! Wait for me! I don’t know the way. I’ll take all of them along. The beggars will soon arrive. They’ll stay here with me to spread out the peppers. They’ll massacre you. I fear no one but God. Then fear him who doesn’t fear God. They say the leader
of the beggars loves God. Beware of such love. Who are you? And you? I am Hassan, a student of calligraphy. I’ve lost my master. This burnt leaf is the source of all my misfortune. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Who are you? Sitting on the rim of the basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Her desolate song drew me out of my dream. I woke up.” You’re crazy, you’re leading them straight to death. I’m on my way to meet the beggars and their leader. We are bringing him our tablets
with the Koran. Their leader, this false prophet, broke everything while on his way. Where are you going? To join my Master in Rozafa. He has to stop over at the house of Issa, the Christian herbalist, to finish his game of chess. How did you find this page? I was seeking the words meaning love. There are sixty. Do you know all of them? – No. I found only 47. And you have learned them by heart? – Yes. Huyem. – What does that mean? Love which leads astray, and to death. Go on. Achik… Aziz… You know my name? Your name is Aziz? The person one loves… You really must catch up with your Master. And you, where are you going? You know too much. – From where are you? My name is Aziz, the rest later. Aziz! – Don’t ask any further. Aziz! Aziz! Get away, I’ll join you later. Are you wounded? Show me your hand. You were lucky to escape from them. Come with me to my garden. You will be safe. This is my garden. Who is singing? The Princess of Samarkand sings her lament. Why? She is waiting for the one she loved in her dream. Disguised as a horseman, she searches for him. Time passes and her lamentations make my garden wither more and more. One night, I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Her dismal song drew me out of my dream. Every dream has its response. Is this the neighborhood of Bassatin? I’m looking for Issa, the Christian herbalist Issa. Over there. Leave me alone. A lovely pomegranate for a lovely girl. The fruit of paradise, it’s for you. I’m looking for Issa’s house – the herbalist. His little daughter has just bought a pomegranate from me. I think her father is away on a trip. I don’t know how to eat pomegranates. It’s my favorite fruit. Each seed is a seed of paradise. And if I peel it for you? Aziz… Who are you? Later, later, let’s leave right away. Where are you going? We’re going home. And you? – Help me. I’ve been wandering around this way for nights to bury my young master in the garden of his dreams, where the Princess of Samarkand waits for him. Who is your master? Youth smiled upon him, but he abandoned everything for a dream. For a dream. He left to seek the Princess of Samarkand, but he encountered death. Leave that! Hey! You! Take it. This is the book where he inscribed his dreams and secrets. I don’t want to bury it with him. Don’t open it. It will bring misfortune. Hassan, we have almost arrived. Leave it. The book I was seeking so avidly: “The Collar of the Dove” by lbn Hazn Al Andalousi. Aziz… Are you the Princess of Samarkand? “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard.” What are you waiting for, old man, by the side of the road? – For someone. But why at night? I stay here… For a long time, no one has waited for me… Why here? There was a market here… I sold books… But now, here, everywhere, it’s all of no importance. But you? Why have you come alone at night along this road? Tell me your story. It’s so long! For a long time I have not heard a human voice. I am a student of calligraphy. I was wondering what love is, when one day I found a half-burnt page. To know more, I looked for the book, but I didn’t find it. Then I lost my master. And then? I met Aziz. Who is Aziz? I lost her before knowing it… And what was on the burnt page? A dream. What was the dream about? It wasn’t only a dream. I saw the Princess of Samarkand. People often run after a dream. One day they run across it and don’t recognize it. This quill belonged to a calligrapher who spent twenty years writing the letter waw. Take it. The waw, Hassan, is the only letter of the alphabet that has its own meaning. It is unique and manifold, like God. The letter of the traveler. The letter waw. For the Andalusias time and again rebuilt,
whose heaps of rubble and
