IX. THE TALE OF THE FARMER’S WIFE AND THE HONEY-BEE

1. Saith my Master :-
Here was a farmer's wife who had fled from her home. And why had she done this ? It was because the village overseer and the headman had shown her tyranny, and so she had fled. She reached a forest, and there there came a honey-bee. Behold, speech came to the Honey-bee, and she saith to the farmer's wife, "Why hast thou fled?" And she replied that tyranny had been shown to her. Then answered her the honey-bee, "I also have suffered tyranny, and therefore do I lament. Prithee, lend thou me thine ear." And thus speaketh the honey-bee to the farmer's wife :-
Prithee hither come, my friend. Let us fall at God's feet, and make our prayers to Him.
Lo, I am thy honey-bee, a poor winged creature of the forest.

2. From hill to hill did I collect my flower-nectar, and become possessed of manifold progeny.
May ruin seine that ruthless bear, for he it was that drove me to the forests.

3. He utterly destroyed my little ones. 0 God, why came there no pity to Thee ?
Lo, I am thy honey-bee, a poor winged creature of the forest.

4. Quoth the honey-bee to the farmer's wife, "Thus and thus was I driven from the forest by the bear, and now I fled. Then alighted I at a farmer's house, and he said unto me, `I will give thee peace and comfort.' Behold what that farmer did unto me. Prithee, lend thou me thine ear. What shall I say unto thee?"
He made ready a hive as an abode for me, and rubbed it o'er with fresh butter. It became a prison of death for me.
It was my fate that brought me to the farmer's house, and, of a truth, that fate was humiliation.

5. With a sickle lie cut off my honey-combs, and thereby there rose upon him the guilt of countless murders.
Lo, I am thy honey-bee, a poor winged creature of the forest.

6. So finished that Honey-bee the story of her pain and now saith she to that farmer's wife, "If aught hath haappened unto thee, do thou also tell it." Then speaketh the farmer’s wife and saith to her, "Hear what hath happened unto me."

Each soul must dree its weird, and there is a place below to which it mist descend.
Lo, I am thy farmer's wife. We came not to this world as an abiding place.

7. In the spring the tax-gatherers came to the farmer, with soft encouragement. 
With sweet words did they fill their bellies, and enclosed them as in a net.

8. In the autumn they forgot all their kindness. They it was who came to beat us.
Lo, I am thy farmer's wife. We came not to this world as an abiding place.

9. Crops sowed I in mother earth, and they it was that sprung up and ripened.
I collected and piled them on the threshing-floor, hundreds of kharwars* in weight.

* kharwars weighs about a hundred weight and a half.

10. From village-circuit to village-circuit to weigh the produce came the headman and the accountant.
Lo, I am thy farmer's wife. We came not to this world as an abiding place.

11. How many of the poor and needy, 0 friend, came as beggars holding out their lap-cloths!
Their skirts I filled and filled, for that giveth an assurance of salvation.

12. The recording angels will write down with their pens the reward of these good actions, so that they may ne'er be shaken.
Lo, I am thy farmer's wife. We came not to this world as an abiding place.

Hatim's Tales