BODENSTEDT.
Lieder des Mirza Schaffy--Are Original Poems--Nachlass--Aus
Morgenland und Abendland--Sakuntala, a Narrative Poem.
The H̱āfiḍ 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 Saʻdī and H̱āfiḍ, 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 Šafīʻ 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 H̱āfiḍ in chap. 21: ii.
70=H̱. 8; ii. 72=H̱. 155, etc.) In spirit they are like H̱āfiḍ. "Mein
Lehrer ist Hafis, mein Bethaus ist die Schenke," so Mirza Schaffy
himself proclaims (i. p. 96), and images and ideas from H̱āfiḍ, 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 Saʻdī (_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 Niḍāmī 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 höre das Geklapper
einer Mühle, doch sehe ich kein Mehl" (i, 85), a literal rendering of
آواز آسيا می شنوم وآرد نمی بينم
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 H̱āfiḍ 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 H̱āfiḍ 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. H̱. 213. 4). The well known poem "Aus dem
Feuerquell des Weines" (i. p. 106) is in sentiment exactly like a
quatrain of ʻUmar Xayyām (Bodl. ed. Heron-Allen, Boston, 1898, No. 78;
Whinfield, 195); the last verse is based on a couplet of Saʻdī (_Gul._
i. 4, last _qiṭʻah_, 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
H̱āfiḍ, 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, از اشرار بازماندهً
ميرزا شفيع, 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 _qiṭʻah_), 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 _Hitōpadēśa_ (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 S̱ūfistic 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 Saʻdī'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 Saʻdī'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. H̱. 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 ʻUmar 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 Königsring" (_Gul._ iii. 27, last
part, p. 92; K.S. p. 157). "Nachtigall und Falk" is from Niḍāmī, as was
pointed out before (see above, p. 43). "Das Paradies der Gläubigen" is
from Jāmī (_Red._ p. 324; given there as from the _Subẖat 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 Jamšīd, told by Mīrχvānd in his _Rauḍat
u̱s-̱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,
Saʻdī, Amīr Muʻizzī and Anvarī, who, oddly enough, are termed "Vorläufer
des Mirza Schaffy." The source for most of these poems was evidently
Hammer's _Geschichte der schönen 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 Saʻdī 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, _qiṭʻah_ 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,
_qiṭʻah_ (p. 91; K.S., p. 154) and no. 5 is _Gul._ i. 39, _maθ_. The
poem "Heimat und Fremde" is taken from Amīr Muʻizzī,[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 _Subẖat ul-abrār_), "Warum" from Ibn
Yamīn (_Red._ p. 235); "Die Sterne" and "Die Zeit" are both from Anvarī
(_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
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 Śakuntalā 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]
* * * * *
There are, besides, many minor changes. The _vidūṣaka_, 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. Duṣyanta 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 Kaśyapa on the
Hēmakūṭa 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
Śakuntalā 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
Śakuntalā (p. 78):
Doch mein Herz wird stets zurückbewegt,
Wie die wehende Fahne an der Stange,
Die man vollem Wind entgegenträgt--
are a pretty close rendering of the final words of the king's soliloquy
at the end of Act 1:
_gacchati puraḥ śarīraṃ dhāvati paścād asaṃstutaṃ cētaḥ cīnāṃśukam
iva kētōḥ 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 rôle 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 S̱ūfism 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 Saʻdī's life, drawn from his own writings as
well as other sources, is given by W. Bacher, Saʻdī'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 Chajjâm, 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.