مُتَدَرِّبُ العَطَّارِ في البَصْرَة

The Perfumer's Apprentice of Basra

الفَصْلُ الأَوَّل: رَوَائِحُ الشَّوْق

Chapter One: Scents of Longing

كَانَ إِلْيَاسُ بنُ دَاوُدَ شَابًّا فَقِيرًا جَاءَ إِلَى البَصْرَةِ مِنَ المَوْصِلِ، يَبْحَثُ عَنْ حِرْفَةٍ تُطْعِمُهُ. وَجَدَ عَمَلًا عِنْدَ شَمْعُونَ العَطَّارِ، أَشْهَرِ صَانِعِي العُطُورِ فِي العِرَاقِ. كَانَ شَمْعُونُ شَيْخًا كَبِيرًا، بَصَرُهُ ضَعِيفٌ، لَكِنَّ أَنْفَهُ يَشُمُّ رَائِحَةَ الوَرْدِ مِنْ فَرْسَخَيْن.

Ilyas ibn Dawud was a poor young man who came to Basra from Mosul, seeking a trade to feed him. He found work with Sham'un the Perfumer, the most famous fragrance maker in Iraq. Sham'un was an old man, his sight weak, but his nose could smell a rose from two leagues away.

وَكَانَتْ لِشَمْعُونَ زَوْجَةٌ شَابَّةٌ تُدْعَى نَرْجِسَ، اسْمُهَا عَلَى مُسَمَّاها. جَسَدُهَا مُعَطَّرٌ دَائِمًا بِأَنْدَرِ العُطُورِ، وَلَحْمُهَا وَافِرٌ كَأَنَّهَا زُجَاجَةُ عِطْرٍ مَمْلُوءَةٌ بِالكَنْز. أَوَّلُ مَا شَمَّهُ إِلْيَاسُ فِي ذَلِكَ البَيْتِ كَانَ عَرَقَهَا المُخْتَلِطَ بِالعَنْبَرِ، فَسَكِرَ.

Sham'un had a young wife called Narjis, whose name matched her nature. Her body was always perfumed with the rarest fragrances, her flesh abundant as if she were a perfume bottle filled with treasure. The first thing Ilyas smelled in that house was her sweat mixed with ambergris, and he became intoxicated.

الفَصْلُ الثَّاني: العِطْرُ المَمْنُوع

Chapter Two: The Forbidden Fragrance

"أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَتَعَلَّمَ صُنْعَ عِطْرٍ لَا يُنْسَى،" قَالَ إِلْيَاسُ لِأُسْتَاذِهِ.

"I want to learn to make an unforgettable fragrance," Ilyas said to his master.

"العِطْرُ الَّذِي لَا يُنْسَى،" أَجَابَ الشَّيْخُ، "يُصْنَعُ مِنَ الشَّوْقِ وَالحِرْمَانِ. عَلَيْكَ أَنْ تَشْتَاقَ إِلَى شَيْءٍ مُسْتَحِيلٍ، ثُمَّ تُقَطِّرَ شَوْقَك."

"The unforgettable fragrance," answered the old man, "is made from longing and deprivation. You must yearn for something impossible, then distill your yearning."

فَهِمَ إِلْيَاسُ القَصْد. كَانَ شَوْقُهُ إِلَى نَرْجِسَ يَحْرِقُهُ. كُلَّمَا مَرَّتْ بِهِ فِي المَمَرَّاتِ الضَّيِّقَةِ، وَجَسَدُهَا الثَّقِيلُ يَلْمِسُ جَسَدَهُ، شَعَرَ أَنَّهُ سَيَحْتَرِق.

Ilyas understood the meaning. His longing for Narjis was burning him. Whenever she passed him in the narrow corridors, her heavy body brushing his, he felt he would combust.

وَنَرْجِسُ كَانَتْ تَعْرِف. كَانَتْ تَتَعَمَّدُ المُرُورَ بِهِ، تَتَعَمَّدُ إِسْقَاطَ مِنْدِيلِهَا المُعَطَّرِ أَمَامَه. وَكَانَتْ تَنْظُرُ إِلَيْهِ بِعَيْنَيْنِ تَقُولَانِ: "أَنَا العِطْرُ الَّذِي تَبْحَثُ عَنْه."

And Narjis knew. She would deliberately pass by him, deliberately drop her perfumed handkerchief before him. She would look at him with eyes that said: "I am the fragrance you seek."

الفَصْلُ الثَّالِث: التَّقْطِيرُ السِّرِّيّ

Chapter Three: The Secret Distillation

فِي لَيْلَةٍ كَانَ شَمْعُونُ نَائِمًا فِي عُرْفَتِهِ بَعْدَ شُرْبِ النَّبِيذِ، جَاءَتْ نَرْجِسُ إِلَى المَعْمَل. وَقَفَتْ خَلْفَ إِلْيَاسَ وَهُوَ يُقَطِّرُ الوَرْدَ، وَضَمَّتْهُ مِنَ الخَلْفِ. شَعَرَ بِنَهْدَيْهَا الثَّقِيلَيْنِ عَلَى ظَهْرِهِ كَوِسَادَتَيْنِ مِنْ حَرِير.

