THE ALPHABET

M. B. U. Z. TRANSLATED FROM BOSNIAN BY EDIN HAJDARPAŠIĆ

Art by Tim Peters

  •                               ا


    Elif—eldi nijjet geldi,
    Primakni se, dušo meni 
    Da ja kažem elif tebi: 
    Ti si tanka elif-motka, 
    Tu je osnov, tu je potka. 

     

                                  ب


    Be—je mjesec, pod njim nokta: 
    Ti si mjesec, ja sam nokta. 
    Mjesec noktu obasjava, 
    Nokta mjesec zagrijava, 
    Ovo dvoje be je tvoje. 

     

                                  ت


    Te—tebi je ime Fate, 
    U tebe su prsi zlatne; 
    Prsi tvoje te je moje. 
    Da ih meni ko ukrade, 
    Dao bih mu altun sade. 

     

                                  ث


    Se—sevab je tebe učiti, 
    A i meni muku mučiti. 
    Se je moje lice tvoje. 
    Izgubiće dušu žene 
    Koje kude tebi mene. 

     

                                  ج


    Džim—džamija, tursko gnijezdo, 
    A meni je ime Fejzo —
    Sinoć sam ti arfe svezo,
    A sada ti džim pokazo. 

     

                                  ح

     

    Ha—hasta sam kad te vidim, 
    A budalim kad ne vidim. 
    Ukaži se da te vidim! 
    Softi malu sreću hiti — 
    Ha će tvoje odmah biti. 

     

                                  خ

     

    Hi—hajir je softom stati, 
    A neće ti mati znati. 
    Ako li ti mati znade, 
    Budi, dušo, moj evlade. 

     

                                  د 

     

    Dal—da sam te sinoć tuko’, 
    Ne bih danas vako kuk’o. 
    Dal, gdje bih te, dušo, tuko, 
    Ondje bi ti u džan puk’o. 

     

                                  ذ 

     

    Ζel—je Fate, kriva kvaka, 
    Na glavi mu ’krugla kapa. 
    Ti si moja medna patka, 
    I pod perjem ti si slatka. 

     

                                  ر 

     

    Ri—je kao mala kuka, 
    A ti si mi šećer-kruška. 
    Ri će krušku prikučiti: 
    Tad će softa mučit muku — 
    I pojesti šećer-krušku. 

     

                                  ز 

     

    Ζe—je isto ko i zel, 
    Ti si softin gjul-dilber; 
    Softa će te odvest kući, 
    Kna metnuti gjunah pući.

     

                                  س 

     

    Sin—su softi zlatne grablje, 
    Ugrabiće te od mater
    I strpati u tevtere
    Na dušeke deveter. 

     

                                  ش 

     

    Šin—šećerna šeće moja. 
    Što će tebi kna i boja? 
    Kad svak znade da si moja.
    Šinom ću te ograditi, 
    Sa zvjezdama zakititi, 
    Gjul ti bašču zasaditi. 

     

                                  ص 

     

    Sat—je tvoja pletenica. 
    Kaži gjule softi svome! 
    Kad će biti maslenica? 

     

                                  ض 

     

    Dat—je satu pravi brat, 
    Ima noktu jednu više; 
    U toj nokti zapis veli, 
    Srce moje tebe želi. 

     

                                  ط


    Ti—je jela tvoga stasa, 
    Na softu se naslonila; 
    On te drži oko pasa — 
    Ti si njega zavoljela. 

     

                                  ظ


    Zi—je zijan tako biti. 
    Bježi meni zlato moje! 
    Softa će te naučiti: 
    Zi je isto ko i "ti", 
    Ima više jednu noktu 
    Koja kaže—ljubi softu!

     

                                  ع 

     

    Ajin—je zair, ko ga uči air, 
    Ko ne uči? — kijamet! —
    Pruži ruku softi gjule, 
    Dobićeš shalamet. 

     

                                  غ 

     

    Gajin—i ajin jednaki su svati, 
    Gajin, bir ćulah na glavi nosi
    I tebe Fate za Softu prosi. 

     

                                  ف 

     

    Fe—je naša imenjača:
    Ti si Fata, a ja Fejzo —
    Džejlešanum “fe” nas svezo! 
    Lako ga je napamtiti: 
    Ozgor nokta, dolje peta, 
    Bježi meni da ne vidi teta! 

     

                                  ق 

     

    Kaf—je kao naše “fe”, 
    Na glavi mu oka dva, 
    Slatko gleda lice tvoje; 
    Al milije, softa — ja. 

     

                                  ك 

     

    Kef—imade jednu kazmu, 
    S njom ću mezar iskopati, 
    I šumicom ograditi, 
    Pa il’ s tobom sreću teći, 
    Il’ u mezar hladni leći. 

