Al-Farazdaq and the wolf

Abu ‘Ali al-Hirmazi said: The poet al-Farazdaq halted with his traveling party at al-Ghariyyan at the end of their first night's journey out of Kufa. On one of their camels went the skinned and dressed carcass of a sheep he had just had slaughtered when their departure was made in haste.
      There came a wolf, who tried to wrest the carcass from the back of the camel it was tied to. This threw all the camels of the riding party into a panic, at which al-Farazdaq rose to see the wolf tugging at the meat. He cut off one hoof of the sheep and threw it to the wolf, who picked it up and went a little ways off with it. When the wolf came back, al-Farazdaq cut off another hoof and threw it.
      Morning came, and when the company awakened, al-Farazdaq told them what had happened, and went on to say this about it:

      The loping wolf, whose coat is threadbare. How affable was he!
          I invited him to share my fire when night was late.
      When he came close, I said: "Come closer!
          What's mine has been provided us in common."
      That night, I divided my provisions equally,
          now in the fire's light, now in its smoke.
      He laughed and bared his teeth, and I said to him,
          with the grip of my sword firm in hand:
     "Eat up, wolf! Now that there is trust between us,
          let us be like boon companions.
      You are a gentleman, wolf, but you
          were nursed on the same breast as treachery itself.
              You and treachery are each other's little brother!
      Anyone else you woke to beg a meal from
          would have come at you with arrows, or the point of a spear.
      But even though companions come to blows,
          on the road they must be brothers to each other.
      [After all,] when has God ever put a disunited soul back
          to tread the track of travelers, anywhere they go?"

Verses 1–9 of a 47-verse poem (meter: ṭawīl)
from the Collected Poems of al-Farazdaq
collected by Muhammad ibn Habib (cf.)

Far-fetched ambiguity

We have discussed cases of ambiguity that fail due to some misconception of the poet's. Ambiguity that is far-fetched belongs in a separate category. This type of ambiguity comes about when a condition or attribute pertaining to the explicitly-stated referent is transferred to a referent that is hidden, or vice versa. Without full exercise of the poet's discrimination, comprehension, and taste, this type of ambiguity cannot be achieved, as it was achieved by Shams al-Din Muhammad al-Tilimsani in these verses [corrected against the edition of Shams al-Din's poem by Shakir Hadi Shukr, ditt. Charakh, meter: basīṭ]:

      Many are stripped of their intellect by a certain gazelle fawn
          who abandons them ungently to their passions.
      How many are slain by his come-hither looks
          that fill their hearts with obsession?
      They cast a spell that never gets old,
          ever spinning and speaking of passion

Here the word maghzal "spinning" denotes the action of the spinner's tool called al-mighzal. Neither of these is an affiliated noun [of ghazal "amorous discourse"]. Maghzal in this context makes no sense, but when poets expand the ghazl that is spinning to signify the ghazal that is flirtatious speech, they are forgiven, it being so commonplace.
     And that is how the act of spinning became attributed to the look in someone's eye. If you think about what I'm saying, the truth of it will dawn on you—because the same poet is correct [in his critique of the idiom] in another poem where he said (meter: ṭawīl):

      Your looks are virile weapons—nothing like
          widows at their spinning, as has been claimed

And ‘Abd al-‘Aziz al-Amidi said (meter: sarī‘):

      Fenced by hateful censure
          is the garden of his face.
      The orb of his eye lodges in my heart.
          It is a widow who lives by her spinning

From Breaking Open the Seals on Ambiguity and Polysemic Usage
by al-Khalil ibn Aybak al-Safadi

