and Shirin fall in love。 One day Shirin embarks on a countryside outing with
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her ladies of the court； when she sees a picture of Hüsrev that Shapur has
secretly hung from the branch of one of the trees beneath which the outing
party has stopped to rest。 Beholding this picture of the handsome Hüsrev in
that beautiful garden； Shirin is stricken by love。 Many paintings depict this
moment—or “scene” as the miniaturists would have it—consisting of Shirin’s
look of adoration and bewilderment as she gazes upon the image of Hüsrev。
While Black was working with my father； he’d seen this picture many times
and had twice made exact copies by eyeing the original as he painted。 After
falling in love with me； he made a copy for himself。 But this time in place of
Hüsrev and Shirin； he portrayed himself and me； Black and Shekure。 If it
weren’t for the captions beneath the figures； only I would’ve known who the
man and maiden in the picture were； because sometimes when we were joking
around； he’d depict us in the same manner and color： I all in blue； he all in
red。 And if this weren’t indication enough； he’d also written our names
beneath the figures。 He’d left the painting where I would find it and run off。
He watched me to see what my reaction to his position would be。
I was well aware that I wouldn’t be able to love him like a Shirin； so I
feigned ignorance。 On the evening of that summer’s day when Black gave me
his painting； during which we’d tried to cool ourselves with sour…cherry
sherbets made with ice