inexhaustible hopes we carry within us. The Lost Collar of the Dove Good morning, Master. Here is yesterday’s exercise, Master. Good, good. The measurements are correct. But, Hassan, the value of writing is beyond measure. It is writing, Hassan, which gives rhythm to the absolute and is the link between the visible and the invisible world. The DHAHER and the BATN. The letter is our prayer, Hassan. It is at this price that calligraphy becomes witness to divine beauty. Hassan… Prepare a bit of ink for me. Words for love: Thanaf jawa… Hear! Hear! Hear what the prophet said. He said, I have three favorite things on this earth: Perfume, women, and prayer. He indeed mentioned perfume first. In perfume is woman’s secret. In woman is the secret of love. Love, the great prayer of the universe. Hear, hear, hear… But what is love exactly? Love? Buy this… It is the gift of lovers. How does one know if one is in love? In buying my perfume. Wait, wait… How much? How much? Hear! Hear! Hear what the prophet said… How’s the songbird? He’s already given his recital. He doesn’t want to sing any more. No one except you has ever heard him. A while ago he took my breath away. All right! Don’t exaggerate! Has my master’s book arrived? Not yet. Our ships are blocked on the opposite shore. What book? The Previsions of a Traveler by lbn Djazar. I think I have it. Come with me. My storeroom is disorganized and I don’t know if I can find it. Let’s look here first. You have a lot of books! Wait here! Are there mice? I must get a cat. Zin! Zin! The first order should have sufficed. The prince crossed out a lot before he asked my master to finish the Koran for him. He had sworn to write it himself, but the quill fell from his hand. A bad omen. With your master’s calligraphy, the Koran will be a marvel. Will the prince’s vow be fulfilled anyway? Yes. It is the master’s hand gliding over the page, but it is the prince’s spirit guiding his hand. Go see the Haj. Listen! Here it is! I found it! It’s not the same title. But the same author, that’s the same. Not for my master. It is not the same paper. The color half a shade… Have you found other words for love? No. Why know them all? I want to understand what love is. Several lives would not suffice to probe its mysteries. One word is enough, it contains all the others. As it is with God. He is called the Omniscient, the Magnanimous, the Unfathomable. I can give you three words for love. What are they? Ichk, Wajd, Huyem. How many do you have now? Twenty-nine plus three, thirty-two. Huyem! That’s love which leads astray and to death. What are you hiding? A talisman? Yes. Go away! The Maalem is waiting. Can I go with you to school? – Don’t loiter. I’ll be there first. A djinn. He won’t live long that way. You keep disappearing. I told you to go fetch a copy from Fatima Zohra! Hurry up! Get going! Zin! Zin! Can’t you see I’m running? A message for her. It’s the sky-blue. I know. Don’t slow me up. Zin! What are you doing? I’m watching. Watching what? – The columns. Sometimes they change color. They become a red and white forest, but you have to take them by surprise. That’s all in your head. – It’s not my fault if I see things others don’t. Come, the lesson has begun. …to appreciate sweet tenderness, passionate love, it’s the moment when the heart yields to reason which forces a declaration. Ardent love. Do you understand all that? Everyone understands according to the size of his ears. Mine are big! Insane love. It’s the moment when one prefers to withdraw into oneself. Passion corresponds to the moment when one gives to the beloved a soul which blends with hers. In lovesickness the whole body is aroused, and feelings transcend the boundaries of reason. Frenzy is a breaking of all bonds after a constant struggle. The lunacy of love means no longer being aware of what self-control requires. Languor is the moment when life seems insignificant in the absence of the loved one. Do you have any questions? During the last lesson you used two words for being in love: Achik and Khalil. In Arabic there are sixty words to express nuances of being in love. Here is your letter. Come! I’m working, but I’ll catch up with you! Your letter? Wait a minute, I haven’t finished. I don’t have any more time! I have what you need. Only… it costs much more! Her eyes are so immense that forty boats could be rowed in them for forty years without ever reaching the shore. What will you do with all this money? None of your business! Are you Zin? Why? Do you know the calligrapher’s house? Why? This is a gift. – Show me. It’s for Leila, the calligrapher’s daughter. Pick a color. Any more cheerful colors? Saffron? They’re already taken. Not