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shouldered; pink…lipped; pretty boy who’d e from the palace; and was able

to infer that Head Illuminator Master Osman was behind this contest。 Master

Osman; without a doubt; knows my talent and likes me the best of all the

masters。

So; as I gazed at the empty page; the stance; look and demeanor of a horse

that would please both the Sultan and Master Osman came to life before my

eyes。 The horse ought to be lively; but serious; like the horses Master Osman

made ten years ago; and it should be rearing; in the way that always pleased

Our Sultan; so that both of them would concur on the horse’s beauty。 How

many gold pieces are they offering; I wonder? How would Mir Musavvir make

this picture? How would Bihzad?

Suddenly; the beast entered my thoughts with such speed; that by the time

I understood what it was; my damnable hand grabbed the brush and began to

draw a miraculous horse beyond anyone’s conception; starting from the raised

left foreleg。 After quickly joining the leg to the body; I made two arcs swiftly;

pleasurably and confidently—had you seen them; you would’ve said this artist

is no illustrator; but a calligrapher。 I was gazing at my hand with awe; while it

moved as if it belonged to another。 These spectacular arcs became the horse’s

ample stomach; solid chest and swanlike neck。 The illustration might’ve been

considered plete。 Oh; the talent of which I am possessed! Meanwhile; I

looked to see that my hand had traced out the nose and open mouth of the

strong and joyful horse and laid down the intelligent forehead and ears。 Next;

once again; look Mother; how beautiful; I merrily

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