The Poet's Muse of Baghdad | مُلْهِمَةُ الشّاعِرِ في بَغْداد
"In the golden age of Baghdad, a renowned poet discovers his greatest inspiration in the arms of a palace courtesan whose body becomes the canvas for his most passionate verses."
مُلْهِمَةُ الشّاعِرِ في بَغْداد
The Poet's Muse of Baghdad
الفصل الأول: شاعِرٌ بِلا إلْهام
Chapter One: A Poet Without Inspiration
في زَمَنِ الخَليفَةِ المَأْمونِ، حَيْثُ كانَتْ بَغْدادُ جَنَّةَ الأَدَبِ وَالعِلْمِ، عاشَ الشّاعِرُ عَمْرُو بنُ الوَليدِ. كانَ في الخامِسَةِ وَالثَّلاثينَ، أَشْهَرَ شُعَراءِ القَصْرِ، لكِنَّهُ مُنْذُ سَنَةٍ لَمْ يَكْتُبْ بَيْتاً واحِداً.
In the time of Caliph al-Ma'mun, when Baghdad was the paradise of literature and knowledge, lived the poet Amr ibn al-Walid. He was thirty-five, the most famous of the palace poets, but for a year he had not written a single verse.
"أَيْنَ قَصائِدُكَ يا عَمْرُو؟" سَأَلَهُ الخَليفَةُ. "أَيْنَ الكَلِماتُ التي كانَتْ تُسْكِرُنا؟"
"Where are your poems, O Amr?" asked the Caliph. "Where are the words that used to intoxicate us?"
"مَوْلايَ، إلْهامي جَفَّ كَنَهْرٍ في الصَّيْفِ. لا أَعْرِفُ السَّبَبَ."
"My lord, my inspiration has dried like a river in summer. I do not know the reason."
"اِبْحَثْ عَنِ الإلْهامِ، وَإلّا فَسَأَبْحَثُ عَنْ شاعِرٍ آخَرَ."
"Search for inspiration, or else I will search for another poet."
خَرَجَ عَمْرُو حَزيناً. مَشى في أَزِقَّةِ بَغْدادَ لَيْلاً، يَبْحَثُ عَنْ شَيْءٍ يُحَرِّكُ قَلْبَهُ.
Amr left sad. He walked through the alleys of Baghdad at night, searching for something to move his heart.
الفصل الثاني: الجارِيَةُ في الحَديقَة
Chapter Two: The Courtesan in the Garden
في حَديقَةِ القَصْرِ، سَمِعَ صَوْتَ غِناءٍ يَأْتي مِنْ خَلْفِ الأَشْجارِ. صَوْتٌ كَخَريرِ الماءِ، عَذْبٌ وَحَزينٌ.
In the palace garden, he heard a singing voice coming from behind the trees. A voice like the murmur of water, sweet and sad.
تَسَلَّلَ نَحْوَ الصَّوْتِ. رَأى امْرَأَةً تَجْلِسُ عِنْدَ النّافورَةِ. جارِيَةٌ مِنْ جَواري القَصْرِ، لَمْ يَرَها مِنْ قَبْلُ.
He crept toward the voice. He saw a woman sitting by the fountain. A courtesan from the palace, whom he had never seen before.
كانَتْ في الثّامِنَةِ وَالعِشْرينَ، مُمْتَلِئَةَ الجَسَدِ كَالبَدْرِ، بَشَرَتُها سَمْراءُ كَالتَّمْرِ، وَشَعْرُها أَسْوَدُ طَويلٌ يَنْسابُ كَالشَّلّالِ.
She was twenty-eight, full-bodied like the full moon, her skin brown as dates, and her black hair long and flowing like a waterfall.
"مَنْ أَنْتِ؟" سَأَلَها.
"Who are you?" he asked her.
الْتَفَتَتْ. عَيْناها واسِعَتانِ سَوْداوانِ كَلَيْلِ بَغْدادَ.
She turned. Her eyes were wide and black as the night of Baghdad.
"أَنا نَرْجِسُ. جارِيَةُ الخَليفَةِ."
"I am Narjis. The Caliph's courtesan."
"جارِيَةُ الخَليفَةِ؟ وَلَمْ أَرَكِ مِنْ قَبْلُ؟"
"The Caliph's courtesan? And I have never seen you before?"
"لِأَنَّ الخَليفَةَ نَسِيَني. اشْتَرَني ثُمَّ تَرَكَني في جَناحٍ مَهْجورٍ."
"Because the Caliph forgot me. He bought me then left me in an abandoned wing."
الفصل الثالث: الكَلِماتُ المَمْنوعَة
Chapter Three: Forbidden Words
جَلَسَ بِجانِبِها. شَيْءٌ في عَيْنَيْها أَشْعَلَ جَمْرَةً في صَدْرِهِ.
He sat beside her. Something in her eyes ignited an ember in his chest.
"لِماذا تَغَنّينَ بِهذا الحُزْنِ؟"
"Why do you sing with such sadness?"
"لِأَنَّني وَحيدَةٌ. جِسْمي مِلْكٌ لِلْخَليفَةِ، لكِنَّ قَلْبي حُرٌّ، وَهُوَ يَحْتَضِرُ مِنَ الوَحْدَةِ."
