“We are the pearl of the shoreless Ocean; sometimes we are the Wave
and sometimes the Sea;
We came into the world for this purpose, that we might show God
to His creatures.”

Busḥáq parodied this as follows:

“We are the dough-strings of the bowl of Wisdom; sometimes we are
the dough and sometimes the pie-crust;
We came into the kitchen for this purpose, that we might show the
fried meat to the pastry.”

When subsequently Sayyid Ni'matu'lláh met Abú Isḥáq, he said, “Are you the ‘dough-strings of the bowl of Wisdom’?” To which the latter replied, “Since I am not in a position to talk about God (Alláh), I talk about God's bounty (Ni'matu'lláh).”

Manuscripts of Abú Isḥáq's works are not common. The British Museum possesses a copy of one of them, the Kanzu'l-Ishtihá (“Treasure of Appetite”), * and I once had the opportunity of examining an excellent and very com- Dr Wolf's MS. of the Díwán-i-Aṭ'ima plete manuscript from the collection of the late Dr Wolf of Bukhárá fame, to whom it was given by a certain Ḥájji 'Uthmán Núru'd-Dín, and by whom it was left to the Society for the Propagation of Christianity amongst the Jews. This manuscript was copied in 970/1562-3, contains 162 ff. of 22.4 × 12.7 c. and 17 lines to the page, and is written in a small, neat ta'líq hand between blue and gold lines. It is remarkable for containing (on ff. 137-8 and 160-61) some half dozen poems in dialect, comprising in all 44 couplets. The book,

The Constantinople printed edition of the Díwán however, would have remained hardly known but for the excellent edition printed by the late learned and indefatigable Mírzá Ḥábíb of Iṣ-fahán at Constantinople in 1303/1885-6. This volume, which comprises 184 pages, begins with an extract from Dawlatsháh's notice of the author, and ends with a vocabulary of the culinary terms occurring in the course of the work, many of which are now obsolete in Persia, often representing dishes no longer prepared, of which the exact nature must in many cases remain doubtful. The actual text of Abú Isḥáq's works begins with the Kanzu'l-Ishtihá (“Treasure of Appetite”), to which is prefixed a short prose Preface. Then follow the poems, mostly parodies, in which almost every variety of verse (qaṣída, tarjí'-band, ghazal, qiṭ'a, rubá'í and mathnawí) is represented; and these in turn are followed by several treatises in mixed prose and verse, to wit “The Adventure of the Rice and the Pie-crust” (bughrá), “Abú Isḥáq's Dream,” the “Conclusion” (Khátima), and a “Glossary” (Farhang), by the author, not to be confounded with the vocabulary above mentioned, which was added by the Editor, who also supplements Dawlatsháh's account of the poet with a few observations of his own. In these he emphasizes the philological and lexicographical value of Abú Isḥáq's works, and adds that though they have been printed or lithographed several times in Persia, these editions are so marred by errors that they are almost valueless. He adds that he discovered two MSS. at Constantinople, and that, though both were defective, he succeeded from the two in constructing what he hopes and believes to be a fairly complete and trustworthy edition.

The poems, filled as they are with the strange and obsolete culinary terminology of mediaeval Persia, and deriving such humour as they possess from being parodies of more serious poems familiar to the author's contemporaries, do not lend themselves to translation. In the Preface to the “Treasure of Appetite” (Kanzu'l-Ishtihá) he claims to have written it to stimulate the failing appetite of a friend, just as Azraqí in earlier times wrote his Alfiyya Shalfiyya to quicken the sexual desires of his royal patron, Ṭughánsháh the Seljúq. * Here is a translation of this Preface, omitting the doxology:

“But to proceed. Thus saith the weakest of the servants of God the All-Provider, Abú Isḥáq, known as the Cotton-carder (Ḥalláj),

Busḥaq's Preface to the “Treasure of Appetite” may his comforts endure! At the time when the tree of youth was casting its shadow, and the branch of gladness was heavy with the fruit of hopes, a few verses, of an extemporized character and appropriate to every topic, were produced by me. I thought within myself, ‘The wisest course is this, that I should in such wise guide the steed of poetry through the arena of eloquence, and so spread the banquet of verse on the table of diction, that those who partake at the board of pleasure should obtain the most abundant helping; and that the masters of eloquence should be filled with admiration therefor, so that this may conduce to my greater fame and popularity.’ For I had heard this verse which says:

<text in Arabic script omitted>

‘Whatever verse I may utter, others have uttered it all,
And have penetrated all its domain and territory.’

“For some days my thoughts ran in this channel: ‘having regard to the epic narrative of Firdawsí, the salt of whose speech is the flavouring of the saucepan of every food; and the mathnawís of Niẓámí, the sugar of whose verses is the dainty morsel of sweet-tongued parrots; and the ṭayyibát of Sa'dí, which, by general accord, are like luscious honey to the palate of the congenial; and the odes of Khwája Jamálu'd-Dín Salmán, which take the place of milk and honey in the mouths of philologists; and the products of the genius of Khwájú of Kirmán, the carroway-syrup of whose utterances is a cure for the melancholics of the fetters of verse; and the subtle sayings of 'Imád-i-Faqíh, whose sweet utterances are as fragrant spices and delicious potions; and the fluent phraseology and well-weighed thoughts of Ḥáfiẓ, which are a wine fraught with no headache and a beverage delicious to the taste; and other poets, each of whom was the celebrity of some city and the marvel of some age, what fancies can I concoct whereby men can be made glad?’

“While I was thus meditating, on a favourable morning, when according to my wont and habit, the smoke of an unfeigned appetite rose up from the kitchen of the belly, there suddenly entered through the door my silver-bosomed sweetheart, my moon-faced darling, whose eyes are like almonds, whose lips are like sugar, whose chin is like an orange, whose breasts are like pomegranates, whose mouth is like a pistachio-nut, smooth-tongued, melodious of utterance, lithe as a fish, sweet-voiced, with a mole like musk; even as the poet says:

<text in Arabic script omitted>

‘By reason of the sweet smiles of the salt-cellar of her mouth *
Blood flows from the heart, as from a salted kabáb.’

“Said she, ‘I have quite lost my appetite, and suffer from a feeling of satiety; what is the remedy?’ I replied, ‘Just as in the case of that person who went to a physician, complaining that he was impotent, and the physician thereupon composed for him the [book entitled] Alfiyya Shalfiyya, * which when he had perused he at once took to his embraces a virgin girl, so will I compose for thee a treatise on the table, such that when thou hast once read it, thy appetite will return.’ So for her sake I girded up the loins of my soul, and cooked a meal garnished with verbal artifices and rhetorical devices, and baked in the oven of reflection with the dough of deliberation a loaf which rivalled the orb of the sun in its conquest of the world; so that I can proudly exclaim:

<text in Arabic script omitted>

‘I have spread a table of verse from Qáf to Qáf: *
Where is a fellow-trencherman who can rival me?’

“I have entitled this table ‘the Treasure of Appetite’ (Kanzu'l-Ishtihá ), because the day was the 'Idu'l-Fiṭr; * and the cause of the revelation of this book is commemorated in the following fragment.” * <text in Arabic script omitted> <text in Arabic script omitted>

The whole poem is divided into ten sections (faṣl), comprises 108 verses with the same rhyme throughout, and is a parody on Sa'dí's qaṣída beginning: * <text in Arabic script omitted>