On a night when Sham'un slept in his chamber after drinking wine, Narjis came to the laboratory. She stood behind Ilyas as he distilled roses and embraced him from behind. He felt her heavy breasts on his back like two silk pillows.

"دَعْنِي أُعَلِّمْكَ تَقْطِيرًا آخَرَ،" هَمَسَتْ فِي أُذُنِهِ.

"Let me teach you another distillation," she whispered in his ear.

أَدَارَهَا إِلَيْهِ وَقَبَّلَهَا. كَانَ طَعْمُ شَفَتَيْهَا كَالعَسَلِ المَمْزُوجِ بِالمِسْك. وَخَلَعَ رِدَاءَهَا، فَظَهَرَ جَسَدُهَا الفَيَّاضُ كَبُسْتَانٍ فِي الرَّبِيع.

He turned her to face him and kissed her. Her lips tasted like honey mixed with musk. He removed her robe, and her overflowing body appeared like a garden in spring.

"هَذِهِ هِيَ القَارُورَةُ،" قَالَتْ وَهِيَ تُشِيرُ إِلَى جَسَدِهَا. "وَأَنْتَ النَّار. قَطِّرْنِي."

"This is the vessel," she said, pointing to her body. "And you are the fire. Distill me."

الفَصْلُ الرَّابِع: رَائِحَةُ الخَطِيئَة

Chapter Four: The Scent of Sin

لَيْلَةً بَعْدَ لَيْلَةٍ، كَانَا يَلْتَقِيَانِ فِي المَعْمَلِ بَيْنَ قَوَارِيرِ العِطْرِ وَأَكْيَاسِ الوَرْد. عَلَّمَتْهُ نَرْجِسُ كُلَّ بُقْعَةٍ فِي جَسَدِهَا تُصْدِرُ رَائِحَةً مُخْتَلِفَةً: رَقَبَتُهَا رَائِحَتُهَا اللَّيْلُ، وَمَا بَيْنَ نَهْدَيْهَا رَائِحَتُهُ الخُبْزُ السَّاخِنُ، وَمَا بَيْنَ فَخِذَيْهَا رَائِحَتُهُ البَحْرُ.

Night after night, they met in the laboratory among perfume bottles and sacks of roses. Narjis taught him every spot on her body that produced a different scent: her neck smelled of night, between her breasts smelled of hot bread, and between her thighs smelled of the sea.

"أَرِيدُ أَنْ أُعَبِّئَكِ فِي قَارُورَةٍ،" قَالَ لَهَا وَهُوَ يَشُمُّ كُلَّ بُوصَةٍ مِنْ لَحْمِهَا الدَّافِئ.

"I want to bottle you," he said, inhaling every inch of her warm flesh.

"لَنْ تَسْتَطِيعَ،" ضَحِكَتْ وَجَسَدُهَا يَرْتَجِفُ تَحْتَهُ. "أَنَا عِطْرٌ لَا يُحْبَسُ."

"You cannot," she laughed, her body trembling beneath him. "I am a fragrance that cannot be contained."

الفَصْلُ الخَامِس: الإِكْسِيرُ الأَخِير

Chapter Five: The Final Elixir

مَاتَ شَمْعُونُ فِي نَوْمِهِ بَعْدَ سَنَةٍ. وَلَمْ يَعْلَمْ أَحَدٌ أَنَّ إِلْيَاسَ وَنَرْجِسَ كَانَا زَوْجَيْنِ سِرًّا مُنْذُ أَشْهُر. وَرِثَ إِلْيَاسُ الدُّكَّانَ، وَصَارَتْ نَرْجِسُ زَوْجَتَهُ عَلَنًا.

Sham'un died in his sleep after a year. None knew that Ilyas and Narjis had been secretly married for months. Ilyas inherited the shop, and Narjis became his wife publicly.

وَصَنَعَ لَهَا عِطْرًا لَمْ يَشُمَّ العَالَمُ مِثْلَهُ: قَطَّرَ فِيهِ عَرَقَهَا وَرَائِحَةَ جِلْدِهَا وَدَمْعَةً مِنْ عَيْنَيْهَا حِينَ تَبْلُغُ الذُّرْوَة. سَمَّاهُ "نَرْجِس"، وَصَارَ أَغْلَى عِطْرٍ فِي الشَّرْق.

He made for her a perfume the world had never smelled: distilled from her sweat and the scent of her skin and a tear from her eyes at the moment of climax. He named it "Narjis," and it became the most expensive perfume in the East.

الخَاتِمَة

Epilogue

يُقَالُ إِنَّ مَنْ يَشُمُّ عِطْرَ "نَرْجِس" يَقَعُ فِي الحُبِّ فَوْرًا. وَيُقَالُ إِنَّ الوَصْفَةَ ضَاعَتْ بَعْدَ مَوْتِ إِلْيَاسَ وَنَرْجِسَ، لِأَنَّ بَعْضَ العُطُورِ لَا تُصْنَعُ إِلَّا مِنَ الحُبِّ الحَقِيقِيّ.

It is said that whoever smells the "Narjis" perfume falls instantly in love. And it is said the formula was lost after Ilyas and Narjis died, for some perfumes can only be made from true love.