poorly, indeed, doth it fare wi' the poor, * With his pauper existence and beggarly plight: In summer he faileth provision to find; * In winter the fire-pot's his only delight: The street-dogs with bite and with bark to him rise, * And each losel receives him with bark and with bite: If he lift up his voice and complain of his wrong, * None pities or heeds him, however he's right; And when sorrows and evils like these he must brave * His happiest homestead were down in the grave."
When the Caliph heard his verses he said to Ja'afar, "See this poor man and note his verses, for surely they point to his necessities." Then he accosted him and asked, "O Shaykh, what be thine occupation?" and the poor man answered, "O my lord, I am a fisherman with a family to keep and I have been out between mid-day and this time; and not a thing hath Allah made my portion wherewithal to feed my family. I cannot even pawn myself to buy them a supper and I hate and disgust my life and I hanker after death." Quoth the Caliph, "Say me, wilt thou return with us to Tigris' bank and cast thy net on my luck, and whatsoever turneth up I will buy of thee for an hundred gold pieces?" The man rejoiced when he heard these words and said, "On my head be it! I will go back with you;" and, returning with them river-wards, made a cast and waited a while; then he