Bathhouses of Damascus

     The bathhouse of the Guarded Citadel
     The Judge's Bathhouse, by the al-Jabiya Gate
     The bathhouse in the quarter of al-Qassa‘
     The bathhouse along the Hashimites' Lane, which was old and fallen into ruin, becoming known as "The New Bathhouse" after its restoration by the eunuch Hasan
     The Bathhouse of al-Qusayr
     The Bathhouse of the Daughter of the Emir Jarukh is a nice one.
     The Bathhouse of al-Sharif al-‘Aqiqi
     The Bathhouse of the Diwan is a nice one.
     The Hatters' Bathhouse in the al-Fakhriyya bazaar
     The Saddlers' Bathhouse in the Market of ‘Ali
     The new Bathhouse of Nur al-Din, in the Corn Market
     The Bathhouse of Ibn Abi Nasr, behind the little market of Bab al-Saghir
     The bathhouse of Palm Lane by the same Bab al-Saghir, an endowment of Nur al-Din, may God have mercy on his soul
     The bathhouse of al-Hijji [al-Hamawi] on al-Jumahi Lane, near the quarter of al-Maqsallat [< Gk. makella], which fell into ruin and was converted into a house by Ibn Qawwam
     The Bathhouse of Suwayd, by the house of Ibn Manzu
     The Bathhouse of the Staircase, on Staircase Alley by the slaughterhouse
     The Bathhouse of Greengrocers Lane
     The Bathhouse of al-Rahba
     The bathhouse by the Confectioners' Gate [of the Umayyad Mosque], known as the Mu’ayyad Bathhouse
     The bathhouse next to it, known as the Bathhouse of al-Sallariya
     The Bathhouse of Khafif, on Khafif Lane near the Bab al-Faradis
     The Bathhouse of Ibn Kulli, by the Tarkhan's house
     The Coppersmiths' Bathhouse near the portico of Karrus, which sits above a well
     The bathhouse right by it, known as the bathhouse of Ibn Qutayta, which also sits above a well.
     The small bathhouse of the vizier al-Mazdaqani's house
     The Cheesemakers' Bathhouse, on Cheesemakers Lane, behind the ironworkers
     The Bathhouse of Ibn Abi Hisham, on Ropemakers Lane
     The Bathhouse of al-Tamimi in the Watermelon Building, which fell into ruin and was converted into homes
     The bathhouse in [the market of] the Khuraymis, behind the Embroiderers' Market, sits on a well.
     The Embroiderers' Bathhouse, behind the covered acqueduct of the Sunday Market
     The Bathhouse of al-Lu’lu’a (The Pearl), known long ago as the Bathhouse of the Yazidis, used to be nice. It was built on a circular plan, later enlarged, and an aqueduct was dug for it. Now only its circular outline remains.
     The Bathhouse of Ibn Abi Hadid, by the minaret of Fayruz
     The ‘Alawi Bathhouse, behind ‘Alawi Way, in the Church of Mary
     The Bathhouse of the Lane of the Rock sits over a well, and water was diverted to it [later on].
     The bathhouse by the head of the Bridge of Sinan
     The Bathhouse of Khutluba, near the Church of Mary
     The Bathhouse of Ibn ‘Ubada, near the park of Qassam and the portico of Janah
     The Bathhouse of ‘Ali al-Manjaniqi, by the Eastern Gate
     The Bathhouse of Ibn Sasri, by the Gate of Thomas
     The Bathhouse of al-Sharif, by the house of Ibn Buri, fed by an aqueduct and a well

From Ibn ‘Asakir's History of Damascus

Icemen of Damascus

THALLĀJ is the name for a bringer of ice from spots where it is deposited in winter, like a mounded knoll or a crevasse or some such place in barren high country where frost descends during the winter months. They then take it and compress it and lay it away in special storehouses they maintain, where it is prevented from melting away by some means they have adopted, until the summer months when they haul it around and sell it for a considerable price.

The profession of the durma shukr (?) proliferates among us in Syria. More than a hundred loads of ice are sold every day in summer, to licorice and syrup vendors, and for domestic use as well as other purposes. In Syria, our supply never gives out in summer or in winter, with Mt. Hermon covered in snow year round since God created it.

Doctors of science tell us that snow is formed from water that rises from the sea. When it hits the sphere of celestial cold called al-zamharir, it becomes rain, but when played by cold winds it coagulates and falls on countries that are far from the sun, in the nutlike pellets we know as hail, or the delicate flakes that we call snow.

Against high fevers, against mange and other inflammations of the skin, and for digestion systems weakened by the heat, the benefits of ice are huge. It is an aid to fattening every animal except the human. Its effects can be injurious to the aged, the phlegmatic, and those afflicted with chronic dry mouth, unless it is mixed with cloves and honey.

Al-Sayyid ‘Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulusi, God bless and keep his soul, [reported that ‘Abd al-Rahman ibn Ibrahim ibn ‘Abd al-Razzaq] said in its praise (meter: khafīf):

      Ice is water from the fount of life.
          It soothes the heat of fevers,
      cools down livers, and keeps
          stomachs from boiling over.
      Be free from words of doctors and their promises,
          and brush off their advice,
      and smile and sip its waters, and the toughest
          foods will go down nice.
      Cold and white as cotton fluff,
          to the overheated it's like rain to tender plants.
      May we never be without our bringer
          to the ailing of the cure of cures.
      Ice of Damascus takes away more pains
          than ice of any other place.

