laid eyes on  once akenly recalled about S I remembered. So, t to be. For a dozen years, as I ventured from city to city, I’d , flesible, like a large, shiny cherry.

    aken Srait yle of tian masters, I   sucravels ill your home.

    Meeting S son and speaking lessness peculiar to to murderers and to sinners. An inner voice urged me on, “Be quick now, go and see her.”

    For a ting my Enised t of turally, opened onto taircase—until I found S, I’d been separated from my beloved for to  discreetly, listening to my Eniss t Soucimes.

    ed to me t tan ed to ed in time for tan, Refuge of ted to demonstrate t in tate could make use of tyles of tivities made, tan granted t ter miniaturists, ted to sequester t o ead of among t t tine visits to my Enishte.

    “You s or Master Osman,” said my Enis  h.”

    Despite t t my Enis anding of a master illustrator and t t istic expertise at all, rol over an illustrated manuscript. t,  of tan, a situation t, of course, strained ionser Osman.

    ttention to be absorbed by ture and objects ill remembered t and tray, te coffee cups t ugal, as my late aunt ed numerous times. ts, like tand for a turban nailed to t pilloill carried someting in t house.

    Painting and tention to my story and my fate to bear t one time, I ented ings. ten t  deeply indebted to So adapt optimistically to life and té, no doubt t my love ed, I greo regard t ness t I involved myself o love to love te required of me back trating and painting. But as mucive and more fertile first ion to t for S poisoned tter time to being rejected; my desire on icy nigo sputter out and vanisoves of a caravansary, repeatedly dreaming after a nig I o a desolate abyss along ion t I  was furnished by Shekure.

    “ere you a after deato meet s of men and heir beds?”

    “No, I .”

    “e take a long journey after deat afraid of dying.  I fear is dying before I finisan’s book.”

    Part of me felt I ronger, more reasonable and more reliable te, and part of me  of tan t I’d purco meet er’s er going doairs, I’d take out of table and ride away.

    I told s to turists. I kissed  it to my foreairs, entered tyard, and sensing ted t I  t table door, a breeze began to stir. I led my o t of tyard, and  as if rong, large-veined legs, ience and ubbornness ered treet, I  to sly mount my steed and disappear doo return again, tish.

    “My brave man, my young ruly as  you be married? Or might you be a bachelor?

    ould you deign to buy a silk  lover from Estanbul’s premier peddler of fine cloth?”

    “Nay.”

    “A red saslas silk?”

    “Nay.”

    “Don’t go on piping ”nay‘ at me like t!  like you not  lover? eary-eyed maidens are burning  and so gesture. At time, he skill of a

    magician  of tter to appear in ealt, and as if I’d been training for t for years, I ily and artfully placed it into my sas ter and felt like fire against tween my belly and back.

    “Ride at an amble,” said Esturn rig t breaking stride, but o te tree turn and look at t left, at to your right.”

    S on ant.

    I mounted t like a novice doing so for t time. My  ement, my ten o control t rol of my ructed, my reet!

    It  I felt I migrutales, from beter and every latticed c I mig same fire t  I desired? as I succumbing aneo tartling me.

    e tree? as it tree here?

    Yes! I turned sligo t in my saddle. I sa t wencher!

    Just as I s, tters opened , as if ter tunning face among sno.

    as my dark-eyed beloved looking at me or at anot tell ed in my saddle again, fixing my desirous stare for as long as possible, until , elegant and mysterious face disappeared behe branches.

    Mucer, after opening ter and seeing tration   to  t moment, pictured a times, in ws S melancree

    between us. y, ohose books we so cherish and adore.

    I AM ESt S letter I presented to Black. As ty of mine, I learned everyto knoend you’re flipping back tory and let me tell you  letter.

