[196] Mahabh. iii. 108, 109; Ramay. i. 42, 43; Marka??eya Pur. and other works. Heine's acquaintance was due undoubtedly to Schlegel's translation in Indische Bibliothek, 1820. (Aug. Schlegel, Werke, iii.

20-44.)

[197] See article on this subject by M. Schuyler, Jr., in JAOS. vol. xx.

2. p. 338 seq.

[198] Letter to Friedr. Steinmann, Sammtl. Werke, Hamb. 1876, vol. xix.

No. 7, p. 43.

[199] Ibid. No. 15, p. 80.

[200] Ibid. No. 38, pp. 200, 201.

[201] One poem of his earliest period, Die Lehre (vol. iii. p. 276), published in Hamburgs Wachter, 1817 (Strodtmann, op. cit. i. 54), does seem to show it. In this the young bee, heedless of motherly advice, does not beware of the candle-flame and so "Flamme gab Flammentod." We at once recognize a familiar Persian thought, and are reminded of Goethe's fine line, "Das Lebend'ge will ich preisen das nach Flammentod sich sehnet." (Selige Sehnsucht, ed. Loeper, iv. 26.)

[202] O.M. v. Schlechta-Wssehrd, Der Fruhlingsgarten von Mewlana Abdurrahman Dschami, Wien, 1846. Persian text, p. 38.

[203] For a discussion of the legend see Noldeke in Grdr. iran. Phil.

vol. ii. pp. 154, 155, 158.

CHAPTER X.

BODENSTEDT.

Lieder des Mirza Schaffy--Are Original Poems--Nachla.s.s--Aus Morgenland und Abendland--Sakuntala, a Narrative Poem.

The H_afi? 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 _Nachla.s.s_.[205]

According to the prevailing opinion, Mirza Schaffy was a great Persian poet, a rival of Sa?di and H_afi?, 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; n.o.body could tell him where a certain Mirza Schaffy lay buried. At last, in 1870, the Russian counsellor Adolph Berge gave an authentic account of the real man and his literary activity.[206] Two things were clearly established: first, that such a person as Mirza afi? had really existed; second, that this person was no poet. On this second point the few sc.r.a.ps of verse which Berge 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 _?azal_ being used only a few times (e.g. ii. 135, or in the translations from H_afi? in chap. 21: ii.

70=H_. 8; ii. 72=H_. 155, etc.) In spirit they are like H_afi?. "Mein Lehrer ist Hafis, mein Bethaus ist die Schenke," so Mirza Schaffy himself proclaims (i. p. 96), and images and ideas from H_afi?, 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?di (_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?ami which we had occasion to cite in the chapter on Ruckert (see p. 43). In one case a poem contains a Persian proverb. Mirza Schaffy criticises the opinions of the Shah's viziers in the words: "Ich h.o.r.e das Geklapper einer Muhle, doch sehe ich kein Mehl" (i, 85), a literal rendering of

Of course the _mullas_ and hypocrites in general are roundly scored, especially in chapter 27, where the sage, angered by the reproaches which the _mustahid_ 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 H_afi? was subject, culminating in the refusal of the priests to give him regular burial and giving rise to the famous story of the _fatva_.

The tavern and the praise of wine are, of course, bound to be prominent features. In the same _credo_ where Mirza Schaffy proclaims H_afi? 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 Xayyam (Bodl. ed. Heron-Allen, Boston, 1898, No. 78; Whinfield, 195); the last verse is based on a couplet of Sa?di (_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 Shiraz. This we get in vol. ii. p. 48, where Shiraz is compared to Tiflis; and just as the former was made famous through H_afi?, 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--

Beruhmt 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 Nachla.s.se Mirza Schaffy's_, and to emphasize the Persian character of these poems the Persian translation of the t.i.tle, ?? ????? ?????????

