I finally finished the nightmare producing, hair yanking out ordeal of formatting my book to print for the book club to read. And I ordered it! Yes! I'll let you know how it all went after the book-club-ians discuss my book in their March meeting.
And now, I have a Pronouncement to make. Not an Announcement, mind you. That wouldn't be formal enough — a little too levitous, if you please.
So without further ado, I give you my Pronouncement—
TODAY, I SHALL BE SERIOUS.
As of this very moment, I have a contemplative look on my face, one of deep earnestness. So, thusly attired, I deliver my ponderings and experiences.
A fortnight ago, I stumbled upon a rare find for sale, a jewel in my realm of living. 'Twas a set of fifteen books from 1901, titled:
THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT:
Now first completely done into English prose and verse,
from the original arabic, by JOHN PAYNE
Gold leafed, Published in London, Limited to Five Hundred Copies— of which mine was No. 349.
I HAD to have it! To my profound delight, it hadn't been sold and I scooped them up with lightning euphoria. Happiness! HAPPINESS!! HAPPINESS!!!
Oh my. Seriousness, remember, seriousness. Ahem.
So I peeked in one of the books to launch my treasure hunt, found a good spot in the middle of volume III, cozied up in a blanket, and began reading the tale of
KEMEREZZEMAN AND BUDOUR.
The story goes that the king of the Khalidan Islands had scores of daughters and no sons. Fretting over the lack of an heir, he prayed "a two-bow prayer with a believing heart" And gladness! — he was blessed with a son! A son! — did you hear that?
And oh, what a splendid son! He'd been "clad in the habit of beauty and crowned with the crown of perfection."
Behold! A picture of him with an angel who "abode awhile,
astounded at his beauty and grace."
Ah, the description of him that follows!—you've GOT to read this for yourself.
Oh no. I can't do it. I'm starting to laugh at the mere thought of it.
I'm so sorry. I rescind my Pronouncement—all seriousness is off.
Just start reading along this passage and you'll hit the part where you'll understand why I can't keep my oath. You just see if YOU can be serious—
|SOMETHING IN ARABIC PRINTED ALL BY ITS LONESOME ON A PAGE |
BEFORE THE STORIES ALL BEGIN. WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE IT MEANS?