    No’s getting on toired to our  little Je to keep o tove. Pay no mind to my calling myself “old.” ems cain to lure to ts and t clot over in Portuguese s bundle, Estanbul’s a kettle, and treet I don’t visit. t a ter t I  carried from one door to t, and I’ve played matco anbul, but I didn’t begin tal to brag. As I aking our ease in t t and opened it to discover  idiot slave girl, standing before me. Ster in  tell ement, but srembling as she explained Shekure’s wishes.

    At first, I assumed tter o be taken to ’s ty Surned from the war—if you ask me, he’s long since had his hide pierced.

    ell you see, t never-to-return soldier- Ster  meant for  for someone else.  did tter say? Esty, and in t.

    But alas,  knoo be , I  and er you’ll never knole me for my meddling—as if you yourselves aren’t as nosy as barbers. I’ll just relate to you ter. t s Sten:

    Black Effendi, you’re a visitor to my o your close relations  don’t expect a nod from me. Muc. I rong and spirited sons. One of t noo ting turn of my tle else ered my ts. I migection of a man, but let no one assume  take advantage of my situation. t erer, I’m also returning ture you painted and sent to me  yet about  ’s a mistake to believe t one could fall in love gazing at a picture. It’d be best if you stopped coming to our ely.

    My poor So stamp your letter! At ttom of t letter of ened bird. Nothing more.

    I said “seal.” You’re probably ers. But in fact tters aren’t sealed at all. “t Esterate Jeing.” true, I can’t read ten, but I can al ten, I can quite readily “read” t myself.

    Confused, are you?

    Let  me  put  it  t  tand:

    A letter doesn’t communicate by ter, just like a book, can be read by smelling it, touc and fondling it. telligent folk  tter tells you!”  ten!” Listen, noo w else Shekure said:

    . t tter in secret, by relying on Estter-delivery a matter of commerce and custom, I’m signifying t I don’t intend to conceal t muc all.

    . t I’ve folded it up like a Frencry implies secrecy and mystery, true. But tter isn’t sealed and ture enclosed. t implication is, “Pray, keep our secret at all costs,” ation to love tter of rebuke.

    . Furtter confirms terpretation. t enougo be ambiguous—did sentionally perfume tter?—yet alluring enougo fire readers’ curiosity—is ttar or to enrapture tter to me, will surely  on Black.

    . I am Esto read nor e, but t and ting seems to say “Alas, I am rusing carelessly and  paying serious attention,”

    tters t tter elegantly as if caugle breeze convey t opposite message. Even  noter ten at t very moment, betrays a ploy no less obvious taken in each line.

    . ture sent along ter depicts pretty S old in tory t even I, Estanbul adore tory, but never o send an illustration relating to it.

    It ime to you fortunate literate people: A maiden o read a love letter ster is so surprising, exciting and disturbing t its o your becoming privy to  intimate affairs, asraugo read it once more. You read it again. In tter so many times t bot. Before long, sake tter in  statement t  to te places, sill unable to make sense of tares at tters of times I am so moved I forget t I myself can’t read or e and feel to embrace terate maidens o the page.

    truly accursed letter-readers; pray, don’t you turn out to be like one of takes tter in o touc again, desiring to look at it  understanding which words were

    spoken o  are you trying to do? You can’t read,  to look at?” Some of t even return tter, treating it  belonged to t times, task of accosting trieving tter falls to me, Est’s to your aid as well.

    I, S t eed? ters intuitively at t exact moment and stare at e tree? I can’t tell you for sure. I’d sent o Est Black ake t route. Mean-in closet and te tree to inspect ts in t. On a  t moment, I pusters open rengt flooded tanding at to-face  e lovely.

    ured and,  urned out to be a comely man. Listen S did tell me,  only o  of a c ter e message.

    ture tead of standing straigall before me in a fasting a man and announcing t o do t, jump from t or climb onto t t bury ure, ime, ing declaring ured by then.

    urned t Black could no longer look into my eyes, as if  ivory- t unable to look at me. If I asked ance, “Is t to your liking?”  simply indicate so e smile or nod, as op of rying to communicate riking beauty t siged curtains or ya ely became enamored of me.

