September 22, 2020

Let's have a cat poem

Concerning mice and cats, Abu 'l-Shamaqmaq said (meter: khafīf):

    On the emptiness of my home, and empty
         sacks and jars where meal should be, this is my poem.
    Formerly, it was not desolate but guest-friendly,
        prosperous, and in a flourishing state.
    But now it seems that mice avoid my house
        to refuge in a nobler steading.
    The flies of my house and the crawling bugs
        all beg to hit the road, away from where
    the cat abides, and looks from side to side,
        and no mouse does it spy the whole year through.
    Its head swims up and down from extremity of hunger,
        and a life of bitterness and vexation.
    I said to the cat, when I saw its head hanging,
        downcast with its gut aflame,
  "Hang in there, kitty! best cat by far
        my eyes have ever seen!"
  "How can I hang on?" said the cat. "I cannot stay
        in a house that's empty as a wild ass's belly."
    I said, "Go on to the neighbor’s house,
        the one who brings home the fruits of commerce."
    Meanwhile, spiders fill my pots and pans
        and all my vessels with their spinning,
    and off with the dogs, in the grip of dog-fever, 
        my dog runs mad astray.

From the Book of Animals of al-Jahiz

August 7, 2011

Medieval cat poem

Abu ‘Amir al-Fadl ibn Isma‘il al-Tamimi al-Jurjani (mid-to-late 5th century A.H./11th c. CE) described his cat (meter: khafīf):

         I have a cat whose foot-pads I dye with henna
             before I put henna on my own newborns.
         Then I tie cowrie shells to her collar
             to repel the harm of evil eyes.
         Each day, before I feed my family, I see that she gets
             our choicest meats and purest waters.
         The playful thing. When she sees
             my face contorted in a frown,
         sometimes she sings, sometimes she dances,
             sparing no exertion for my diversion’s sake.
         I care nothing for the fire’s warmth when she lies with me
             in the chill of winter's longest nights.
         When I give her scratches, she gives me licks
             with a tongue toothed like the surface of a file.
         If I avoid her, she fawns on me,
             wheedling with her little high-pitched moans.
         If I give her trouble she will show me her claws,
             a sight that gives the eyes no pleasure.
         When she plays with a mouse, she is at her saltiest
             for she puts him through "humiliating punishment." *
         When he faints from terror, she busies herself
             in batting him awake with a left and a right.
         She teases him with feigned inattention, then
             swoops like a falcon when he tries to creep away.
         Just when he dares hope for peace from her,
             those hopes are dashed with a serpent’s liveliness.
         In this way do the decrees of fate ruin a man
             and finish him with a cut to the aorta,
         just when, amid the lively gathering,
             he takes the cup of destiny from a server.

*Qur'an 2:90, 3:178, 4:14 et passim.

From The Merits of the Housecat by Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti

June 20, 2017

Another cat poem

Abu 'l-Faraj al-Isbahani (d. 967 CE), author of The Book of Songs, complained of mice and described a cat (meter: khafīf):

    On deadly watchmen with arching backs I call for aid
        against a host with tiny teeth and whiplike tails.
    Created for malevolence, nastiness and ruin,
        their degradation dates back to Creation itself.
    The holes they bore in ceilings, walls and floors
        are as galling as bodily ulcers.
    Anything comestible, they consume it.
        Nothing drinkable is safe.
    And they know all about gnawing clothes.
        My heart is pitted by the holes they gnaw.
    What brings my anguish to a pause has Turkish whiskers
        and a blue coat with leopard spots.
    In make and manners he is a lion of the thicket.
        A lion of the thicket! think all who spy him.
    Into corners of the room and along the ceiling,
        his gaze is fixed on every [mouse’s] door.
    He keeps his claws in scabbards, up until
        the landing of his pounce upon the prey.
    When he voids himself, it is in private.
        None know where it happens but the dirt.
    Some folks play dress-up games with him, put jewelry
        on him, and with henna dye him first and last.
    Sometimes he struts in bridegroom’s finery,
        other times they doll him like a bride.
    Such a lovable companion! and worthy as a friend
        above the common run of friendship, and beyond it.

From The Merits of the Housecat by Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti

April 22, 2010

Al-Jahiz on inarticulateness

Animals are divided into “articulate” and “inarticulate,” though not in the sense those words are generally used in Arabic. They are so called in the way that “silent” is said without misunderstanding for what is not at all silent, and “speaking” is said for what never raises its voice. Whereas people speak with each other when they come together, animals use bellowing, bleating, braying, neighing, yodeling, mooing, whooping, howling, barking, crowing, meowing, grunting, screeching, hissing, yelping, clucking, croaking, roaring, razzing, rattling and hissing.

