מכתב: ENA 2739.16

In [Your name!]

Just is the Lord in all his ways, etc. (Psalms 145:17)

The righteous man has gone, etc. (Isaiah 57:1)

Comfort, comfort my people, etc. (Isaiah 40:1)

From their father who is yearning after them, Solomon, son of Japheth, [may he] r[est in] E[den].

I am able to express only a fraction of my grief over the passing away of my lord, the illustrious leader, [his] h[onor], g[reatness, and] h[oliness], our master and teacher Manasse, the wise and prudent judge, whose demise has hurt the hearts and caused pain to the souls. [May the] m[emory of the] r[ighteous] be b[lessed]. How deeply was I afflicted by his death and by his being taken away from those who relied on him. May God assign him a place with the saints, may he grant consolation to his mourners and heal their wounds and comfort them in his great mercy.

Would I try to describe the extent of my feelings of longing and yearning for you all the time, my letter would become too long and the words too many. But He who knows the secrets of the heart has the might to bring about relief for each of us by uniting us in joy.

Your precious letters have arrived; I have read and scrutinized them, and was happy to learn from them that you are well and healthy and that you have escaped from those great terrors, the like of which have not been experienced for many generations. Praise be to God for your deliverance and for granting you respite until you might be recompensed in a measure commensurate with your sufferings.

In your letters you alternately rebuke and offend me or put me to shame and use harsh words all the time. I have not deserved any of this. I swear by God, I do not believe that the heart of anyone traveling away from his wife has remained like mine, all the time and during all the years—from the moment of our separation to the very hour of writing this letter—so constantly thinking of you and yearning after you and regretting to be unable to provide you with what I so much desire: your legal rights on every Sabbath and holiday, and to fulfill all your wishes, great and small, with regard to dresses or food or anything else. And you write about me as if I had forgotten you and would not remember you had it not been for your rebukes, and as if, had you not warned me that the public would reprove me, I would not have thought of you. Put this out of your mind and do not impute such things to me. And if what you think or say about my dedication to you is the product of your mind, believing that words of rebuke will increase my yearning—no, in such a way God will not let me reach the fulfillment of my hope, although in my heart there is twice as much as I am able to write. But he is able to have us both reach compensation for our sufferings and then, when we shall be saved, we shall remember in what situation we are now.

You rebuke me with regard to the ambergris. You poor ones!!! Had you known how much trouble and expenses I have incurred to get this ambergris for you, you would have said: there is nothing like it in the world. [ . . . ]

This was my way of life from the moment I left you until I arrived in Aden [and from there to India] and from India back to Aden: Day and night I was constantly drinking, not of my free will, but I conducted myself in an exemplary way and if anyone poked fun in foul speech in my presence, I became furious with him, until he became silent, he and others. I constantly fulfilled what God knows, and cured my soul by fasting during the days and praying during the nights. The congregations in Aden and in India often asked me to lead them in prayer, and I am regarded by them and regard myself as a pious man. . . .

Now in one of your letters you adjure me to set you free, then letters arrived from the old man saying the same. [ . . . ]

Now, if this is your wish, I cannot blame you. For the waiting has been long. And I do not know whether the Creator will grant relief immediately so that I can come home, or whether matters will take time, for I cannot come home with nothing. Therefore I resolved to issue a writ which sets you free. Now the matter is in your hand. If you wish separation from me, accept the bill of repudiation and you are free. But if this is not your decision and not your desire, do not lose these long years of waiting: perhaps relief is at hand and you will regret at a time when regret will be of no avail.

And please do not blame me, for I never neglected you from the time when those things happened and made an effort to save you and me from people talking and impairing my honor. The refusal was on your side, not on mine. I do not know whether this is your decision or that of someone else, but after all this, please do not say, you or someone else: this is our reward from him and our recompense. All day long I have a lonely heart and am pained by our separation. I feel that pain while writing these lines. But the choice is with you; the decision is in your hand: if you wish to carry the matter through, do so; if you wish to leave things as they are, do so. But do not act after the first impulse. Ask the advice of good people and act as you think will be the best for you. May God inspire you with the right decision. . . .

[Best regards to my sister] and her husband, the illustrious elder Abu ’l-Faḍā’īl, the scholar, to Ma‘ānī, the scholar [?]‌, and his son. I have exerted myself for him to a degree that only God knows. The elder Abu ’l-Khayr agreed to pay him 10 mithqāls [Egyptian dinars], which the elder Abu ’l-Makārim will deliver to him.

Convey my greetings to the elder Abū Isḥāq, the son of your paternal uncle, to his mother, to the elder Abū ‘Imrān and his children, to . . . j, the daughter of your paternal uncle, and to all those whom you know, my most sincere regards