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第78部分(第3页)

and  toadied  up  to  Shah  Ismail  after  the  king  took  Herat。  In  response;  Shah

Ismail personally went all the way to his house on the outskirts of the city to

see him。 We know this is Hatifi; not from Bihzad’s rendering of Hatifi’s face;

but from the writing beneath the illustration; don’t we?”

Black looked at me; indicating “yes” with his pretty eyes。 “When we look at

the face of the poet in the painting;” I said; “we see that it could be a face like

any other face。 If Abdullah Hatifi were here; God rest his soul; we could never

hope to recognize him from the face in this picture。 However; we could do so

relying on the illustration in its entirety: There’s something in the manner of

the position; in Hatifi’s pose; in the colors; the gilding and the stunning

hand rendered by Master Bihzad that at once indicates the picture is of a poet。

Meaning  precedes  form  in  the  world  of  our  art。  As  we  begin  to  paint  in

imitation of the Frankish and Veian masters; as in the book that Our Sultan

had missioned from your Enishte; the domain of meaning ends and the

domain of form begins。 However; with the Veian methods…”

“My  Enishte;  may  he  rest  in  eternal  peace;  was  murdered;”  Black  said

rudely。

I  caressed  Black’s  hand;  which  rested  within  my  own;  as  if  respectfully

stroking  the  tiny  hand  of  a  young  apprentice  who  might  one  day  indeed

illustrate   masterpieces。   Quietly   and   reverently   we   looked   at   Bihzad’s

masterpiece for a time。 Later; Black withdrew his hand from mine。

“We passed quickly over the chestnut horses on the previous page without

examining their noses;” he said。

“There’s nothing to them;” I said; and turned back to the previous page so

he might see for himself: There was nothing extraordinary about the nostrils of

the horses。

344

“When  shall  we  find  the  horses  with  peculiar  noses?”  Black  asked  like  a

child。

But;  in  the  middle  of  the  night;  toward  morning;  when  we  found  Shah

Tahmasp’s  legendary  Book  of  Kings  in  an  iron  chest  beneath  piles  of  various

shades of green watered silk and drew it forth; Black was curled up fast asleep

on  a  red  Ushak  carpet;  with  his  well…formed  head  lying  on  a  velvet  pillow

embroidered with pearls。 Meanwhile; as soon as I laid eyes upon the legendary

tome  again  after  so  many  years;  I  quickly  understood  that  the  day  had  only

just begun for me。

The legendary volume I’d seen only from afar twenty…five years ago was so

large  and  heavy  that  Jezmi  Agha  and  I  had  difficulty  lifting  and  carrying  it。

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