????? ????, appeared on the t.i.tle-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 _Gulistan_ 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, _ma?_. p. 89) and 36 (saying of the king in _Gul._ i. 1, p. 13). No. 31 is from the introduction to the _Hitopadesa_ (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 S_ufistic principle,[211] and "Der Wustenheilige," which enunciates through the lips of Zoroaster himself his doctrine that good actions are worth more than ascetic practices.[212] On p. 121 Ibn Yamin is credited with the story of the poet and the glow-worm, which is found in Sa?di's _Bustan_ (ed. Platts and Rogers, Lond. 1891, p. 127; tr. Barbier de Meynard, Paris, 1880, p.

163). The famous story of Yusuf and Zali?a, as related by Jami and Firdausi, 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?di'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, ent.i.tled _Aus Morgenland und Abendland_, made its appearance. Like the _Nachla.s.s_ 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 Ruckert's "Die Kerze und die Flasche," see above, p. 43). The last line reminds us of a verse of Jurjani, cited by Jami in the _Baharistan_ (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 _Gulistan_ is best represented. From it are taken Nos. 8 (_Gul._ ii. 4, last couplet), 9 (ibid. i. 1), 41 (ibid. i. 21, prose-pa.s.sage before the _ma?_. 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 Yamin, is from the _Baharistan_ (tr. K.S. p. 46; _Red._ p. 338).

No. 49 is a very free rendering of a quatrain of ?Umar Xayyam (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 _Gulistan_ are "Die Berichtigung"

(_Gul._ i. 31; K.S., p. 67) and "Der Konigsring" (_Gul._ iii. 27, last part, p. 92; K.S. p. 157). "Nachtigall und Falk" is from Ni?ami, as was pointed out before (see above, p. 43). "Das Paradies der Glaubigen" is from Jami (_Red._ p. 324; given there as from the _Sub?at ul-abrar_) and "Ein Bild der Welt" is from Ibn Yamin (_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 Jamid, told by Mir?vand in his _Rau?at u_s-_safa_.[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 Rumi, Sa?di, Amir Mu?izzi and Anvari, who, oddly enough, are termed "Vorlaufer des Mirza Schaffy." The source for most of these poems was evidently Hammer's _Geschichte der schonen Redekunste Persiens_. To realize with what freedom Bodenstedt has treated his models, it is only necessary to compare some of the poems from Rumi 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 Jami, is likewise from Rumi (_Red._ p.

181; cf. Ruckert, _Werke_, vol. v. p. 220). The poems from Sa?di can mostly be traced to the _Gulistan_; 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 Luqman are added; no. 2 is from _Gul._ iii. 10, couplet (p. 76; K.S. p. 129); no. 3 is _Gul._ iii. 27, _ma?_. (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, _ma?_. The poem "Heimat und Fremde" is taken from Amir Mu?izzi,[218] the court-poet of Malak Shah, who in turn took it from Anvari. It is cited in the _Haft Qulzum_ to ill.u.s.trate a kind of poetic theft.[219] "Unterschied" is from Jami (_Red._ p. 315, given as from _Sub?at ul-abrar_), "Warum" from Ibn Yamin (_Red._ p. 235); "Die Sterne" and "Die Zeit" are both from Anvari (_Red._ pp. 98, 99).

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 Kalidasa's famous drama, but the version in the _Mahabharata_ 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 Kalidasa; they certainly often destroy or obliterate characteristic Indic features. Thus in the drama the failure of the king to recognize Sakuntala is the result of a curse p.r.o.nounced against the girl by the irascible saint Durvasas, 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]

There are, besides, many minor changes. The _vidu?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 Kasyapa on the Hemaku?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 pa.s.sage 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 Sakuntala with her friends (pp. 37, 38), the incident of the bee and Priyamvada's playful remark (pp. 38-40) are closely modelled after the fourth scene of Act 1. Many pa.s.sages of the poem are in fact nothing but translations. Thus the words which the king on leaving, writes to Sakuntala (p. 78):

Doch mein Herz wird stets zuruckbewegt, Wie die wehende Fahne an der Stange, Die man vollem Wind entgegentragt--

are a pretty close rendering of the final words of the king's soliloquy at the end of Act 1:

_gacchati pura? sarira? dhavati pascad asa?stuta? ceta? cina?sukam iva keto? prativatam niyamanasya_

"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 role in that canto.