第78部分(第2/7 頁)

　until my back was

hunched；　all　the　beatings　I’d　endured　while　learning　my　craft；　my　dedication

to　courting　blindness　through　illustration　and　all　the　agonies　of　painting　I’d

suffered and made others suffer。 As if running my eyes over something

forbidden； I stared long and silently at this wondrous illustration with the

same　delight。　Much　later　I　was　still　staring。　A　teardrop　slid　from　my　eye　over

my　cheek　into　my　beard。

342

When I noticed that one of the candlesticks slowly floating through the

Treasury was approaching me； I put the album away and randomly opened

one of the volumes the dwarf had recently set beside me。 This was a special

album prepared for shahs： I saw two deer at the edge of a green copse

enamored　of　each　other；　with　jackals　watching　them　in　hostile　envy。　I　turned

the　page：　Chestnut　and　bay　horses　that　could’ve　been　the　work　of　only　one　of

the old masters of Herat—how spectacular they were！ I turned the page： A

confidently seated governmental official greeted me from a seventy…year…old

picture；　I　couldn’t　determine　who　it　was　from　the　face　because　he　looked　like

anybody；　or　so　I　thought；　yet　the　air　of　the　painting；　the　seated　man’s　beard

painted in various hues recalled something。 My heart beat quickly as I

recognized　the　execution　of　the　magnificent　hand　in　the　piece。　My　heart　knew

before　I　did；　only　he　could’ve　drawn　such　a　splendid　hand：　This　was　the　work

of　Bihzad。　It　was　as　if　light　were　gushing　from　the　painting　to　my　face。

I　had　seen　pictures　drawn　by　the　Great　Master　Bihzad　a　few　times　b