We are informed by Ahmad ibn Muhammad al-ʿArudi that Ahmad ibn Yahya attested these verses on the authority of al-Bahili (meter: kāmil):
Two confederates never seen together in one house,
each in movement for a set length of time.
Two separate colors in one sewn wrapper,
buffeted by winds and rains.
This describes Night and Day.
From The Ornament of the Learned Gathering
by Abu ʿAli Muhammad al-Hatimi
Live by what you will. Weakness does not preclude success.
A man of expertise can still be duped.
A man who cannot learn from fate cannot be taught by people,
not even if they take him by the scruff.
What are hearts but inborn tempers?
How many hate their former friends?
Lend a hand in any land while you sojourn there.
Never say: "But I am alien to this place."
In favor of alliance with a stranger from afar,
nearby relations are sometimes severed.
And as long as a man may live, he is in denial.
Long life is his punishment.
From the Mu‘allaqa of ‘Abīd ibn al-Abraṣ
A Bedouin passed by a pontoon bridge, then gave a versified description of it unlike anything by anyone I know (meter: basīṭ):
Along the corniche, friends linger and disperse
by the Tigris post where the flood is spanned by a bridge of boats.
Viewed from one side, it's like a string of Bactrian camels
flanking each other crosswise in their tethers,
some followed by their young, some adolescents
treading dung, and some that are fair old milchers.
No coming home from travels for these camels.
Any time they move, their steps are short,
bound by ropes of palm dyed different colors
and fixed with pegs of iron in their sides.
One of the Unparalleled Poems from the Book of Prose and Poetry by
Ibn Abi Tahir Tayfur (d. 893 CE)
On the poet Abu 'l-‘Ibar al-Hashimi (d. 866 CE), by Sinan Antoon,
The Poetics of the Obscene in Premodern Arabic Poetry: Ibn al-Hajjaj
and Sukhf (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014), 40:
189 From the Book of Songs
In his Epistle of the Two Luminaries, which is [subtitled] "From a dejected lover, to one whose love is reciprocated by another," and begins with the words: "The earth lies before the merciful king, the sultan of beauty, the lion of combat...." ‘Ala’ al-Din [Taqi al-Din] ibn al-Maghribi said (meter: majzū’ al-ramal):
The Nile comes and goes.
My love goes on and on.
Nothing I say tomorrow will be enough.
Sometimes love is too much.
Every heart but mine
gets the love it wants.
I am the lone unfortunate
going steady with rejection.
Then ‘Ala’ al-Din [Taqi al-Din] said: I am the lone unfortunate who pissed on a plate of fried doughnuts, dribbling out a vinegar stream. I crucified Iblis with his own hammer, and left him sagging and singing "Tra-la-la-la!" as he flapped his wings like a chicken (meter: majzū’ al-ramal):
Tra-la-la-la, tra-la-la!
You, with the eyes of a little gazelle!
God have mercy on my slayer.
Me it is no boast to kill.
From The Register of Ardent Love by Ibn Abi Hajala
‘Arqal was a famous thief of the Banu Sa‘d. Along with Abu Hardaba and Mālik ibn al-Rayb, he was a thief who was a poet. His name comes from the verb ta‘arqala, which means "to be thrown into chaos," and in vulgar speech it is much in use; ‘irqāla is "one who sows chaos."
In the early Islamic period, there was an Arab highwayman of the desert called ‘Ujayl ("Speedy"), for his callousness. By my estimation, he was active when Ziyad was governor.
From The Book of Name Derivations by Ibn Durayd
Zaveh, a village in Khorasan, was home to the famous Qotb al-Din Heydar, a most remarkable man. In summertime he would walk through fire, and in winter plunge himself in ice, and throughout the surrounding territories people came to observe these marvels. All who beheld him in the act were struck by a compulsion to renounce the world, and adopted felt clothes and went barefoot. It often happened, I have heard, that lords and princes would come, and hurl themselves from their horses at the sight of him, and put on felts. And I have seen Turkish soldiers in the flower of their fighting strength who wore the felt and went barefoot, and called themselves companions of Heydar.
Some Sufis say the shaykh was seen one day atop a high dome, too high to be scaled, and how he had climbed it was baffling to everyone. Then, on making his descent, he simply walked down as if treading level ground.
At the time the Tatars came to Zaveh, in the year 618 (= 1221 CE), the shaykh was still alive.
From The Monuments of Inhabited Lands of al-Qazwini
I was told by a cousin of Dawud al-Ta’i that he inherited twenty dinars from his father, which he spent on food and almsgiving at the rate of one dinar per year for twenty years. And he inherited a house, whose maintenance he disregarded. When one part of it fell in, he would move to another, until a corner of the house was all that remained.
Dawud al-Ta’i inherited from his mother a sum of money and a house, and he moved from room to room inside it as they fell apart around him, paying no heed to their maintenance, until every room in the house was used up. Of the money he inherited from his father, he spent all but one dinar, which paid for his winding sheet.
Dawud al-Ta’i inherited twenty dinars from a patroness of his, which sufficed him until his death twenty years later.