Here's another charmer of a witty poem on the subject (meter: khafīf):

      Don't despise Damascus when you visit.
          She doesn't hide from you what she's about.
      Pass through in the spring, and
          in your face she'll laugh with flowers.
      Come by in winter, and you'll see
          her snow gobbed on your beard.

In sum: It is a trade by which a lot of people earn their living, praise be to Him Who inspires anything He wants to do anything He wants.

From the Dictionary of Syrian Trades, vol. 1
by Muhammad Sa‘id al-Qasimi (1843–1900)

If on Washington Square @ Sullivan Street

Wednesday 12 November
was the day of the Book of Rain's launch at NYU's
Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern Studies.
For captioned video, please follow this link

Fun and games

Ibn Jinni related this anecdote from the poet Abu ‘Ali al-Sanawbari [altered to Abu ‘Ali al-Farisi in a later report], who said:

At Aleppo, I set out for Sayf al-Dawla's palace. Just outside the city walls, I was met by a masked rider making for me with a long spear! Aiming its tip at my chest, he blocked my movement and nearly hurled me from my mount. Not until he drew closer and loosed his mask did I recognize the grinning countenance of al-Mutanabbi, who recited (a verse from his "Ode on the Reconquest of al-Hadath," meter: ṭawīl):

      At al-Uhaydab we scattered their leaders
          like coins scattered over a bride

     "How do you like my poem?" he asked. "It's good, right?"
     "Damn you!" I said. "You could have killed me."

Ibn Jinni said: [Later on,] I recounted this anecdote to al-Mutanabbi in Baghdad. He didn't deny it, but laughed and declared his admiration for al-Sanawbari, and praised him for spreading the story around.

From The Pearl of the Age by Abu Mansur al-Tha‘alibi

The baker-poet of Basra

For those who care so much about al-Mutanabbi's thievery from Abu Tammam, I shall expose his thievery from a latter-day poet far below Abu Tammam in stature and fame, lacking Abu Tammam's technique, his savvy, and his elevated style: namely, Nasr al-Khubza’aruzzi (The Rice-Bread Baker). Because if you really want to understand how al-Mutanabbi rips off Abu Tammam, you need to stop focusing on just him.

I'm well aware that some reject my view. They don't accept that al-Mutanabbi would copy the baker-poet, preferring Abu Tammam to a contemporary whose verse is ignored by scholars. They care only for imitations of al-Mutanabbi's great predecessor, whose prestige looms in their minds. But al-Mutanabbi's fans only know the sublimity and prosperity of his later years. They didn't know him when he was a total unknown of obscure station, even though this period of his life lasted longer than his riches and high estate, when his name became famous, and the sharpness of his acumen known to all.

The following report came to me from Abu 'l-Qasim ‘Ali ibn Hamza al-Basri, one of his closest friends who knew him best. Abu 'l-Qasim said he was with al-Mutanabbi at the time of his arrival in Kufa from Egypt, and observed his reaction when an old man [who had known the poet as a young man] used him less reverently than al-Mutanabbi was then accustomed to. "Ho, Abu 'l-Tayyib!" the old man said. "When you took leave of us, you had three hundred poems in your catalog. Thirty years later, you're back with just a hundred some-odd poems. Did you go scattering them along the road?"
    "Cut the funny stuff," said al-Mutanabbi.
    "Then tell me what happened to the poem called al-Shāṭiriyya (?), your emulative response to the poem by al-Khubza’aruzzi. You went all the way to Basra to make him hear it! Why have you stricken it now?"
    "That one was a lapse of my early career," said al-Mutanabbi.
    "Do you remember any of it?" I asked the old man, and he recited a few verses for me.
     Abu 'l-Qasim said: A good while later, I found another pretext for asking al-Mutanabbi: "Were you ever in Basra?"
    "Yes," he said.
    "Where'd you stay?" I asked him, and he named a place I knew to be just four or five houses down from al-Khubza’aruzzi's shop. And then I knew the old man was telling the truth.

Abu 'l-Qasim reported also that he asked the baker-poet's neighbors about al-Mutanabbi, and was told that long ago, in his youth, Abu 'l-Tayyib had indeed fraternized with him. But the stans deny that al-Khubza’aruzzi would hold any appeal. Due to the baseness of his poetic art, and his contemporaneity, they don't consider al-Khubza’aruzzi worthy of study, let alone an actual source for al-Mutanabbi. And so they miss al-Mutanabbi's appropriations of his work.

