Ig I’m standing ill; if trutold, I’ve been galloping for turies; I’ve passed over plains, fougtles, carried off ters of so be irelessly page by page from story to ory, from ory to legend and from book to book; I’ve appeared in tless stories, fables, books and battles; I’ve apanied invincible astic armies; I’ve galloped from campaign to campaign orious sultans, and as a result, I’ve appeared in tless illustrations.

        feel, you ask, to be painted so often?

        Of course, I’m proud of myself. Yet, I also question ed in all cases. It is evident from tures t I’m perceived differently by everyoill, I rong sey, a unity to trations.

        My miniaturist friends ing a story retly, and from it, I learhe king of

        to ter of tian Doge. , but t, “ if tian is poor and er ugly?” to reassure    artist to paint tian Doge’s daugy and belongings. tians could care less about gross indecy: t only ters to tist, but ted infidel artist could depict a maiden or a    you’d be able to pick eit of a croures from Venice, p allion, suddenly aroused, attempted to mount ttractive mare in ting, and t trol before royed ture and its frame h his huge member.

        t it    ty of tian mare t allion—triking—but t of taking a particular mare and painting a picture in    likeness. Noion arises: Is it sinful to be depicted as t mare    is, like a real mare? In my case, as you    see, ttle differeures of horses.

        Actually, ticular attention to tion, tand t I am indeed unique. But t features point to turist ed me, not to my uniqueness as a    tly like me. I’m simply t exists in a miniaturist’s imagination.

        Looking at me, observers frequently say, “Good God, ually praising tist, not me. All    distinct, and turist, above all, ougo knohis.

        take a close look, even a given stallion’s a resemble anot be afraid, you    exami up close, and even take it in your s own.

        Nourists illustrate all ed by Allaest of all Creators. ake pride in simply rendering tens of t ever truly looking at us? I’ll tell you ing to depict t God perceives, not t t t amount to cy, t is—Alla it saying t I could do tists     tists ing t s in tion is God’s ists     blind miniaturists dra tting ting h Allah?

        tyles of ters aren’t blaspe te, t in

        keeping    my Erzurumi bret misua displeases me t Frankis to pious modesties, t t uand t t     Jesus is also tect us. I bee so aggravated by t if I ever came across one, I’d give him a good mule kick.

        Still, I’m sick of being incorrectly depicted by miniaturists o    me at a gallop e time. t a    runs like a rabbit. If one of my fs is for. trary to ed in battle illustrations, t a    extends one f like a curious dog, leaving ted on tence raced ical stencil ty times back to back. e    t our feet uesque stand    around elegantly, tings.    our eating, drinking, sting and sleeping? o depict t of mine? On ticular, love to stare at it, and    this as well?

        t once upon a time tal fear t o Isfa out of t cell, yard narden, for ty-one years. After ted time o, t y me a ures of t t    beautiful gray steed in t rils like mine-ss, a s duller trations and a brutised t er tal slauged forty days, all t Exalted Alla refrain from meting out ice: tsoever, and ed and, in t. Let t: As all tories ion of aken its revenge.
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