    I’m not being a braggart, I’m explaining tand my story and be better able to share in my grief.

    In tale of  t Black and I  lengtends to make ryside outing h

    , ing party opped to rest. Beure of t beautiful garden, Sricken by love. Many paintings depict t—or “scene” as turists ing of Sion and be as she image of hüsrev.

    ure many times and  copies by eyeing ted. After falling in love  time in place of rayed   for tions beneature imes  indication enougten our names beneat ting w and run off.

    co see ion to ion would be.

    I  I  be able to love  summer’s day o cool ourselves s made o  all t Ulu, I told my fat ion of love. At t time, Black  graduated from tauge neig of my fatence ttempting to obtain tronage of teemed Naim Pas according to my fat yet s about aken great pains to  as a clerk to begin, complained t  doing muco furt very nigo Black and me, my fat s very  regard for my moter than we’d supposed.”

    I remember  my fat my distance from Black and o visit our  I  explain all of t you’ll dislike my fato you, ions reasonable people immediately sense t love  anding ts of t, make a quick end

    of it by politely declaring, “t find us suitably matc’s just t is.” But, I’ll  my motimes, “At least don’t break t.” Black, y-four, and I   of  insolence,   her’s wishes.

    t forgotten ogetime   Istanbul,  ely out of our affections.

    Because  y for years, I deemed it appropriate to save ture oken of our co prevent my fater my soldier-ure and getting upset or jealous, I expertly concealed t appear as if someone o t later to be disguised as flourned t picture to oday, maybe to take a dim vie.

    o  t t, until I felt the evening air.

    t care reet  ters, Mesrure,  t inopportune times o told me t a person never knoly imes I’ll say somettering it t it is of my o no sooner do I arrive at t realization te is true.

    I urists my faten invited to t pretend I  spied on eac missing, mucunate ”  among t impoveris.

    I closed tters, left t doo tchen.

    “Mot didn’t listen to you,” Oraking  of table, S left tche peephole.”

    “ of it!” S said, waving .”

    “tle butter and serve it to th marzipan and sugar.”

    Or . But as I airs, t up to me, screaming, pusedly. “Be sloted te backs.

    is to be ly given o a book.

    “Your guest ed,” I said. “I  trouble you much?”

    “On trary,” ertained me. ful as ever of e.”

    “Good.”

    “But now ing.”

    less to observe my reaction to close t in a manner t made ligongue, as I am  to do. time, t t of Black making ground on e horse, and I shuddered.

    I’m not sure   later in t, Or joined us; tussled o to my bosom and felt t on my breasts.

    “Ainks. I’m going to send you to tomorroh hayriye.”

    “I don’t  to go to t said.

    “oo grown-up?” I said.

    “Mot said.

    I  into t I usually  my skin  and alive. I’d rubbed a bit of rouge onto my c I evened it out by licking my palm and rubbing my c my relatives, t

    at t I look more like a sixteen-year-old maiden ty-four-year-old mot her prime?

    Believe truly believe t tell you any more.

    Don’t be surprised t I’m talking to you. For years I’ve combed tures in my fat beauties. t, if feically. Never do tand straigans rated books by careless artists are trained not on tration—o kno’s say a lover or a goblet—but directly at t t reader.

    I s o time of tamerlane, volumes for ries: Perant land en to tory of mine. Isn’t t lies beo be inscribed in t it just for t t sultans and viziers proffer bags of gold to ories ten? , just like tiful side, I, too, long to speak ant time and place. I’m an attractive and intelligent  pleases me t I’m being co tell a lie or time to time, it’s so you don’t come to any false conclusions about me.

    Maybe you’ve noticed t my fat God took t me, er. My fates on me, t of  to a spaiced and fancied. If it  to my fat only be test of scion for painting and art, be possessed of poy, and be as ric of men in t even be found in to pine a home forever.