From Fair Judge of the Thief and the Stolen-From: An Exposé of the Plagiarisms of Abu 'l-Tayyib al-Mutanabbi by Ibn Waki‘ al-Tinnisi

Now available

I began reading this text in Cairo, fifteen years ago. Since then, I've talked about it nonstop to everyone I know. At last my translation is out from Wave Books, and you can order your copy now—or, better yet, ask for it at your local bookstore until it appears on shelves there.

Men killed by mules (part two of two)

Muhammad ibn Harun, brother of the gifted poet and writer Sahl ibn Harun, rode a mule that bolted underneath him in a panic. This happened in broad daylight, in the quadrangle by the Gate of ‘Uthman [ibn Abi 'l-‘As, in Basra]. They say that in the commotion, Muhammad's abdomen was lacerated by a saddle-strap, and that he died on the animal's back—and that his mule collided with another, killing both animals together with their riders.

It was reported to me by Sa‘id ibn Abi Malik that a stablehand belonging to one of the land grant holders [of Rabi‘ ibn Yunus, in Basra] used to copulate with his master's she-mule. One day, while he was in the act, the mule retreated backward to increase his thrusting power, until he was pressed into a corner of the stable where he was crushed to death. Another servant came to the stable on some errand and, finding it barred from inside, called out his fellow's name. Hearing no answer, he wrenched open the door to find the stablehand squashed into the corner, with the mule pressing back against him still. At his cry, the mule stepped away, and the body fell down dead.
      Some have opined that, even though the active role in their coupling was played by the stablehand, the true aggressor was the mule, who used to lick her lips every time she saw him, and no one else. If assault wasn't her intent, then he was killed in retribution or self defense.

These verses are from a satire by Qays ibn Yazid, in which he accused Ibn Abi Sabra of fornicating with his own mule (meter: kāmil):

      I'm told the mule you dote on
          gets restless when you don't screw her.
      She lowers her rump and swings it toward you
          when over the manger wall she sees you coming

They say that when the poet al-Farazdaq was captured by a group of Banu Kulayb, they brought a she-ass and said, "Either fornicate with this animal, as you accused ‘Atiyya ibn al-Khatafi [father to the poet Jarir] of doing, or we kill you." Al-Farazdaq said, "In that case, bring me the rock ‘Atiyya stood on when he shtupped her, so I can accomplish the same." They all laughed at his wit, and let him go.

Another man killed by mules was Zayd ibn Hulq, whose job it was to train them. His sons are famous at Basra. Also killed by mules were Muhammad ibn Sa‘id ibn Hazim al-Mazini and his uncle, ‘Amr ibn Haddab, killed by a mule at Shushtar. Al-Muhallab ibn Abi Sufra died on muleback at al-Talaqan. Iyas ibn Hubayra al-‘Abshami, who once paid bloodwit, also died on the back of a mule, a mean one.

From The Book of Mules by al-Jahiz

Leaky roof

Abu Ahmad said: ‘Abd Allah Niftawayh said: I heard these verses from Muhammad ibn Yazid al-Mubarrad (meter: wāfir):

      I dread the night when leaks flood in and dump their worries,
          harrassing me until the break of day.
      Unwinking nights, thanks to my house
          when skies above are like a lovelorn eye.
      That is, it was a house when clouds grew thick.
          By the time the clouds moved on, it was a road hazard.
      The hearts of all my neighbors fill with pity over me
          at the appearance of the faintest cloud of rain.

The verses are by al-‘Abbas al-Mashuq, who was called "The Lovelorn" (al-mashūq) after the namesake verse:

    ...when skies above are like a lovelorn eye

[Abu Ahmad said:] These verses by Dik al-Jinn were recited to me by someone else (meter: sarī‘):

      I've never spent a night, my brothers, and neither have you,
          as bad as the one I had last night.
      Every inch of my house
          has a leak streaming down from above

By al-Sanawbari (meter: wāfir):

      What a house I stay in! with a leak for my bunkmate,
          who shows no sign of ever moving out.
      When heaven weeps out of one eye,
          my ceilings weep back out of one thousand

And Ibn al-Mu‘tazz said (meter: ṭawīl):

      When I tell about the rain that fell I don't exaggerate,
          by the Lord Who into souls art the All-Seeing!
      My house's roofing sags to the earth we trample.
          Its walls kneel and bow down to the ground.

