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warmth reminded me that my beautiful wife with her gorgeous thighs had

been sitting here recently; indeed; I had used my reed pen to draw the sorrow

of the unfortunate prisoners before Our Sultan; as my intelligent wife clung to

the reed of my manhood。

The two…page scene I was painting depicted the deliverance of condemned

and imprisoned debtors and their families by the grace of Our Sultan。 I’d

situated the Sultan on the corner of a carpet covered in bags full of silver

coins; as I’d personally witnessed during such ceremonies。 Behind Him; I’d

located the Head Treasurer holding and reading out of the debt ledger。 I’d

portrayed the condemned debtors; chained to each other by the iron shackles

around their necks; in their misery and pain with knit brows; long faces and

some with teary eyes。 I’d painted the lute players in shades of red with beatific

faces as they acpanied the joyous prayers and poems that followed the

Sultan’s presentation of His benevolent gift: sparing the condemned from

prison。 To emphasize deliverance from the pain and embarrassment of debt—

though I had no such plan at the outset—beside the last of the miserable

prisoners; I’d included his wife; wearing a purple dress in the wretchedness of

destitution; along with his longhaired daughter;

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