‘Abd al-Rahman ibn ‘Amr said: I was asked by Muhammad ibn ‘Amir whether he ought to abandon the merchant's trade. Muhammad ibn Nu‘man and I advised that it would be better for him not to. He then wrote to his brother in Baghdad, telling him of our advice. His brother wrote back, saying:
"Your confrères have advised you poorly. When Dawud al-Ta’i sold a piece of property that belonged to him, he was told: 'If you invested the proceeds in commerce, then something would accrue to you.' Dawud declined, saying: 'The income would run out before I do, or my life would run out before it.' So he spent the money dinar by dinar, and at his death just one dinar was left, which paid for his winding sheet."
‘Abd Allah ibn Salih ibn Muslim al-‘Ijli said: I paid a call on Dāwūd al-Ta’i as he was suffering from the illness he died of, and in his house was nothing but an earthenware crock lined with pitch, containing some dry bread. He had another vessel for his ablutions, and lying in the dust was a large brick of Shahanjani mud. This was his cushion and his pillow, and in his house was not one woven mat of any size.
From the Ornament of God's Friends of Abu Nu‘aym al-Isbahani
The Angel of Death paid a call on Solomon. During his visit, he fell to staring at a man of Solomon's court. After he left, the man asked, "Who was that?"
"That," said Solomon, "was the Angel of Death, peace be upon him."
"He seemed to be staring, as if it were me he sought!"
"What do you desire, then?" asked Solomon.
"I want the wind to carry me away and set me down in India!" he said. So Solomon called for a wind to whirl the man there.
[A little later,] the Angel of Death came back to Solomon, peace be upon him. Solomon said to him: "You sure were staring at one of my courtiers!"
The Angel of Death said, "But I was surprised at seeing him here with you! when I was on my way to snatch his soul from him, in India."
From The Book of Asceticism by Ahmad ibn Hanbal (cf.)
I wish I had dogs for neighbors
instead of everyone I see.
Dogs in their packs accept guidance.
Human badness will never be tamed.
Tend your soul and keep it secluded.
Life in seclusion can only be praised.
From predations of wild beasts there is refuge.
From human predation, nowhere to flee.
Wild beasts don't bother most people.
From human harm, no mortal is free.
Al-Fudayl ibn ‘Iyad said: "If you see a lion, don't let it alarm you. If you see a son of Adam, hike up your robes and flee."
When the wolf howls, my feelings are friendly.
What startle me are human voices.
I was so awake to danger that when a dove flew by,
I said, "Is that a single enemy, or a scouting party?"
If I hear: "It gets better," I say: "It's a trick!"
If I hear: "It gets worse," I say "True! Better get ready!"
I have it on al-Aburi's authority that the jurist Mansur ibn Isma‘il said (meter: mujtathth):
People are the deep sea
Distance from them is a boat
I advise you to look
After your miserable soul
From The Book of Isolation by Abu Sulayman al-Khattabi
I heard Sufyan al Thawri say: "The best thing for a person is a bolt-hole to retreat into."
The Messenger of God, God's blessings and peace be upon him, said: "For hermitages, Muslims have their homes."
Talha ibn ‘Ubayd Allah said: "The most blameless thing a man can do is sit in his home."
Abu 'l-Darda’ said: "An excellent hermitage for a Muslim man is his home, [wherein] he curbs his tongue, his sex, and his gaze. Beware of social gatherings and marketplaces, with their frivolity and nonsense."
Makhul al-Shami said: "If society is where one gains distinction, then peace is gained in isolation."
Abu 'l-Darda’ encountered a man who had withdrawn from humanity and lived completely by himself. "God be implored," he exclaimed, "on your behalf! Whatever induced you to withdraw from human society?"
"My terror lest my faith be stripped from me, without me knowing," said the man.
Abu 'l-Darda’ said, "In all the host of Muslims, are there a hundred who fear like you?" He went on [repeating the question, each time] lowering the number until he got to ten. At this, the man said:
"There is one man, in Syria." That man was Shurahbil ibn al-Simt.
From The Book of Isolation and Seclusion of ‘Abd Allah ibn Abi 'l-Dunya
It is said that Rabi‘a fasted for seven nights and days without sleeping, engrossed in prayers all night long. Her hunger had passed all limits, when through the door of her house came someone with a dish of food. Rabi‘a accepted the dish and went to get a lamp. When she came back, the cat had spilled the dish. "I'll go get a jug," she said, "and break my fast [with water]." But when she came back with the jug, the lamp was out. Her next intention was to drink water in the dark. Then the jug slipped from her hand and broke.
Rabi‘a let out such a groan that it was feared lest fire would consume half the house. She said: "Dear God, in my helplessness, what are you doing with me?"
Into her hearing came a voice: "Beware! lest you wish Me to confer the world's blessings on you, and empty your heart of desperate care for Me. Desperate care and worldly blessings can never come together in the same heart. You, O Rabi‘a, have your will, and I have Mine, and in one heart your will and I can never come together."
Rabi‘a said: "On hearing these words pronounced, I cut short my hopes, and turned my heart so far from this world that, for thirty years, I have carried out each prayer as if I knew it were my last. And ever since that day, I have cut my head off from Creation, for fear lest someone come to distract me from Him.
"I said: 'God, be You my occupation, that I may be occupied by no one else.'"
From the Memorial of the Saints of Farid al-Din ‘Attar
