Lieder des Mirza Schaffy-Are Original Poems-Nachlass-Aus Morgenland und Abendland-Sakuntala, a Narrative Poem.
The Hāfi? tendency was carried to the height of popularity by Friedrich Martin Bodenstedt, whose Lieder des Mirza Schaffy met with a phenomenal success, running through one hundred and forty editions in Germany alone during the lifetime of the author, besides being translated into many foreign languages.204 These songs have had a remarkable career, which the author himself relates in an essay appended to the Nachlass.205
According to the prevailing opinion, Mirza Schaffy was a great Persian poet, a rival of Sa?dī and Hāfi?, and Bodenstedt was the translator of his songs. Great, therefore, was the astonishment of the European, and particularly the German public, when it was discovered that the name of this famous poet was utterly unknown in the East, even in his own native land. As early as 1860, Professor Brugsch, when in Tiflis, had searched for the singer's grave, but in vain; nobody could tell him where a certain Mirza Schaffy lay buried. At last, in 1870, the Russian counsellor Adolph Bergé gave an authentic account of the real man and his literary activity.206 Two things were clearly established: first, that such a person as Mīrzā ?afī? had really existed; second, that this person was no poet. On this second point the few scraps of verse which Bergé had been able to collect, and which he submitted in the essay cited above, leave absolutely no doubt. So, in 1874, when Bodenstedt published another poetic collection of Mirza Schaffy, he appended an essay wherein he explained clearly the origin and the nature of the original collection bearing that name.
According to his own statements, these poems are not translations. They are entirely his own,207 and were originally not an independent collection, but part of the biographical romance Tausend und ein Tag im Orient.208 This should be kept in mind if we wish to estimate them at their true value.
Nevertheless the poems are genuinely Oriental and owe their existence to the author's stay in the East, particularly in Tiflis, during the winter 1843-44. But for this residence in the Orient, so Bodenstedt tells us,209 a large part of them would never have seen the light.
In form, however, they are Occidental-the γazal being used only a few times (e.g. ii. 135, or in the translations from Hāfi? in chap. 21: ii. 70=H. 8; ii. 72=H. 155, etc.) In spirit they are like Hāfi?. "Mein Lehrer ist Hafis, mein Bethaus ist die Schenke," so Mirza Schaffy himself proclaims (i. p. 96), and images and ideas from Hāfi?, familiar to us from preceding chapters, meet us everywhere. The stature like a cypress, the nightingale and the rose, the verses like pearls on a string, and others could be cited as instances. Other authors are also laid under contribution; thus the comparison of Mirza Schaffy to a bee seems to have been suggested by a maxim of Sa?dī (Gul. viii. No. 77, ed. Platts; K.S. p. 268), where a wise man without practice is called a bee without honey, and the thought in the last verse of "Die Rose auch" (vol. ii. p. 85), that the rose cannot do without dirt and the nightingale feeds on worms, is a reminiscence of a story of Ni?āmī which we had occasion to cite in the chapter on Rückert (see p. 43). In one case a poem contains a Persian proverb. Mirza Schaffy criticises the opinions of the Shāh's viziers in the words: "Ich h?re das Geklapper einer Mühle, doch sehe ich kein Mehl" (i, 85), a literal rendering of
???? ???? ?? ???? ???? ??? ????
Of course the mullās and hypocrites in general are roundly scored, especially in chapter 27, where the sage, angered by the reproaches which the mustahīd has made to him for his bad conduct and irreligious poetry, gives vent to his sentiments of disgust in a number of poems (vol. ii. p. 137 seq.). Bodenstedt undoubtedly had in mind the persecutions to which Hāfi? was subject, culminating in the refusal of the priests to give him regular burial and giving rise to the famous story of the fatvā.
The tavern and the praise of wine are, of course, bound to be prominent features. In the same credo where Mirza Schaffy proclaims Hāfi? as his teacher he also proclaims the tavern as his house of prayer (i. p. 96), and so he celebrates the day when he quit the mosque for the wine-house (i. p. 98; cf. H. 213. 4). The well known poem "Aus dem Feuerquell des Weines" (i. p. 106) is in sentiment exactly like a quatrain of ?Umar Xayyām (Bodl. ed. Heron-Allen, Boston, 1898, No. 78; Whinfield, 195); the last verse is based on a couplet of Sa?dī (Gul. i. 4, last qi??ah, Platts, p. 18) which is cited immediately after the poem itself (i. p. 107).