     

                                  ل 

     

    Lam—je kao teljig vola; 
    Mi tražimo sada kola,
    Pa bježimo na livade, 
    Gdje sa lamom cvijeće sade. 
    Ti ćeš cvjetak prvi biti 
    I tim softu zakititi. 

     

                                  م 

     

    Mim—je sličan puloglavcu, 
    A čemu je Fata slična?
    U kosi joj sadžmakovi, 
    Viš gjulova crne oči, 
    Tamo dragi kamenovi,
    Iz njih biju plamenovi, 
    Kuda sižu — sve isprže. 

     

                                  ن


    Nun—je čanak pun šerbeta, 
    Po njem plovi nokta zlatna. 
    I moj čamac tamo plovi 
    Utvu zlatnu da ulovi. 

     

                                  و


    Vav je gledaj malo kriv 
    Ko poguren starac—živ 
    Koji gleda u nas dvoje: 
    Alahu se naš “vav” moli, 
    Da nas Alah blagoslovi.

     

                                  ھ 

     

    He—helaćluk meni vele, 
    Da sam sinoć ukro tebe. 
    Kad bi te ukr’o, zlato? 
    Ja bih sretan hajduk bio, 
    Šeriata ne bih s’ krio. 

     

                                  لا 

     

    Lam-elif—je makazica 
    Koja majci zlato reže, 
    A o vratu softi veže; 
    Neka softa muku muči, 
    Nak lam-elif ćerku uči.

     

                                  ي 

     

    Je—čakmak, čelik tvrdi; 
    Ti si draga kremen živi 
    Koji živu vatru kreše, 
    A varnice iz kremena 
    U trud srca softu žeže.

  • by Edin Hajdarpašić

     

    “The Alphabet” was first published in 1913 by the Bosnian teacher Petar Mirković, who attributed the composition to a Bosnian shaykh known only by the initials “M.B.u.Z.” It takes the form of a love poem written by a male student named Fejzo flirting with his darling Fata (Fatima) while teaching her the shapes of the Arabic letters. “The Alphabet” stands apart from other South Slavic poetry as neither an epic-folkloric opus nor an example of the Romantic lyricism favored by intellectuals at the turn of the century. Instead, it is a kind of vernacular didactic rhyme, playing with the straightforward heteronormative theme of a lovers’ tryst and entangling it with the shapes of Arabic letters. 

     

    It is in the context of a modernizing project that “The Alphabet” appeared in 1913, most likely as an attempt to expand the practice of writing Bosnian in the Arabic script. Ever since the expansion of Ottoman rule into the Balkans in the fifteenth century, Arabic script had been one means for writing non-Arabic and non-Ottoman languages (a literary practice often called aljamiado). In Bosnia, many local writers adapted the Perso-Arabic script to South Slavic dialects. But as the historian Harun Buljina notes in a recent article in Turcica, the use of this arebica script experienced a modern revival in the early twentieth century when several Bosnian Muslim intellectuals standardized it for use in print. The fact that a number of Arabic letters are missing from “The Alphabet” may reflect standardization debates over arebica ongoing at the time. 

     

    But these finer linguistic points may seem extraneous to the poem’s weaving together of flirting and writing. Its lines can sometimes be mawkish or a bit chauvinistic. For example, Fejzo, the male student teaching his beloved to write, begins to compare the letter saat (ص) to his lover’s braided hair, but the braid reminds him of a kind of burek that he then asks her to make. In another verse, he woos Fata by promising never to hit her because it would make him cry, hinting at the contempt and violence that often lurk beneath flattery of women. Other verses muster more compelling imagery. In one stanza, Fejzo compares the letter seen (س) to a rake that will sweep his beloved off to bed where they will both write and cuddle. In another, he imagines the dot above the noon (ن) as a boat floating in a giant bowl of sharbat.

     

    “The Alphabet” is a sentimental and uneven collection of verses that continually links literacy with intimacy. It is its central aspiration—to make people love reading and writing—that makes the poem worth translating and engaging with here.

     

     

     

    M. B. U. Z. was a shaykh who lived in Bosnia at the end of the nineteenth century. He is said to have recited “The Alphabet” (“Ašiklijski elif-bah”) to the Bosnian teacher and folklorist Petar Mirković, who published this poem in 1913.

     

    edin hajdarpašić is a historian teaching at Loyola University Chicago. He is the author of Whose Bosnia? Nationalism and Political Imagination in the Balkans, 1840–1914  (Cornell, 2015). His writing, which has been translated into Italian, Chinese, and Turkish, concerns the politics of history and memory.

     

                              ا 

 

Alif—all intent, the letter draws near,

Come closer, my dear.

So I can teach alif to you:

You are slender, like a staff,

You are the warp, and the weft!

