Rafiq-Ayman and the Man-Who-Reads-The-Stars

An Original Arabian Tale


Rafiq-Ayman was born with the moon between the earth and the sun, and the first sound out of his mouth was laughter. His mother went to pray at the temple to the great and all-powerful Allah, her lips against the ground, giving up her thanks for her child.

In the fourth week of his eighth year of life, Rafiq-Ayman was approached by a Man-Who-Reads-The-Stars. His mother was in great awe, and offered many rich foods and good wine at his feet, to gain his good opinion. He blessed her with his hands on her head and presented prayers to heaven before her.

And he bent before Rafiq-Ayman, who was trembling with fear, and spoke these words to him: "O my son! There has been a sign among the heavens that you are of great strength and will save many from an unwanted death."

Rafiq-Ayman did not understand, and he fell prostrate onto the ground and wept. His tears wet the ground and created mud which soon covered his hands and his face.

"Arise, O my son," said the Man-Who-Reads-The-Stars. "Arise and do not weep."

Rafiq-Ayman arose and stood once again, his features much covered with the mud of the earth.

The Man-Who-Reads-The-Stars touched a finger to the dirt on the lad's face. "Just as your tears have created this mud on your face, so your tears will move the hardest of hearts. May it be well with you, O my son."


It was many summers later when Rafiq-Ayman's mother died and was buried under the red sand. There was a great crying in the city, and many tore their clothes and sprinkled themselves with white ashes. Rafiq-Ayman stood still beside the grave and no words came from his mouth.

And in that time, there came a imam who was cruel and unjust, and many were killed under his command. Those who lived in the village with Rafiq-Ayman were greatly distressed, and some began to lose their minds and lie screaming, with wildly rolling eyes, in the dirt outside the village gates.

The elders of the village could not use their tongues to soften the heart of the cruel leader, and all seemed lost. They at last came to Rafiq-Ayman and pleaded with him to try and convince the imam to be merciful to the children and women of the village and not to let young and beautiful blood run red in the streets. Rafiq-Ayman bowed his head, and said, "I am young and foolish; but I will try, as hope is flown away as the birds of winter."

And so Rafiq-Ayman went before the imam and bowed with his forehead touching the ground. "O mighty one," he said.

The imam looked down at him, and his eyes were hard and lacking of any feeling. "Arise, dirt of the earth, and speak before I have my men run your chest through with spears."

"O mighty one," Rafiq-Ayman said. "May the gods have mercy on you! May the great Allah himself resist from burning you with his anger!"

The imam was scornful. "I do the bidding of the gods and of none other."

"No, O mighty one. You have been deceived by the devils of the earth. Listen! Can you hear? The voices of a thousand babes are wailing in the street! Take up a bowl of water! Do you see? The blood of those who worshipped you as a god has contaminated even the water you drink! The gods are not pleased with you."

The imam raised his hand to command his men to stab Rafiq-Ayman. But Rafiq-Ayman raised his eyes to the heavens and cried in a loud voice, "O almighty Allah!" And tears fell from his eyes and wet the floor before the imam's feet.

The imam was startled, and as he watched the tears of sorrow fall from Rafiq-Ayman's eyes, he began to soften inside. His heart was torn by those tears like acid on stone, and his soul wept. He rose to his feet and his hand came to his side.

"Abdul," he said to Rafiq-Ayman (Abdul is the name that means "servant). "Arise and send yourself back to the village. I see now that I have wronged the gods and the almighty Allah. For each drop of blood that runs in the streets, I will give bread and wine to the poorest. For each body that lies in heaps outside the walls, I will repay with coins and gold. May it be well with you, O my son."

And Rafiq-Ayman returned to the village and was from then on known as the Man-Who-Cried.