And Ibn al-Rumi said (meter: ṭawīl):

      Thr roof above me has me sleepless, looming over me
          like a stormcloud gushing.
      When its clay [takes on water and] weighs it down,
          its edges creak like chirping crickets.

From A Well-Tended Treasury of Literature by Abu Ahmad al-‘Askari

Three poems by David Larsen

appear in R&R, the online journal of Relegation Books (Falls Church, VA). Thanks, Joseph!

Aiden Milligan, "Mon the Minks!" (2024). Acrylic on canvas, 45 x 30cm     

Men killed by mules (part one of two)

Among those killed by their own mules was Khalid, the son of ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan, may God be pleased with him. Khalid was at a spot called al-Suqya when he said: "Today is Friday! If I don't join the community for midday prayers behind the Commander of the Faithful, it will be a terrible offense." He had a mule unmatched for speed, and for seventy miles he rode it to Medina, falling dead on arrival at the hour of prayer. But the mule survived.

Another man killed by his mule was al-Mundhir ibn al-Zubayr, who was called Abu ‘Uthman. He rode a mule with a sorrel coat into battle against a battalion of Syria [in the Second Civil War of Islam], after his brother ‘Abd Allah ibn al-Zubayr harangued and goaded him into it. When his mule heard the clash of arms, it bolted for high ground, carrying al-Mundhir wide of his companions. And the Syrian fighters went after him. "Run, Abu ‘Uthman!" cried ‘Abd Allah. "My father and mother be your ransom!" But the mule stumbled, and the Syrians caught up to him and killed him.
      Yazid ibn al-Mufarrigh referred to this event in his invective against ‘Ubayd Allah ibn Ziyad (meter: kāmil):

      On any given day, Ibn al-Zubayr was the better fighter,
          but on the day he urged al-Mundhir into war,
      what distinguished him was the patient endurance
          of a meanfisted man holding short on a sale

The poet ‘Abbas al-Mashuq rode mounted on a mule behind a young man who promised him a donation of clothing. Then the mule balked, and the man was thrown to the ground and broke both femurs. At this, al-Mashuq said (meter: ramal):

      I would give hand and foot
          for your injury [to have befallen me instead of you].
      It wasn't the mule's fault!
          The fault was my own penury.

Another man thrown by his mule was the poet al-Bardakht, by name ‘Ali ibn Khalid, who showered Jarir ibn ‘Atiyya with invective verse. "What invective poet is this?" Jarir asked. "Al-Bardakht," they told him.
     "And what, pray tell, is a bardakht?" he asked. "It means someone with free time," they said.
     "Well I'm not the first to put him to work," Jarir said.
      The mule that threw Bardakht was granted him by Zayd al-Dabbi, on whom Bardakht said (meter: basīṭ):

      To the mule that almost killed me, I say:
         "No thanks to Zayd and his donations!"
      Gold and shining silver he kept back when I came asking,
          gifting me instead a portion of death

It was Bardakht who satirized Zayd for the newness of his wealth. At a celebration of Zayd's reign [as governor of Khorasan], he came up to him and said (meter: wāfir):

      As long as I live, I'll never greet Zayd
          with the greeting reserved for a ruler.

"I could care less, by God!" said Zayd. Bardakht said:

      Do you remember when a sheep's hide was your blanket
          and for sandals you had camel hide?

"So what, by God!" said Zayd. Bardakht said:

      Praise be to Him Who made you regent,
          and assigned you a throne for your seat

"Yes! Praise be to Him," said Zayd, and Bardakht took his leave, having distinguished himself at the encounter.

From The Book of Mules by al-Jahiz

An ass is being beaten

     Hard as a chemist's pestle is the ass they beat on.
     Rinsed in his own piss, and gagging on it
         [if pools of piss be all there is to drink],
     his forelegs pebbled like a pox victim's hide,
     he lunges at aggressive rivals, and when his bite misses,
     his clashing teeth chirp like a sparrow.
     In this ass's stable, the yearlings are pregnant.
     But do you know the abode in the heights of Dhu 'l-Qur
     defaced by dust on the bawling winds?
     Blanketing sands are what's left of the place
     gone bleak and abandoned to the weather,
     only an outline where their trench was
     long ago, and it was a joy to the eye
     that beheld the dark-eyed beauties there abiding    

From The Book of Lexical Rarities of Abu Zayd al-Ansari (meter: rajaz)