29 Khordad 1405
Quatrain 10 of 75
“With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.”
Reflection · Spring 1405
The strip of herbage is a real place and a philosophy. It is the verge — the thin green margin where the managed world of agriculture ends and the unmanaged world of desert begins. It belongs to neither. You can lie on it without owning it. The name of Slave and Sultan is scarce known here — not absent, but scarce, like a sound that fades as you walk away from its source. The political world still exists; you just can't quite hear it from the strip.
Pity Sultan Mahmud on his throne. Not contempt — pity. Because the throne is a confinement more complete than the slave's chains: you cannot leave it, cannot put down its weight, cannot lie on a strip of grass in summer without the machinery of power following you. The spring morning is the same morning for everyone. But not everyone can reach the strip.