 

                              ب‎ 

 

Ba—is the moon, beneath the dot:

You are the crescent, I am the dot.

The light of the moon,

The warmth of the dot,

You are both, you are ba.

 

                              ت 

 

Ta—Fata is your name,

Your golden chest,

That chest now mine.

Were someone to steal you away,

Purest gold to them I’d pay.

 

                              ث 

 

Se—is sevap, let me teach you:

A good deed, for me, sweet agony;

I teach you se, your face I see.

May women who blaspheme you

Lose their souls too.

 

                              ج

 

Jeem—jamii, of Turkish fame,

And I am Fejzo, that’s my name—

Last night’s letters to you I gave,

And now this jeem you can claim.

 

                              ح 

 

Ha—half ill when I see you

And mad when I don’t.

Show yourself so I see you!

Grant this disciple what he adores—

Ha will instantly be yours.

 

                              خ 

 

Heh—Help, do some good, come to me,

Your mother won’t know, we’re free;

And if she does find out

Stay, my child, with me.

 

                              د 

 

Dal—Dare not strike you,

I’d weep all night and day.

Dal—I wouldn’t dare, my doll,

It would pierce my very soul.

 

                              ذ

 

Zal—that is Fata’s crooked strap

On its top a rounded cap.

You’re the sweetest duck in town

There’s honey beneath your down.

 

                              ر

 

Ra—is like a little hook,

And you’re my sugar pear.

Ra will hook the fruit mid-air;

Then this disciple, in despair— 

Will devour the sugar pear.

 

                              ز

 

Za—and zal are similar

You’re the disciple’s gül dilber;

The disciple will take you home,

Henna will stay on till dawn.

 

                              س 

 

Seen—is like a golden rake: 

Sweeping you from your mother,

Writing you in my pages,

Embracing you in the pillows.

 

                              ش 

 

Sheen—sugary šećer of mine.

What use is henna and dye

When everyone knows you’re mine?

Shielded with my sheen,

Seen among the stars,

In a garden, tended by me.

 

                              ص 

 

Saat—is your hair in a braid.

Tell your disciple, my dear rose,

When will a burek be made?

 

                              ض 

 

Daat—and saat are two brothers,

But daat has a dot. 

Within it, a scroll turns:

It is for you my heart yearns.

 

                              ط 

 

Te—is a fir tree, shaped like you,

It leans on your disciple;

He holds you round the waist—

With your love he will be graced.

 

                              ظ 

 

Ze—ziyan, it spells injury.

Flee, my dear, come to me!

I will teach you letters:

Ze is just like Te,

But it has a dot above,

Which says—it’s you I love.

 

                              ع 

 

Ayn—is plain, to learn it a good deed;

Who doesn’t learn it —kijamet!—

Your hand is what I need,

You will be greeted with Selamet!

 

                              غ 

 

Ghayn—and ayn, two groomsmen,

Ghayn, on its head rests a kulah hat,

About our wedding it wants to chat.

 

                              ف 

 

Fe—is our namesake:

I am Fejzo, and you Fata,

Jalla shanahu, we’re tied by fe!

It’s easy to remember:

A dot above, a twist below,

Run to me, your aunt won’t know.

 

                              ق 

 

Kaf—is like our fe.

On its head two eyes,

Gazing sweetly at you,

Sweeter still at yours true.

 

                              ك 

 

Kef—looks like a spade hoe.

With this hoe, I’ll dig my grave,

Either happiness with you I will find,

Or I’ll lie down in the cold ground.

 

                              ل 

 

Lam—is like an ox’s yoke;

Let us find a carriage,

To escape across the meadows,

And plant our seeds with lam.

You’ll be the flower first in bloom,

And I’ll be weak from your perfume.

 

                              م 

 

Miim—a tadpole is its form,

But my Fata? This is her form: 

In her hair are tassels,

Her black eyes shine like jewels,

Alive with flames,

Searing what they touch.

 

                              ن 

 

Noon—is a bowl of sharbat,

A golden dot floats above it.

My boat will set sail there,

A golden fairy to ensnare.

 

                              و 

 

Vav, you see, is slightly bent,

Like an old man, his life all spent,

Who now stares at you and I:

Vav sends forth a prayer on high,

Asking for God’s blessings.

 

                              ھ 

 

He—hell-bent they dare call me,

Saying last night I stole you away.

Were I to steal you away, my light,

A happy hajduk I would be,

From Sharia I wouldn’t flee.

 

                              لا 

 

Lam-elif is a pair of shears

That cuts the mother’s golden cord 

So your disciple’s neck can be adorned.

Let him  enjoy pain sweet,

And teach your daughter lam-elif.

 

                              ي 

 

Ye—yellow flame, sparks fly;

My dearest  flint,

You start my fire.

These sparks that dart

Strike your disciple’s heart.