"Because I am lonely. My body belongs to the Caliph, but my heart is free, and it is dying of loneliness."
"أَنا أَيْضاً وَحيدٌ. شاعِرٌ بِلا كَلِماتٍ، مِثْلَ طائِرٍ بِلا أَجْنِحَةٍ."
"I am also lonely. A poet without words, like a bird without wings."
نَظَرَتْ إلَيْهِ. "أَنْتَ عَمْرُو بنُ الوَليدِ؟ الشّاعِرُ الذي تُرَدِّدُ الجَواري قَصائِدَهُ؟"
She looked at him. "You are Amr ibn al-Walid? The poet whose poems the courtesans recite?"
"كُنْتُ ذلِكَ الشّاعِرَ. أَمّا الآنَ فَأَنا ظِلُّهُ."
"I was that poet. Now I am his shadow."
أَمْسَكَتْ يَدَهُ. "رُبَّما أَسْتَطيعُ مُساعَدَتَكَ."
She held his hand. "Perhaps I can help you."
الفصل الرابع: الإلْهامُ الجَسَدِيّ
Chapter Four: Physical Inspiration
بَدَأَتْ تَأْتيهِ كُلَّ لَيْلَةٍ في الحَديقَةِ. يَتَحَدَّثانِ، يَضْحَكانِ، وَأَحْياناً يَبْكيانِ.
She began coming to him every night in the garden. They talked, laughed, and sometimes cried.
"قُلْ لي شَيْئاً لَمْ تَقُلْهُ لِأَحَدٍ،" طَلَبَتْ مِنْهُ ذاتَ لَيْلَةٍ.
"Tell me something you have never told anyone," she asked him one night.
"أُريدُ أَنْ أَكْتُبَ قَصيدَةً عَنْ جَسَدِ امْرَأَةٍ. لكِنَّني لَمْ أَعْرِفْ جَسَداً حَقيقِيّاً. كُلُّ ما كَتَبْتُهُ كانَ خَيالاً."
"I want to write a poem about a woman's body. But I have never known a real body. Everything I wrote was imagination."
ابْتَسَمَتْ ابْتِسامَةً غامِضَةً. "إذَنْ، دَعْني أَكونُ مُعَلِّمَتَكَ."
She smiled a mysterious smile. "Then let me be your teacher."
قامَتْ وَأَمْسَكَتْ يَدَهُ. قادَتْهُ إلى جَناحِها المَهْجورِ.
She stood and took his hand. She led him to her abandoned wing.
الفصل الخامس: القَصيدَةُ الأولى
Chapter Five: The First Poem
في غُرْفَتِها، أَشْعَلَتْ الشُّموعَ. ثُمَّ بَدَأَتْ تَخْلَعُ ثِيابَها.
In her room, she lit the candles. Then she began to remove her clothes.
"راقِبْني،" قالَتْ. "وَاكْتُبْ ما تَرى."
"Watch me," she said. "And write what you see."
سَقَطَ ثَوْبُها. ظَهَرَ جَسَدُها المُمْتَلِئُ في ضَوْءِ الشُّموعِ.
Her gown fell. Her full body appeared in the candlelight.
نَهْداها كَبيرانِ مُسْتَديرانِ كَقُبَبِ المَساجِدِ، حَلَمَتاهُما داكِنَتانِ كَحَبِّ التَّوتِ. بَطْنُها مُمْتَلِئَةٌ ناعِمَةٌ كَالوِسادَةِ، وَوِرْكاها عَريضَتانِ كَنَهْرِ دِجْلَةَ.
Her breasts were large and round like mosque domes, her nipples dark as berries. Her belly was full and soft as a pillow, and her hips wide as the Tigris River.
"جَسَدُكِ..." بَدَأَ عَمْرُو، صَوْتُهُ مُرْتَجِفٌ.
"Your body..." Amr began, his voice trembling.
"أَكْمِلْ. قُلْ ما في قَلْبِكَ."
"Continue. Say what is in your heart."
"جَسَدُكِ قَصيدَةٌ كَتَبَها اللهُ."
"Your body is a poem written by God."
الفصل السادس: الكِتابَةُ بِاللَّمْس
Chapter Six: Writing by Touch
"الآنَ،" قالَتْ نَرْجِسُ، "اِقْتَرِبْ. لا تَكْتَفِ بِالنَّظَرِ."
"Now," said Narjis, "come closer. Don't just look."
اقْتَرَبَ مِنْها. مَدَّ يَدَهُ وَلَمَسَ نَهْدَها. شَعَرَ بِدِفْئِها وَنُعومَتِها.
He approached her. He extended his hand and touched her breast. He felt its warmth and softness.
"صِفْ ما تَشْعُرُ بِهِ."
"Describe what you feel."
"كَأَنَّني أَلْمِسُ غَيْمَةً مِنْ حَريرٍ."
"As if I am touching a cloud of silk."
"أَكْمِلْ."
"Continue."
نَزَلَتْ يَدُهُ إلى بَطْنِها. "وَهذا كَوادٍ مِنَ القَمْحِ النّاضِجِ."