for you, but for me. Each couple has its color, otherwise how could I recognize them? Pick a color, or I’ll choose one for you. This one. A message? No, but you owe me money. I know. Pay me with figs. Come on, come on! Give me more, I have a brother, and one for Zin… Is the prince here? – Yes. Prince, Prince, I have something for you. Prince Haroun, look! Watch it well, it’s money for the turban. I’ll be back right away. Are you ill? – No. Then you’re in love? With whom? If you tell me I’ll deliver your messages for free. With whom? – With no one. What do you want? I want calligraphy saying “Prince Haroun”. Who is Prince Haroun? That’s my secret. You want to know other people’s secrets, but you keep your own. What style of writing? Calligraphy for a prince. I love this melody. Who’s playing? – Leila… the master’s daughter. It’s for her that I have a message. What do you all have against me? The Maalem calls me a bastard. You hit me. I’ll tell my father. – You don’t have one. Yes I do. – Where is he? Wait. Mama! It’s hot here. You frightened us, you little devil. Who is my father? – Your father? Everyone has a father except me! Come here! – No! Listen. – No. Come here! I’ll tell you a secret. Your father is not like other fathers. Your father is a djinn. You’ve said that before. Where is he? He’s waiting until you grow up a bit, and then he’ll come to fetch you. When? I’ve had enough. They hit me and call me a bastard. Who hit you? I’ll take care of him! The Maalem? I’ll go see him. Wait outside for me. It’s a sin to hit an orphan. Who put that one in your belly? During a warm night I went up to the terrace. I woke up under a crushing weight. A djinn had come to visit me. Like that! As if I was dreaming! You don’t believe me? Zin is the son of a djinn. Where are you going? To listen to Prince Haroun’s story. Wait. Come closer, come closer. Admire this prodigy! He has a monkey’s eyes… He has a monkey’s nose… He has a monkey’s mouth… He has a monkey’s head… He is entirely like a monkey… and yet he is a prince. My eye, blinded by the genie who transformed my prince into a monkey, is testimony to the truth of my story. Who believes that? If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it with the help of a quill. You want a prince’s quill? Haroun! Haroun! Marvelous! Look, he wrote “Prince Haroun”. You can see very well that he’s a prince. The prince wrote his name. Bastard! Still hanging around? And the book? It’s not yet finished. Go fetch it, the Haj is waiting! This game has already lasted 3 months. My pigeon will reach you at daybreak. I knew you were a master calligrapher, and I discover you are also a chessmaster. But how will you respond to my last move? Don’t keep my pigeon too long. He is in love. Your friend Issa from Rozafa. His queen takes my knight. It’s my turn. What are you doing, my boy? She’s dreaming, and I’m stealing her dream. There you are! The master is angry, he’s looking for you! Hassan has been waiting a long time for you! Zin, I have come to fetch you. I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear. I won’t do it again. So, are we friends? I’ve brought the calligraphy. I’ve written “Haroun” in every style. Look, this is for you! You know, you’re like my little brother. I prefer dove-shaped letters. You should have told me you’re in love. In love? Look at the others, declare it to her. I’m not like the others. You’re jealous, so you’re in love. You can’t understand such things now. You’re in love. I tell you, I’m not. It’s like a disease. You catch it unawares, without expecting it. You have nothing else to do? They’re burning books behind the bathhouse. Come! What are you doing? Are you crazy? Go away! – You can’t do that! I’m doing what I was told to do. You’re throwing books in the fire! I was given these books because they’re contaminated. So I’m burning them. It’s not my responsibility. It’s not his fault. Leave it alone! That leaf is contaminated! Don’t you understand? They’re contaminated! Poor boy! He’ll meet misfortune. Who gave you those books? I was in the cemetery. I heard a voice calling “Giafar” from far away. I stood up. Are you Giafar? – Yes. Giafar the Barmek? – Yes. You’ll find a bag of books near your oven. Burn them. Why? So that no one will find my dream. What dream? The dream of the Princess of Samarkand… This fool, chasing his dream, left me his poisoned books. And that poor child ran off with a page from this story. But who is the Princess of Samarkand? Slowly, one after the other. Take it. I was looking for you everywhere. Where is the page? – Hidden. Where? – Under