There are other instances [of words, like "inarticulate," that have more than one antithesis], such as dhukūr which means “males” as opposed to females, like the merchants’ caravan [in its separation] from the women’s caravan. Dhikr [pl. dhukūr] is furthermore what we call “the upper-handed” of any two parties that come face to face or take [their leave?] of one another.

The articulate animal is the human being. Inarticulate is every animal whose voice is only understood by other members of its genus. We, I aver, understand many of the desires, needs and aims of the horse and the ass, the dog and the cat and the camel, just as we understand the desire of the baby in his cradle, knowing (and it is an exalted form of knowledge) that its crying signifies something different from what is signified by its laughter. Also we understand that the horse’s whinnying when it sees its feed-bag is different from its whinnying when it sees a mare, and that the cat’s call to the tomcat is different from her call to her young. And examples of this are many.

Human beings are articulate, even if they express themselves in the language of Persia or India or Greece. The Greek understands clear Arabic no better than an Arab understands the Greek's outlandish speech. In this sense, all people may be said to be “articulate.” When they say “inarticulate,” distinguishing it not from “articulate” but from “Arab,” they do not have this meaning in mind. Rather, they mean that the “inarticulate” man does not speak Arabic, and that an Arab cannot understand him. And Kuthayyir says:

   Fa-būrika mā a'ta 'bnu Laylā bi-niyyatin
      wa-sāmitu mā a'ta 'bnu Laylā wa-nātiquhu


   In what Ibn Laylā gives off there is no way for you to learn his intention.
      What Ibn Laylā gives out is of two kinds: silent, and vocal.


When they say: “He came bringing what is loud and what is silent,” the “silent” refers to [inanimate goods] like gold and silver, and the “loud” refers to any animal. Here it means he spoke, and fell silent. “Silent” refers to anything [in the way of capital] excluding live animals.

Considering what is in the world, we find its existence to be [the product of God’s] sagacity, and of [the products of] that sagacity we find two kinds: the thing that has no concept of sagacity or what it entails, and the thing that does conceive of sagacity and what it entails. The thing that conceives and the thing that has no concept are equally signs of [God’s] sagacity, but they are different from the standpoint that one is a sign that lacks the power of inference, and the other is a sign that has that power. As signs which lack the power of inference, animals (with the exception of people) are aligned with inanimate matter. To be a sign that also has the power to infer from signs was given to people. A connector was then made to be their guide to the various aspects of inference from signs and what results from inference. And that is what they call “intelligibility” [al-bayān].

The Book of Animals I 31-33

February 26, 2024

Foul weather friend

Al-Asma‘i transmitted this long poem rhymed in rā’, in sarī‘ meter [scanned more helpfully as rajaz by Badr al-Din al-‘Ayni], where each line is rhymed in the diminutive ending, signifying in most cases what is paltry and small in quantity:

                At Dhu Sudayr, the misery
                    of all who stay at al-Ghumayr
                oppresses Layla in her robe,
                    curled like a hedgehog in its hole.
                Shivers break out on my spine
                    and my chest is quivering
                like a cat who warns her kitten.
                    Parched out in the wind and rain
                and frigid cold that's no mere chill,
                    from midday to the wee small hours,
                lit barely by a slip of moon
                    (the month is only four days in),
                I fret and toss until the dawn,
                    drizzle-damp to my short hairs.
                From road to road I'm kicked along
                    until, when my poor prick juts out,
                in all its girth down to its trunk,
                    she sees the sad state of my putz.
                Her grub is stashed in a dust-brown rag,
                    the nun who goes by Umm al-Khayr.
                Disorderly her headwrap's wound.
                    The waist-sash round her smock is bound.
                She sends her warp through heddle-eyes.
                    and in the convent clangs her bell
                before cock-crow, when hens arise.
                    "I pity you!" she wails at me.
               "A fugitive from the regime
                    you seem," to which I said, "That's me!
                Without a pause, I range and rove
                    so kids can get a meal to eat,
                little ones, as bald as chicks,
                    and widows waiting on some food."
               "I rejoice in every good!"
                    she said, and oiled and combed my locks
                and served me bread with salted fish
                    pulled from the sea, or Egypt's docks,
                with oil that was sour and rancid
                    drizzled over hulled lentils,
                and some dates well desiccated.
                    She fixed me then with a lusty eye,
                and pelted me with pebbles flung,
                    aimed at my bits and wayward one.
                And when my little feast was through,
                    she joined my side and stroked my dong.
                My ostrich flew! The bird had run.
                   "You'll need to find another one,"
                I said. "Back when my strap was cut,
                    and I was like an ass in rut
                I used to rebound like an eagle.
                    But now I perch beside my grave,
                do I wait on my fate's direction?
                    Nay! by Him Who aideth me
                from birth up to my resurrection!"

