Jewish Parody and Allegory in Medieval Hebrew Poetry in Spain r 229unquenchable fires of desire and reciprocal cruelty: “Both desire and war
kill! Woe to warriors and woe to lovers,” says Sahar (l. 370). Kima, who
has tortured Sahar with the arrows of love, continues to play hide-and-
seek with him. This love-and-hate relationship continues much too long
(ll. 390–91), as Sahar asks Kima if this is characteristic of lovers (te ̔udat
’ahuvim). Are strife and conflict (riv u-madon, ll. 394–96) prerequisites
for composing love poetry? Adding fuel to the unquenchable fire of love
is Kima’s seemingly innocent request of Sahar to explain to her the differ-
ence between the pangs of love (dodim) and friendship (torat ha-yedidut).
The reader can sense Sahar’s feeling of despair as he admits that a beloved
speaks no truth and that love lacks understanding and knowledge and is
unable to distinguish between good or bad; such is the lesson the lover
takes with him to the grave (ll. 427–38).
As the two lovers continue to agonize over their dilemma on the mean-
ing of love, a maid servant informs Kima of her father’s imminent arrival.
Kima’s fear of her father forces her to hide Sahar, but the king finds him
and assaults him. She assures her father that their love was chaste. “He
didn’t touch me, and I didn’t touch him... we were both clothed in righ-
teousness... observant of the commandments (misva) and reverence for
our reputations” (ll. 472–75). The king ultimately gives his blessing to the
couple, calling Sahar “a man in whom God’s spirit abides” (ll. 517–18),
but not before asking Kima why they so desire each other. Kima details
both the torments and thrills of their love (ll. 483–84) in a brilliantly con-
structed and lengthy poem, similar in style to the Arabic-language qasida
(ll. 485–514).^68 After the father’s violent death (the reader is not told how),
Sahar is enthroned in Aleppo in his stead, and following a year of wedded
bliss he and Kima begin another type of duet, quarrelling and mollify-
ing, separating and then reconciling, proving the adage that the road to
true love is rarely smooth (ll. 522–23). When, as a married man, he is no
longer challenged by Kima’s flirtations and his mission of pursuing her,
the handsome Sahar (l. 6) turns into a replica of his own tyrannical father
(l. 7), taunting Kima, tormenting her for her defiance (ll. 524–26). Kima
reminds her husband of their pure, spiritual love, suppressing its consum-
mation until they were married, reproving him for accusing her of Eve’s
primordial offence (l. 528) and repeating the ancients’ sins, bewailing the
fact that “lovers (hosheqim) have become oppressors” ( ̔osheqim, l. 544).
As they continue this state of “battle” and contrition, Kima says, “If there’s