The Young Tiger

In the environs of Basrah there was an island of excessively pleasant
climate, where limpid waters flowed on every side and life-bestowing
zephyrs breathed around.

From its excessive exquisiteness they called it the "Joy-expanding
Wilderness," and a Tiger bore sway there, such that from dread of him
fierce lions could not set foot in that retreat.

He had lived much time in that wild, according to his wish, and had
never seen the form of disappointment in the mirror of existence. He
had a young one whose countenance made the world seem bright to him,
and his intention was that when that young one came to years he would
commit that solitude to his charge, and pass the rest of his life at
ease in the corner of retirement. The blossom of his wish had not yet
expanded on the stem of desire when the autumn of death gave the fruit
of the garden of his existence to the mind of destruction.

And when this Tiger was seized by the claw of the Lion, Death, several
wild beasts who for a long time entertained a desire for that
wilderness made a unanimous movement and set about appropriating it.
The young Tiger saw that he possessed not the strength to resist. He
went voluntarily into exile, and amongst the wild beasts a huge contest
arose. A blood-spilling Lion overcame all the others and brought the
island into his own possession, and the young Tiger, having for some
time endured distress in the mountains and wastes, conveyed himself to