His hand descended to her belly. "And this is like a valley of ripe wheat."
"وَإذا نَزَلْتَ أَكْثَرَ؟"
"And if you go lower?"
لَمَسَ ما بَيْنَ فَخِذَيْها. وَجَدَها رَطْبَةً حارَّةً.
He touched what was between her thighs. He found her wet and hot.
"هذا يَنْبوعُ الحَياةِ."
"This is the spring of life."
"جَيِّدٌ. الآنَ اكْتُبْ بِشَفَتَيْكَ."
"Good. Now write with your lips."
الفصل السابع: القافِيَةُ الجَسَدِيَّة
Chapter Seven: The Physical Rhyme
قَبَّلَ جَسَدَها كُلَّهُ. فَمُهُ يَنْزِلُ مِنْ عُنُقِها إلى نَهْدَيْها إلى بَطْنِها.
He kissed her entire body. His mouth descended from her neck to her breasts to her belly.
"اسْتَمِرَّ!" أَمَرَتْهُ.
"Continue!" she commanded him.
وَصَلَ بَيْنَ فَخِذَيْها. لَحَسَ زَهْرَتَها بِلَهْفَةٍ.
He reached between her thighs. He licked her flower eagerly.
"يا إلهي!" صَرَخَتْ. "مِنْ أَيْنَ تَعَلَّمْتَ هذا؟!"
"My God!" she cried. "Where did you learn this?!"
"أَنا شاعِرٌ. أَتَعَلَّمُ بِسُرْعَةٍ."
"I am a poet. I learn quickly."
اسْتَمَرَّ يَلْعَقُها حَتّى وَصَلَتْ إلى ذُرْوَتِها. جَسَدُها الممْتَلِئُ يَرْتَجِفُ، وَصَوْتُها يَتَعالى.
He continued licking her until she reached her peak. Her full body trembled, and her voice rose.
"عَمْرُو! عَمْرُو!"
"Amr! Amr!"
الفصل الثامن: القَصيدَةُ الكامِلَة
Chapter Eight: The Complete Poem
"الآنَ،" قالَتْ بَعْدَ أَنْ هَدَأَتْ، "اِخْتِمِ القَصيدَةَ."
"Now," she said after she calmed, "conclude the poem."
خَلَعَ ثِيابَهُ. ذَكَرُهُ مُنْتَصِبٌ كَمِئْذَنَةٍ.
He removed his clothes. His member was erect like a minaret.
"اُدْخُلْني،" أَمَرَتْهُ. "اِجْعَلِ القَصيدَةَ واحِدَةً."
"Enter me," she commanded him. "Make the poem one."
دَخَلَها بِبُطْءٍ. حَرارَتُها تَلُفُّ ذَكَرَهُ.
He entered her slowly. Her heat wrapped around his member.
"أَعْمَقُ!" طَلَبَتْ.
"Deeper!" she demanded.
بَدَأَ يَتَحَرَّكُ. جَسَداهُما يَتَّحِدانِ كَبَيْتَيْنِ مِنَ الشِّعْرِ.
He began to move. Their bodies united like two verses of poetry.
"أَسْرَعُ! أَقْوى!"
"Faster! Harder!"
زادَ سُرْعَتَهُ. نَهْداها الكَبيرانِ يَهْتَزّانِ، وَبَطْنُها المُمْتَلِئَةُ تَتَمَوَّجُ.
He increased his speed. Her large breasts swayed, and her full belly undulated.
"أَنا قَريبٌ!" صَرَخَ.
"I am close!" he cried.
"مَعاً!"
"Together!"
وَصَلا إلى ذُرْوَتِهِما مَعاً، صارِخَيْنِ صَرْخَةً واحِدَةً.
They reached their peak together, crying out in one voice.
الخاتِمَة
Epilogue
في الصَّباحِ، جَلَسَ عَمْرُو وَكَتَبَ أَجْمَلَ قَصائِدِهِ. قَصيدَةً عَنْ نَرْجِسَ، عَنْ جَسَدِها، عَنْ لَيْلَتِهِما.
In the morning, Amr sat and wrote his most beautiful poem. A poem about Narjis, about her body, about their night.
قَدَّمَها لِلْخَليفَةِ. بَكى الخَليفَةُ مِنْ جَمالِها.
He presented it to the Caliph. The Caliph wept from its beauty.
"مَنْ هذِهِ المَرْأَةُ التي أَلْهَمَتْكَ؟"
"Who is this woman who inspired you?"
ابْتَسَمَ عَمْرُو. "مَوْلايَ، بَعْضُ الأَسْرارِ تَبْقى لِلشّاعِرِ وَحْدَهُ."
Amr smiled. "My lord, some secrets remain for the poet alone."
وَيُقالُ إنَّ عَمْرُو وَنَرْجِسَ اسْتَمَرّا يَلْتَقِيانِ كُلَّ لَيْلَةٍ، وَكُلُّ لَيْلَةٍ كانَتْ قَصيدَةً جَديدَةً.
And it is said that Amr and Narjis continued meeting every night, and every night was a new poem.
انْتَهَتِ القِصَّة | The End