Before my usual Sunday afternoon historic post, I am going to read to you from the translation of the 1,001 Arabian Nights as written by Sir Richard Francis Burton, the intrepid 19th century British adventurer who is most famous as the discoverer of the source of the Nile river in conjunction with John Hanning Speke. This extract is taken from the tale Maaruf the Cobbler and his wife Fatimah which is a cheery story of a destitute shoemaker who escapes a shrewish spouse with the aid of a genie not voiced by the late Robin Williams, and ends up by various twists and trickery, marrying a princess in a far-off land. We read from the section focusing on the matrimonial night of protagonist Maaruf and the princess which is punctuated by Sharazad (the storyteller of the Nights as you may know who postponed her maniac royal husbands execution of his brides by telling stories) as follows: So he arose and putting off his clothes sat down on the bed and sought love-liesse and they fell to toying with each other. He laid his hand on her knee and she sat down in his lap and thrust her lip like a tit-bit of meat into his mouth, and that hour was such as maketh a man to forget his father and his mother. So he clasped her in his arms and strained her fast to his breast and sucked her lip, till the honey-dew ran out into his mouth; and he laid his hand under her left-armpit, whereupon his vitals and her vitals yearned for coition. Then he clapped her between the breasts and his hand slipped down between her thighs and she girded him with her legs, whereupon he made of the two parts proof amain and crying out, “O sire of the chin-veils twain” applied the priming and kindled the match and set it to the touch-hole and gave fire and breached the citadel in its four corners; so there befel the mystery concerning which there is no enquiry: and she cried the cry that needs must be cried.--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say. She resumed, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that while the Princess Dunyá cried the cry which must be cried, Merchant Ma’aruf abated her maidenhead and that night was one not to be counted among lives for that which it comprised of the enjoyment of the fair, clipping and dallying langue fourrée and futtering till the dawn of day, when he arose and entered the Hammam whence, after donning a suit for sovrans suitable he betook himself to the King’s Divan. AND ALLYUH TORT 50 SHADES OF GREY WAS RAUNCHY AND RISQUE......50 shades 13th century Arabian Style
Posted on: Sun, 17 Aug 2014 18:38:59 +0000
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