my shirt. Do you want to undress me here? Give me that page! Go take off your shirt and bring me the page. It’s terrific! It’s amazing! There are the columns! It’s the Mosque of Cordoba! What did you say? It’s true! Come! Quick! It’s a miracle! It’s all in your head. – Come with me! Are you having visions in the mosque? You deserve a slap in the face! – You swore! You’re a liar. Give me the page. I’m not a liar. I really did see what I saw. I swear by my father’s life that the columns changed… I saw the Mosque of Cordoba… “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had a dream… in an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate.” What are you doing? – What I have to do. What’s the matter? I while ago, at the edge of the stream,
I felt hot. I saw a red pomegranate drifting. I reached for it… and suddenly lost my balance. I almost drowned. Such a beautiful poem. Years of love… and of poems to the glory of God. So much lost love for an instant of desire. So much love? What is love, in fact? Take this, I don’t deserve it. God, you who can hear the slightest quiver of the smallest leaf in the universe, you don’t need my writing to read my heart. It’s the master’s book. Why do they walk around and around? What are they looking for? They are like time, they go around… they go around forever. If I stop one, will time stop also? – Leave it alone. What are you doing? I’m writing the words for love. So many? More than that! There are sixty! I know only 35 of them. Let me read. I haven’t finished. There are two more. That smells good. The master’s ink always smells of jasmine. Be careful, the ink… Do you like it? I’m going to go show it. Give it back to me! I’m going on a very long trip, Hassan. The prince’s Koran is finished. Everything has an end. Far away, Master? I have to take his Koran to Mecca. I could go with you. The voyage will be long and difficult. I have to cross the sea twice. I know the sea. All in good time. I have played alone for so long… At last I will see again my friend Issa and finish this game. And me, Master? I’m thinking… I’m thinking… Leave me alone just now. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had this dream…” Zin, come here! Come here, come here. What are you embroidering? A shroud. Is that a shroud? The prince’s shroud. Can you embroider something for me? I’m very busy. I have very little time to finish this. And when will you have finished? When the prince dies. When will that be? That’s a secret. The day when I embroider the last letter of the last word. What do you want? I want to buy a book. What book? I don’t know the title. – What! And the author? I don’t know that either. How do you want me to find it! What is it about? – Love. I have no time to waste! – Seriously. Go somewhere else.
I don’t have that sort of text. What does he want? He wants me to deliver his love messages. You are the messenger of love and I the messenger of death. Come! I looked for you everywhere. I was here. Give me the pomegranate. Where is it? Give it to me. It’s Leila who kept it. She read the words for love and laughed a lot. And then? I told her there are 60 of them. And then? She’s waiting for me to bring her the others. The Maalem is waiting for me. Prince Haroun! Patience! Patience! Soon my father will come and you’ll become a prince again. You work even at night! I have to, death doesn’t wait. Will you have finished soon? I’m afraid so… I’m embroidering the heart. Let me see. Will you make a turban for me afterwards? A turban? It’s not for me! A prince’s turban! What prince? That’s my secret. I have to know who will wear it. Do you believe in djinns? – Djinns? Why? First give me an answer! Many things are invisible to our eyes. And yet they exist. Tell me your story. I’m waiting for my father to return and liberate the prince. What prince? The one an evil genie changed
into a monkey. I like your story. Aren’t all princes monkeys? Mine only looks like one! That’s just it, the disaster is that our princes really are monkeys… despite their looks. So, will you make a turban for him? I can pay for it! I’ll do it for nothing, just to keep hope. If you can make of your monkey a prince, there will be hope for ours. Bring me the measurements of his head. Prince Haroun, hold still! Hold still! It’s for a turban embroidered with your name. Soon my father will come and you will again become a prince. Here is your monkey, if you refuse, I’ll kill him. Don’t kill him. Come with us. The prince will die, we’ll burn everything. I don’t want to. Too late. You committed yourself.
