"[FN#24] "God requite thee with good, O my son!"
replied the stoker. "Surely He will compensate us with his
bounties and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my
son? Shall we walk abroad to view Damascus and cheer our
spirits?" "Thy will is mine," replied Zoulmekan. So the stoker
took him by the hand, and they sallied forth and walked on, till
they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they
found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs
and saddle-horses and Bactrian camels and slaves, white and
black, and folk running to and fro and a great bustle. Quoth
Zoulmekan, "I wonder to whom all these camels and stuffs and
servants belong!" So he asked one of the slaves, and he replied,
"These are presents that the Viceroy of Damascus is sending to
King Omar ben Ennuman, with the tribute of Syria." When Zoulmekan
heard his father's name, his eyes filled with tears and he
repeated the following verses:
Ye that are far removed from my desireful sight, Ye that within
my heart are sojourners for aye,
Your comeliness is gone and life no more for me Is sweet, nor
will the pains of longing pass away.
If God one day decree reunion of our loves, How long a tale of
woes my tongue will have to say!
Then he wept and the stoker said to him, "O my son, thou art
hardly yet recovered; so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a
relapse for thee.
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