A collection of Hafizian songs would scarcely be complete without a song in praise of Shīrāz. This we get in vol. ii. p. 48, where Shīrāz is compared to Tiflis; and just as the former was made famous through Hāfi?, so the latter will become famous through Mirza Schaffy. Little did the worthy sage of Ganja dream that this would come literally true. Yet it did. The closing lines of the poem-
Berühmt ist Tiflis durch dein Lied
Vom Kyros bis zum Rhein geworden-
are no empty boast; they simply express a fact.
None of Bodenstedt's later poetic publications ever attained the success of the Mirza Schaffy songs, and, it may be added, none of them equalled those songs in merit. In 1874 the author resolved once more to try the magic of that name and so he launched forth a collection called Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffy's, and to emphasize the Persian character of these poems the Persian translation of the title, ?? ????? ????????? ????? ????, appeared on the title-page. In spite of all this, however, the Orientalism in these poems is more artificial than natural; it is not felt as something essential without which the poems could not exist. The praise of wine, which is the main theme of the second book,-for the collection is divided into seven books,-is certainly not characteristically Persian; European, and especially German poets have also been very liberal and very proficient in bibulous verse. The maxims that make up the third and a portion of the fourth book are for the most part either plainly unoriental, or else so perfectly general, and, we may add, so hopelessly commonplace, as to fit in anywhere. Some, however, are drawn from Persian sources. Thus from the Gulistān we have in the third book, Nos. 8 (Gul. Pref. p. 7, last qi??ah), 9 (ibid. p. 6, first three couplets), 12 (ibid. iii. 27, maθ. p. 89) and 36 (saying of the king in Gul. i. 1, p. 13). No. 31 is from the introduction to the Hitōpadē?a (third couplet).210 "Die Cypresse," p. 103, is suggested by Gul. viii. 111 (K.S. 81).
The Oriental stories which form the contents of the fifth book are of small literary value. Some of them read like versified lessons in Eastern religion, as, for instance, "Der Sufi," p. 111, which is a rhymed exposition of a Sūfistic principle,211 and "Der Wüstenheilige," which enunciates through the lips of Zoroaster himself his doctrine that good actions are worth more than ascetic practices.212 On p. 121 Ibn Yamīn is credited with the story of the poet and the glow-worm, which is found in Sa?dī's Būstān (ed. Platts and Rogers, Lond. 1891, p. 127; tr. Barbier de Meynard, Paris, 1880, p. 163). The famous story of Yūsuf and Zalīχā, as related by Jāmī and Firdausī, is the subject of the longest poem in the book and is told in a somewhat flippant manner, p. 135 seq. The stories told of Sa?dī's reception at court and his subsequent banishment through the calumny of the courtiers, pp. 123-128, seem to be pure invention; at least there is nothing, as far as we know, in the life or writings of the Persian poet that could have furnished the material for these poems.213
In 1882, still another collection of Bodenstedt's poems, entitled Aus Morgenland und Abendland, made its appearance. Like the Nachlass it also has seven divisions, of which only the second, fourth and sixth are of interest for us as containing Oriental material.214
One poem, however, in the first book, "An eine Kerze," p. 5, should be mentioned as of genuinely Persian character. The candle as symbolical of the patient, self-sacrificing lover is a familiar feature of Persian belles-lettres (cf. H. 299. 4; 301. 5; or Rückert's "Die Kerze und die Flasche," see above, p. 43). The last line reminds us of a verse of Jurjānī, cited by Jāmī in the Bahāristān (ed. Schlechta-Wssehrd, p. 111), exhorting the ruler to be like a flame, always pointing upwards.