    My ermediates. unity to appear before me as I urning from t as fire, and I immediately fell in love. he was a dark-haired, fair-skinned, green-eyed man

    rong arms; but at ,  and quiet like a sleepy child.

    Nevert seemed, to me at least, t ang of blood about rengttle and amassing booty, even t le and quiet as a lady.

    ter alloo marry me because I tened to kill myself oter tary fief en ttle after battle  acts of bravery, truly, everyone envied us.

    Four years ago urn  of t t  first. For ttlefield, t and clever ing opportunities for er spoils, in ing more soldiers of nesses ains er ed from a division of ted a scurn, but after tomed to anbul, I resigned myself to my fate.

    At nigo quiet tears, I’d tell t so-and-so urn before spring. After found its o me, I’d be t to believe the good news.

    of times. e ed lemanly Abk er  son made une soldiering, returned to take up rade at a late age. oms, and as o assume ter, fearing t be able to pay rent, tily took to to t and sold er o do tc to to do tead. I didn’t protest by saying, “Am I type of o take on suc to  her-in-law of mine hasan, now

    o take into  nig knoo do.

    Of course, I could’ve immediately come back o t according to to anger my in-la not stop at forcing my co my  e us furtained” me, puniso tell truto be more  if I o do t careful t, I migead of his wife.

    In any event, because t I ion of tance and turn to my fatoo,  eager for a judge’s decision proclaiming my  dead, I naturally couldn’t   marriage, my in-laion of tuation. For lest you forget, I sao all to th me.

    isfied  and decided it ime for me to marry   to arrange for tnesses to convince t kin, ed ed to declaring my nesses estify t ttle, t  difficult to convince  I  leave tance rigo marry  I’d marry him of my own free will.

    Naturally, I kne to gain rust in to sleep ely assured I o  to get o divorce my  because I h him.

    it, I could’ve fallen in love  years younger t tle brotiment endeared o me. I liked e demeanor, h my

    c me as t and I o force myself to fall in love  mind my o s and bazaars like a common slave. During to my fatared at ts, pans, bos y, .  I could love  tial and mandatory precondition for our marriage  itself; and because ed inappropriately. ried to corner me, kiss me and fondle me.  my urn, t he would kill me.

    ened me, cried like a baby and in e and fluster, never alloime for a true and noble love to be born. I knew I could never wed him.

    One nigried to force t ely, and  a t t I migen t top of my lungs t evil jinns ered the house.

    t of jinn-panic and screaming aed violence ill visible, to ings about jinns, taid old man to  acknorutted and ely approac sleep a ill morning, keeping c to protect my c “t I’d be returning to my fatended stay to care for ime of illness; t . I returned to my fataking os of my married life to temptation to sell it), t explosive of Arab steeds, tabriz-made ivory c icks (booty from ttle of Na so desperately to keep w.

    As I expected, quitting my absent urned ful love into a   stand beead of tening me,  my pity by sending me love letters in   t I’ve

    recently begun to read tters t reveal ion, of  enlist one of istic or poetic friends to e and embellis letter,  I o   of money. t, respectful and one, compounded by ts and demands of ts, turned my o a veritable kettledrum. Indeed, it o o t I’d opened tters of t window.

    Before  table, I prepared a draugters from t Arabian date palm flole lemon juice, tly entered my fat myself, placed it before  making my presence known, as he preferred.

    “Is it snoood at once t snoher would ever see.

    I AM A tREE  I am a tree and I am quite lonely. I en to are at me as you  jinns and let me explain to you why I’m so alone.

    . t I’ve been ily sketco nonsized, rougure of a tree miger storyteller. true enoug t, trees beside me, no seven-leaf steppe plants, no dark billoions imes resemble Satan or a man and no coiling C t my story is muced.

    . As a tree, I need not be part of a book. As ture of a tree, urbed t I’m not a page . Since I’m not representing somet comes to mind is t my picture o a rate t  I secretly take pride in t—but tmost fear and embarrassment.

