Scheherazade, tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane.
That means it’s noon, that means we’re inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it...
Poem By Richard Siken
One needn't be aware of the history behind the legend of Scheherazade to appreciate the beauty of Richard Siken's poem, however, since I'm a lover of mythology and fairytales, I thought this week I'd share her story as I find it utterly beguiling...
I believe that it is through the expression of art, literature, film, and music, that we begin to evolve spiritually with a deeper awareness bestowed upon us for that which isn't necessarily tangible, yet the visceral feeling we derive from such creative sources makes us believe in it nonetheless. Absolute proof is nullified when one begins to feel absolutely.
As a result, the allegorical nature of these imaginative stories and creations provide a refuge from reality, and in so doing, we're better able to comprehend such truths regarding life and all the beautiful complexities encapsulated within it and beyond...
Below you'll find a basic plot synopsis. As well, for the next two pages, I decided to integrate some of my favorite, unrelated quotes, by which I was able to thread together my own version of her story in hopes of not only conveying the sentiment, but a certain atmosphere inherent within the tale of 'Scheherazade'...
Synopsis of 'Scheherazade and One Thousand and One Nights' via Wikipedia:
The frame tale goes that every day The King would marry a new virgin, and every day he would send yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. This was done in anger, having found out that his first wife was betraying him. He had killed one thousand such women by the time he was introduced to Scheherazade, the vizier’s daughter.
Against her father’s protestations, Scheherazade volunteered to spend one night with the King. Once in the King’s chambers, Scheherazade asked if she might bid one last farewell to her beloved sister, Dinazade, who had secretly been prepared to ask Scheherazade to tell a story during the long night. The King lay awake and listened with awe as Scheherazade told her first story. The night passed by, and Scheherazade stopped in the middle of the story. The King asked her to finish, but Scheherazade said there was not time, as dawn was breaking. So, the King spared her life for one day to finish the story the next night. So the next night, Scheherazade finished the story, and then began a second, even more exciting tale which she again stopped halfway through, at dawn. So the King again spared her life for one day to finish the second story.
And so the King kept Scheherazade alive day by day, as he eagerly anticipated the finishing of last night’s story. At the end of one thousand and one nights, and one thousand stories, Scheherazade told the King that she had no more tales to tell him. During these one thousand and one nights, the King had fallen in love with Scheherazade, and had three sons with her. So, having been made a wiser and kinder man by Scheherazade and her tales, he spared her life, and made her his Queen...