384 POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



A net for fishes there is spread, 



The moth's wings burn in bright flame hot ; 



A sprightly maiden wouldst thou wed, 

 But thee the maiden chooseth not. 



The Shair. — The sha'ir is vciy different from the pantunj the lat- 

 ter is lyric, the former epic in its nature; the sJia'ir may be heroic or 

 romantic, the pantun never. However, it employs the same measure 

 as the pantun, but all the lines of each stanza rhyme, instead of by 

 pairs, as in the quatrains of the lyric verse. It is to the sha'ir that we 

 must look for the really great works of Malay poetry, where some are 

 bold enough to declare we may find passages of Homeric beauty. The 

 most famous works of this nature are Radin Mantri,Kin Tamhouhan, 

 and Bidasari. The first two of these tell the story of the love of a 

 prince of the royal house of Nigara for a maiden of his mother's 

 court. It is a beautiful tale, abounding in parts of striking elo- 

 quence and pathos, and the characters are strong and well portrayed. 



The Bidasari is the longest poem in the language, and typically 

 Malayan. Its author is unknown, likewise the time and place of its 

 composition. The only hint as to the writer is in the opening lines: 



"... Listen to this story of the history of a king in a province 

 of Kambayat. A fakir has turned the narrative into a poem." 



And again at the conclusion, where it says: 



" This jDoem is weak and faulty because my knowledge is imper- 

 fect. My heart was troubled — for that reason have I written it. I 

 have not made it long, because I was sad ; but I have finished it and 

 thereby obtained many blessings." 



Internal evidence, however, indicates that the poem is old, of a 

 time long before the Europeans first came to the East, possibly before 

 the Mohammedan conquest. It shows plainly the influence of Hindu 

 theology, yet in the customs and scones described, and the mode of 

 life and the manner of thinking, it is essentially Malay, and so 

 worthy, perhaps, of a somewhat extended notice. 



"There was once a king, a sultan, handsome, learned, perfect; 

 he was of the race of noble kings; he caused the land of merchants 

 and strangers to be swallowed up. From what people of his time 

 say of him he was a valorous prince who had never yet been thwarted. 

 But to-morrow and the day after to-morrow are uncertain." Such is 

 the beginning of Canto I, as given in the French translation by Louis 

 de Backer. The king marries, but just as joy and happiness are to 

 be his, a grifiinlike garuda sweeps down upon his land and ravages 

 it. Terrified, the monarch deserts his throne, takes his royal con- 

 sort and flees for his life. On the flight the queen gives birth 

 to a child, which, however, must be deserted, much to the mother's 

 aricf. 



I 