The beggars are waiting. I’ve had enough of massacres. The world will never change. Whoever is not with us is against us. I intended to give you your diploma later, but under the present circumstances… and my long journey, I want to take care of it now. Why, Master? We have enough time. Ah, time! Here is mine… This link connects us to the 4th caliph Ali, the first calligrapher. When my master gave me my diploma, he offered me this waw; the waw, Hassan, is the only letter of the alphabet which has its own meaning. It is unique and manifold, like God. The letter of the traveler. I’m tired. Let me rent your storeroom for the night. I’ll pay, tell me your price. I already told you, I don’t have it. It was among the books that were burned. I have nothing to rent out. One night, just one. Even if I find nothing, by morning I will have left. You delay me, I’ll miss the first row. As if a prayer in the 1st row were worth more. Excuse me, Master. I’m seeking the origin of this text… Have you seen Zin? – Not for quite a while. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard…” I looked everywhere for you! Are you ill? – Leave me alone. I’m hanging up ribbons for my father. What’s the matter? I think I saw an apparition. You, too? So we’re the same. I’m sure it was over there. How do you know? I often come and wait for my father. He will appear from over there. I will see him coming from far away, very far away. Tell me, will it be like that? Yes, it will be like that. I almost forgot! Come! They’re selling books at the market! Listen to what the Prophet said. “On this earth I have three favorite things: Perfume, women, and…” A book! A book? A book? Old man, why is your back so bent? I was stooping over my youth to try and find it again. I’m selling this book on love. It’s for him, not for me. Let me see. No, it’s not the right one. The prince died. When? – One or two days ago. A leak from the palace, which remains silent. What are they waiting for? – They disagree. We must fear the worst. It’s you! What do you want? Twelve dinars for renting the storeroom. I didn’t ask for anything, we’re closing. If it were double that… Double? Why not triple? You can’t take anything with you to paradise. Look around you, death is on the prowl… Are you threatening me? He didn’t accept? I’d like to bash the door in. Not necessary, stay here and wait for me. Each a room, and we’ll find it. I found it! You gave me a jolt! You’ll never change. It’s just that I found Prince Haroun! So many books. Night is coming, and you aren’t helping me. I’ll go get help. – Who? Who? – Lovers. No, everyone will know about it. They won’t dare betray us, I know all their secrets. One night will never suffice! Everyone take a room. We’ll surely find it. Zin! Where are you? He must have left. Come! And all because of one book! No one will look for you here. Don’t move. If you hear anyone coming, hide. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to look for Zin. Isn’t Giafar here? – No. I’m looking for Zin. He’s disappeared. And I wanted to give him this ring to protect him. May God protect us. Who will find my son? Wake up. You’re not safe here. One isn’t safe anywhere in this city. I’m going to see my master. He has left for Mecca. When? – Two days ago. You could have told me! How? The beggars started a revolt when they heard that the prince had died. I was summoned to bury the dead. And Zin? He has disappeared. But he’ll come back. I’ll go catch up with my master. – You fool! The beggars are gathering outside the city to ravage it. What direction is Mecca? Go away. No one should see the dead. Come back! If you meet up with the beggars, you’ll meet up with death. Wait! I have to catch up with my master. Dervish! Dervish! Wait for me! I don’t know the way. I’ll take all of them along. The beggars will soon arrive. They’ll stay here with me to spread out the peppers. They’ll massacre you. I fear no one but God. Then fear him who doesn’t fear God. They say the leader