    . tial reason for my loneliness is t I don’t even kno of a story, but I fell from tumn. Let me tell you about it:

    Falling from My Story Like a Leaf Falls in Fall   Forty years ago, tatomans as est patron-king of t of painting, began to gro ry and painting; furt drinking coffee, and naturally, opped ed old geezer, ransferred al from tabriz, ory, to Kazvin so it toman armies. One day ely swore off wine, handsome young boys

    and painting, er t s aste for coffee,  his mind.

    turists, est masterpieces in ty-year period in tabriz, scattered like a covey of partridges to oties.

    Saan Ibraed t gifted among to Mastled turists’  a marvelous illuminated and illustrated manuscript of all seven fables of test poet in  during tamerlane. Saelligent and ted er to  t book and angrily ousted  of Governor of Maso ty of Kain, before sending o to of anger. tors of Maso oties and regions, to ts worksans and princes.

    Miraculously, an Ibra remain unfinised librarian. travel on o S master gilders lived; take a couple pages to Isfa elegant calligrapalik script; afterains till  all to Bukure’s composition and  master painter o commission one of its ers to paint from memory ts and leaves; visiting anot,  o inscribe, in gold Rika script, ture; finally, o to Kain, wraveling, an Ibrahim Mirza.

    At t  ted, so mounted tatar couriers o t leaf, ed text, eacter describing tion to tist. t pages passed over territory and transoxania. tion of t messengers. At times, on a snowy niger  and , for example,

    ruck up a friendly conversation, t t and ry to determine betive pages, retrieved from tually belonged.

    I  to be among trated manuscript t I sadly ed today. Unfortunately, on a cold er’s day, tatar courier  tatar, tting t, I kno t is t you look at me and ask: “ere you per to provide sed Leyla in ent?” or “ere you meant to fade into t, representing tced to complement to find solace on an island ric! I ed to ss of o conquer an as ent nosebleed brougroke. Or  to symbolize trengto o  to add meaning and grace?

    Among taken me ain to mountain and city to city, tood my  to realize t looking at tree is more pleasant t a tree; but because  knoo er dragging me from city to city, t tear me apart and dispose of me as I’d feared , but sold me to a cultivated man in a caravansary for a jug of imes at nigunate delicate-spirited man are at me by candleligime, o ter storyteller anbul. No o be onigtoman Sultan’s miraculously inspired, eagle-eyed, iron--ed, sensitive-spirited miniaturists and calligrap to believe tily sketco coarse paper by some master miniaturist as a wall prop.

    But  ruths are being spread!

    You mig niger nailed ture of a dog ed tures of t; and  time old of tures of   ely misunderstood tory; target of our account. Could  preaceemed Excellency, ain birth?

    God forbid! ould it  misc a crude lie! Clearly,  of Erzurum is being confused  of Erzurum, so let me proceed to tell you tory of Cross-Eyed Nedret ree.

    Besides denouncing tty boys and t of painting, t ained t coffee  coffee drinkers o ten ? Let me tell you about it, t s tell anyone, and may Allaect you from baseless slander. One morning, I ao find t a giant of a man—God protect all as a minaret o togetioned  it like dogs in . , tended to ely kissing o it, “Coffee is a sin, coffee is a vice…”

    Accordingly, ts of coffee, believe not in ts of our good religion, but in the Devil himself.

    And finally, I sion of Frank painters, so if tes among you o be like terred. Noers depict ts, noblemen and even er gazing upon trait, you’d be able to identify t person on treet. treets any imagine t. As if t enougaken matters even furt mean in regard to pimping, but in regard to painting.

    A great European master miniaturist and anot master artist are uosity and art. As troll, a forest comes into vie of to ting in tyle demands sucalent t if you depicted one

    of trees in t, a man ing could come ly select t tree from among thers.”

    I t I, tree before you,  been draent. And not because I fear t if I’d been ted all tanbul ree and piss on me: I don’t  to be a tree, I  to be its meaning.