Arabian Nights Page #5

Come on!

Higher!

I'll massage your calves, no more.

You refuse my orders? Beware!

You must do as I say, boy.

I want you as my lover.

To reward you, I may make you an Emir.

- What must I do?

- Lie on the bed.

I've never done it before.

Take back your presents, let me leave.

Obey me. Lie on the bed,

or I'll have you beheaded.

Turn over.

Pull your trousers down.

Come, quick!

Don't hurt me too much.

Do you like love poems?

Don't look at me. Listen.

The down of a first beard

as the poet writes it.

Two twigs of myrtle

on a young man's cheeks.

The sun and moon

are astonished when he appears.

What shame for the myrtle

when the youth unbends.

Alright.

Another poem. Don't look at me!

I told a young man of my desires.

"Stop offending me!" he said.

But when I showed him a dinar,

the handsome young man said:

"If my destiny is to be mounted by you,

I can't escape it."

And do you know this other one?

Don't look at me!

My love is great,

and the young man said to me:

"Take with strength

everything that you desire!"

Won't it stand?

Not unless you touch it.

Go on, touch it!

You have to obey me.

Go on!

You're made like a woman.

Now mine is standing!

My love,

don't you recognise your slave?

Zumurrud, my love!

I know a poem, too.

What a night!

God has made no other like this.

Its beginning was bitter,

but how sweet is its end.

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