"Craig Shaw Gardner - Arabian 3 - The Last Arabian Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Craig Shaw)

"Once these rooms were full of sunlight,
Rich with sweet laughter and flowers gay.
But a cloud covered the sun, the laughter died;
Should you pick a flower, you 'II find decay.''

Oh, thought Scheherazade. This had been a somber poem, but not
without a certain poignancy. "Second verse!" Omar announced.

"Once these rooms were filled with life
And sweet perfume that's long forgot.
But the floor is now bathed with women's blood,
And fair smells have been lost to rot."

"Yes," Scheherazade stated, "a most excellent poem. Now, if we might
get on-''

"It becomes even more dramatic in verse number three!" Omar
announced as he once again resorted to rhyme.

"Blood and death and rot and sorrow
Make up this spot's exigency,
And all who step within this place
Are covered with malignancy."

"So ends my humble offering." Omar bowed slightly and smiled.
"Sometimes I think it make us all feel better if I can put something in
rhyme."

The elder servant, who seemed to pay no attention to the poem
whatsoever, further introduced Dunyazad.

"A relitive?" Omar said with considerably less enthusiasm. "Well, there
must be some out-of-the-way place where we might put her. Ah, I
know the very room; well, it is little more than a closet, really, but it is in
the same quarter of the harem as the queen's chambers, and little more
than a five-minute walk from those apartments."

Scheherazade decided it was at last time to make a modest request.
"Are not my quarters large enough to accommodate more than one?"

"In actuality," Omar answered, "your quarters are large enough to
accommodate a modest army. Why do you ask?"
"I wish that my sister might stay with me," Scheherazade said sweetly
but firmly.

"Oh, dear," Omar replied with the slightest of frowns.

"It would be such a comfort," Scheherazade urged. Dunyazad, for her
part, smiled politely, although her eyes were full of sadness for her
sister.