Deprived of the mind of love
Sometimes, in the centuries, the poet’s biography is lost – but books remain. It happened with Homer and Nizami, Confucius and Vione. Sometimes, on the contrary: books disappear, but life remains – an amazing story, in itself – like a poem, eternal and daily, close to everyone who lives on Earth, regardless of who he reads on this Earth. This happened to Kais al-Mulavah, an Arab poet, whose lines were swallowed by Eternity, whose life was preserved by other people’s poetry.
Actually it was like this: Kais fell in love with Leili, Laili fell in love with Kais. The young poet, happy with his feelings, sang a beauty in heartfelt verses, from which the eyes of listeners were filled with tears of joy, so beautiful and pure was the feeling of Kais. However, the girl’s father was hard-hearted to the verses, moreover: a young loafer who knew nothing but rhyme for “eyes” and “turquoise” seemed to him the greatest danger, swirling
Therefore, as soon as Leila began to be considered a girl for marriage, she was immediately married to a rich relative from a remote village. Her husband took the beauty to distant lands, and unfortunate inconsolable Kais left the house and went into the desert. Residents often saw him, ragged, hungry, with a feverish look and sharp movements, he wandered around the village, muttering poems about Leili under his nose, or sitting on the sand under the scorching sun, writing out hot lines right on the barkhans. Soon the terrible news came: Laili died. A few days later, the unfortunate and crazy Kais died.
Talking about the poet, whose poems slowly, but inevitably washed the wind from the barkhans, people called him so: deprived of the mind of love, Majnun.
And in the books it was like this: Leyli and Majnun lived next door and were imbued with tender feelings back in childhood. People admired the beautiful couple, they predicted a long happy life surrounded by healthy and beautiful children. But Leili’s father was the enemy of Kais’s father, and the love of children
About unfortunate lovers who just did not write: Fizuli, Navoi, Jami, and Nejati, and how much they drew, sculpted, cut out of marble and even laid out with mosaics at metro stations…
So the power of the dead love gave life to great poetry.
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