The second book brings another contribution of sententious wisdom, most of which is neither new nor Oriental. Of Oriental sources the Gulistān is best represented. From it are taken Nos. 8 (Gul. ii. 4, last couplet), 9 (ibid. i. 1), 41 (ibid. i. 21, prose-passage before the maθ. p. 33; K.S. p. 55), 43 (ibid. i. 17, coupl. 4, p. 29; K.S. p. 49), 52 (ibid. i. 29, coupl. 2; K.S. p. 66). No. 47, which is credited to Ibn Yamīn, is from the Bahāristān (tr. K.S. p. 46; Red. p. 338). No. 49 is a very free rendering of a quatrain of ?Umar Xayyām (Whinf. 347; Red. p. 81).215
The fourth book offers stories, all of which, except the first two, are from Persian sources. Thus from the Gulistān are "Die Berichtigung" (Gul. i. 31; K.S., p. 67) and "Der K?nigsring" (Gul. iii. 27, last part, p. 92; K.S. p. 157). "Nachtigall und Falk" is from Ni?āmī, as was pointed out before (see above, p. 43). "Das Paradies der Gl?ubigen" is from Jāmī (Red. p. 324; given there as from the Sub?at ul-abrār) and "Ein Bild der Welt" is from Ibn Yamīn (Red. p. 236).216 The longest story of the book is "Dara und Sara," which gives the legend of the discovery of wine by King Jam?īd, told by Mīrχvānd in his Rau?at us-safā.217 Besides changing the name of the king to Dara, in order to make the poem more romantic, we find that Bodenstedt has made some decided alterations and has considerably amplified the legend. Thus in his version the motive of the lady's attempt at suicide is despised love, while in the original it is only a prosaic nervous headache. In both cases, however, the sequel is the same.
Finally, the sixth book offers very free paraphrases of poems by Rūmī, Sa?dī, Amīr Mu?izzī and Anvarī, who, oddly enough, are termed "Vorl?ufer des Mirza Schaffy." The source for most of these poems was evidently Hammer's Geschichte der sch?nen Redekünste Persiens. To realize with what freedom Bodenstedt has treated his models, it is only necessary to compare some of the poems from Rūmī with Hammer's versions, e.g. "Glaube und Unglaube" (Red. p. 175), "Der Mensch und die Welt" (ibid. p. 180), "Des Lebens Kreislauf" (ibid. p. 178), "Wach' auf" (ibid. p. 181). "Die Pilger," p. 188, attributed to Jāmī, is likewise from Rūmī (Red. p. 181; cf. Rückert, Werke, vol. v. p. 220). The poems from Sa?dī can mostly be traced to the Gulistān; they are so freely rendered that they have little in common with the originals except the thought. No. 1 is Gul. ii. 18, qi??ah 1, to which the words of Luqmān are added; no. 2 is from Gul. iii. 10, couplet (p. 76; K.S. p. 129); no. 3 is Gul. iii. 27, maθ. (p. 89; K.S., p. 151); no. 4 is Gul. iii. 27, qi??ah (p. 91; K.S., p. 154) and no. 5 is Gul. i. 39, maθ. The poem "Heimat und Fremde" is taken from Amīr Mu?izzī,218 the court-poet of Malak Shāh, who in turn took it from Anvarī. It is cited in the Haft Qulzum to illustrate a kind of poetic theft.219 "Unterschied" is from Jāmī (Red. p. 315, given as from Sub?at ul-abrār), "Warum" from Ibn Yamīn (Red. p. 235); "Die Sterne" and "Die Zeit" are both from Anvarī (Red. pp. 98, 99).
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So far, Bodenstedt had taken the material for his Oriental poems from Persia, but now he turned to India and in 1887 appeared Sakuntala, a romantic epic in five cantos. In the main it follows the story of Kālidāsa's famous drama, but the version in the Mahābharāta is also used, and a considerable number of episodes are invented. Even where the account of the drama is followed, changes of a more or less sweeping nature are frequent. We cannot say that they strike us as so many improvements on Kālidāsa; they certainly often destroy or obliterate characteristic Indic features. Thus in the drama the failure of the king to recognize ?akuntalā is the result of a curse pronounced against the girl by the irascible saint Durvāsas, whom she has inadvertently failed to treat with due respect, and the ring is merely a means of breaking the spell. All this is highly characteristic of Hindu thought. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, remembering and forgetting are dependent on a magic quality inherent in the ring itself,-a trait that is at home in almost any literature.220
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There are, besides, many minor changes. The vidū?aka, or fun-making attendant of the king, is left out, and so the warriors express the sentiments that he utters at the beginning of Act 2. Du?yanta does not bid farewell to his beloved in person, but leaves a letter. Again, after he has failed to recognize her, she returns to the hermitage of Kanva, whereas in the drama she is transported to that of Ka?yapa on the Hēmakū?a mountain. So, of course, the aerial ride of the king in Indra's wagon is also done away with.