of the beggars loves God. Beware of such love. Who are you? And you? I am Hassan, a student of calligraphy. I’ve lost my master. This burnt leaf is the source of all my misfortune. “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard. One night I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Who are you? Sitting on the rim of the basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Her desolate song drew me out of my dream. I woke up.” You’re crazy, you’re leading them straight to death. I’m on my way to meet the beggars and their leader. We are bringing him our tablets
with the Koran. Their leader, this false prophet, broke everything while on his way. Where are you going? To join my Master in Rozafa. He has to stop over at the house of Issa, the Christian herbalist, to finish his game of chess. How did you find this page? I was seeking the words meaning love. There are sixty. Do you know all of them? – No. I found only 47. And you have learned them by heart? – Yes. Huyem. – What does that mean? Love which leads astray, and to death. Go on. Achik… Aziz… You know my name? Your name is Aziz? The person one loves… You really must catch up with your Master. And you, where are you going? You know too much. – From where are you? My name is Aziz, the rest later. Aziz! – Don’t ask any further. Aziz! Aziz! Get away, I’ll join you later. Are you wounded? Show me your hand. You were lucky to escape from them. Come with me to my garden. You will be safe. This is my garden. Who is singing? The Princess of Samarkand sings her lament. Why? She is waiting for the one she loved in her dream. Disguised as a horseman, she searches for him. Time passes and her lamentations make my garden wither more and more. One night, I had this dream: In an empty basin two old women kept throwing water as if to quench the basin’s thirst. Sitting on the rim of the empty basin, the Princess of Samarkand stared with her big eyes at a red pomegranate. Her dismal song drew me out of my dream. Every dream has its response. Is this the neighborhood of Bassatin? I’m looking for Issa, the Christian herbalist Issa. Over there. Leave me alone. A lovely pomegranate for a lovely girl. The fruit of paradise, it’s for you. I’m looking for Issa’s house – the herbalist. His little daughter has just bought a pomegranate from me. I think her father is away on a trip. I don’t know how to eat pomegranates. It’s my favorite fruit. Each seed is a seed of paradise. And if I peel it for you? Aziz… Who are you? Later, later, let’s leave right away. Where are you going? We’re going home. And you? – Help me. I’ve been wandering around this way for nights to bury my young master in the garden of his dreams, where the Princess of Samarkand waits for him. Who is your master? Youth smiled upon him, but he abandoned everything for a dream. For a dream. He left to seek the Princess of Samarkand, but he encountered death. Leave that! Hey! You! Take it. This is the book where he inscribed his dreams and secrets. I don’t want to bury it with him. Don’t open it. It will bring misfortune. Hassan, we have almost arrived. Leave it. The book I was seeking so avidly: “The Collar of the Dove” by lbn Hazn Al Andalousi. Aziz… Are you the Princess of Samarkand? “Love – may God protect you – the beginning is easy, the end is hard.” What are you waiting for, old man, by the side of the road? – For someone. But why at night? I stay here… For a long time, no one has waited for me… Why here? There was a market here… I sold books… But now, here, everywhere, it’s all of no importance. But you? Why have you come alone at night along this road? Tell me your story. It’s so long! For a long time I have not heard a human voice. I am a student of calligraphy. I was wondering what love is, when one day I found a half-burnt page. To know more, I looked for the book, but I didn’t find it. Then I lost my master. And then? I met Aziz. Who is Aziz? I lost her before knowing it… And what was on the burnt page? A dream. What was the dream about? It wasn’t only a dream. I saw the Princess of Samarkand. People often run after a dream. One day they run across it and don’t recognize it. This quill belonged to a calligrapher who spent twenty years writing the letter waw. Take it. The waw, Hassan, is the only letter of the alphabet that has its own meaning. It is unique and manifold, like God. The letter of the traveler. The letter waw.

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