detail so there would be no doubt
that I had indeed labored over the illustration。 From this position； that is； the
rear lateral view； the horse’s testicles should’ve been visible； but I left them
out because they might unduly preoccupy the women。 Proudly； I studied my
horse： rearing； moving like a tempest； strong and powerful！ It was as if a wind
had kicked up and set elliptical brush strokes in motion； like the letters in a
line of script； yet the animal was also poised。 They’d praise the magnificent
miniaturist who drew this illustration as if praising a Bihzad or a Mir
Musavvir； and then； I； too； would be like them。
When I draw a magnificent horse； I bee a great master of old drawing
that horse。
301
I AM CALLED “STORK”
After the evening prayers I intended to go to the coffeehouse； but they told me
there was a visitor at the door。 Good tidings； I hoped。 I went to discover a
messenger from the palace。 He described the Sultan’s contest。 Fine； the
world’s most beautiful horse。 You tell me how much you’ll offer for each； and
I’ll quickly draw you five or six of them。
Rather than say any such thing； I maintained my reserve； and simply
invited the boy waiting at the door inside。 I thought for a moment： The
world’s most beautiful horse doesn’t even exist that I might draw it。 I can
draw war steeds； large Mongolian horses； noble Arabians； heroic； writhing
chargers covered in blood； or even luckless packhorses pulling a cartfull of
stone to a building site； but no one would call any of th