In many places, on the other hand, the poem follows the drama very closely. For instance, the passage in the first canto describing the mad elephant (pp. 14, 15)221 is a paraphrase of the warning uttered by one of the holy men in Act 1. Sc. 4 (ed. Kale, p. 40). The discourse of ?akuntalā with her friends (pp. 37, 38), the incident of the bee and Priyamvadā's playful remark (pp. 38-40) are closely modelled after the fourth scene of Act 1. Many passages of the poem are in fact nothing but translations. Thus the words which the king on leaving, writes to ?akuntalā (p. 78):
Doch mein Herz wird stets zurückbewegt,
Wie die wehende Fahne an der Stange,
Die man vollem Wind entgegentr?gt-
are a pretty close rendering of the final words of the king's soliloquy at the end of Act 1:
gacchati pura? ?arīra? dhāvati pa?cād asa?stuta? cēta? cīnā??ukam
iva kētō? prativātam nīyamānasya
"my body goes forward; the mind not agreeing with it flies backward like the silken streamer of a banner borne against the wind."
A large part of the whole poem is pure invention, designed to make the story more exciting by means of a greater variety of incident. Such invented episodes, for instance, are the gory battle-scenes that take up the first part of the fourth canto, the omen of the fishes in the fifth, and the episodes in which Bharata plays the chief r?le in that canto. Some of the things told of this boy, how he knocks down the gate-keeper who refuses to admit his mother, how he strikes the queen Vasumatī who had insulted her, and how he slays the assassin whom this jealous queen had sent against him, are truly remarkable in view of the fact that the hero of all these exploits cannot be more than six years of age (see pp. 112, 113). The account in the Mahābhārata, to be sure, tells of equally fabulous exploits performed by the youth, but there we move in an atmosphere of the marvelous. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, the supernatural has been almost completely banished, and we cannot help noticing the improbability of these deeds.
FOOTNOTES:
204 Hebrew by Jos. Choczner, Breslau, 1868; Dutch by van Krieken, Amst. 1875; English by E. d'Esterre, Hamb. 1880; Italian by Giuseppe Rossi, 1884; Polish by Dzialoszye, Warsaw, 1888. See list in G. Schenk, Friedr. Bodenstedt, Ein Dichterleben in seinen Briefen, Berl. 1893, pp. 246-248.
205 Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffys, Berl. 1874, pp. 191-223.
206 In ZDMG. vol. xxiv. pp. 425-432.
207 With few exceptions, pointed out by Bodenstedt himself, e.g. "Mullah rein ist der Wein" is from the Tartaric. Nachlass, p. 208.
208 Friedr. Bodenstedts Gesammelte Schriften, Berlin, 1865, 12 vols. Vols. i and ii. All references to the Lieder des M.S. are to this edition.
209 Nachlass, p. 193.
210 Or else a saying of Muhammad exactly like it, cited by Prof. Brugsch in Aus dem Morgenlande, Lpz. Recl. Univ. Bibl. 3151-2, p. 57.
211 Cf. Bodenstedt's remarks on Sūfism in Nachtrag, p. 198 seq.
212 See my article on Religion of Ancient Persia in Progress, vol. iii. No. 5, p. 290.
213 A complete history of Sa?dī's life, drawn from his own writings as well as other sources, is given by W. Bacher, Sa?dī's Aphorismen und Sinngedichte, Strassb. 1879. On the relation of the poet to the rulers of his time, see esp. p. xxxv seq.
214 We cite from the third edition, 1887.
215 Translated more closely by Bodenstedt in Die Lieder und Sprüche des Omar Chajjam, Breslau, 1881, p. 29.
216 Schlechta-Wssehrd, Ibn Jemins Bruchstücke. Wien, 1852, pp. 138, 139.
217 Tr. David Shea, Hist. of the Early Kings of Persia, Lond. 1832, pp. 102-104; Malcolm. i. p. 10, note b.
218 Ethé in Grdr. iran. Phil. ii. p. 260; Pizzi, Storia, vol. i. pp. 88, 215.
219 Rückert, Gram. Poet. u. Rhet. der Perser, p. 363.
220 Cf. the story of Charlemagne and the magic stone given to him by a grateful serpent. Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, 1. 130.
221 We cite from an edition publ. at Leipzig, no date.
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