From Special Properties of [the Arabic] Language by Ibn Jinni

March 6, 2018

Formerly available from Ugly Duckling Presse

At how many UDP parties have I lined up for drinks? And now there's a UDP broadside of Abu ‘Amir's famous cat poem, with sick finials by LRSN. Available on their website Sold out

Thank you, Ugly Duckling! Thank you, Rebekah

May 16, 2017

In praise of the cat poet

The finesse of Abū ‘Āmir al-Jurjānī is of a kind recognized by nomads and settled folk alike. How truly did the imam ‘Abd al-Qāhir al-Jurjānī put it into words when he described him (meter: hazaj):

       If serious brilliance of appearance is what you wish for,
       and you complain your access to joy is barred,
       when desolation won't release you from its shadows,
       and you would clear the torpor from your inner eyes,
       confer with him whose flint throws inspiration,
       and in the keenness of his discernment you'll find the spark
       and all the perspicacity that you sought.
       His [guidance] suffices, and you won't reject it,
             nor complain of his answer.
       On the contrary! Betake yourself to him and you'll find success
       in al-Faḍl ibn Ismā‘īl, and be left wishing for no other man.

From The Statue of the Palace of al-Bākharzī

May 7, 2023

What could this be?

The now-sainted Symeon was ailing at this time, and on the point of death. Gregory, when I made this known, sped to him, hoping to embrace him at the very end, but did not make it soon enough.

There were none to overshadow Symeon's greatness in his day. From the time he was a boy of tender nails, he pursued a life of hard extremity at the top of a pillar. His baby teeth had not yet fallen out when he took his stand there. The circumstances of his ascent to the pillar were these:

He was just a little kid, wandering boyishly in the foothills, when he came upon a wild leopard. Throwing his belt around its neck, he used the strap to lead around the beast, now forgetful of its wildness, and walked it back to his schoolhouse. Beholding this from the top of his own pillar, the schoolmaster asked: τί ἂν εἴη τοῦτο? "It's a cat," the boy said.

This proved the lad's future greatness, as far as the old man was concerned, and he conducted him up the pillar, where Symenon lived out sixty-eight years—first on that one, and then atop another in the highest fastness of the mountain. For expelling demons and healing every malady, every grace was due him, and for seeing into future things to come. To Gregory, he foretold that Gregory would not be present at his death. As to what might happen after that, he said, he had no knowledge.

From the Ecclesiastical History (VI.23) of Evagrius Scholasticus

January 25, 2024

Another Language of the Birds


In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate     

The angel Gabriel, peace be upon him, said: Hearken unto me, Muhammad, and to the knowledge sent you by my Lord and yours, Who gave the birds their languages and deserves our worship.

O Muhammad, when the Rooster of the Throne gives voice, every rooster on earth responds by crowing. And when the white rooster crows, "Remember God, O heedless ones!" is what it says—or, by another account: "There is no God but God, and Muhammad is His prophet."
     When the frog croaks, "The Messiah is in the whorl of the cloud" is what it says.
     When the skylark calls, "God's curse be on the enemies of Muhammad and his family!" is what it says.
     When the francolin cries, "The Merciful is seated on His throne" is what it says.
     When the starling calls, "Dear God the Provider, give to me sustenance day by day" is what it says.
     When the hen cackles, "Death, murder, and plague!" are what it says, and after its throat is cut it stammers on until its blood is drained.
     When the wood pigeon calls, "To death your young are destined, to ruin what you build, and everything you gather is for others to inherit" is what it says.
     When the laughing dove cries, "If only humans were never created! If only they knew what they were created for!" is what it says.
     When the hoopoe calls, "Who shows no mercy in this world will be shown none in the next" is what it says—or, by another account: "Everything dies, and everything new gets old."
     When the shrike gives voice, "This world doesn't matter" is what it says.
     When the sandpiper calls, "Do good, and good will come to you" is what it says.
     When the swallow cries, "Everything alive will die, and everything new gets old" is what it says.
     When the dove calls, "Glory be to my Lord Most High, and praise to Him" is what it says. The white dove is a bringer of blessings, and was prayed for by Noah, peace be upon him. And when the grey dove calls, "Glory be to my Lord, the Benevolent!" is what it says.
     When the peacock cries, "There is safety in the silence of the taciturn" is what it says.
     When the kite screeches, "Everything perishes but the face of the Mighty and Everlasting" is what it says.
     When the parrot calls, "This is the world of perishable things; what lasts forever belongs to the next" is what it says—or, by another account: "Woe unto whom this world is a matter of concern!"
     When the vulture calls, "O child of Adam! Live and do as you please, and death will be the end of you" is what it says.
     When the eagle cries, "Remoteness from people is a form of sociability" is what it says.
     When the hawk shrieks, "For the intelligent, death suffices as a sermon" is what it says.
     When the black raven caws, "What happens after death.... (?)" is what it says.
     When the peregrine falcon calls, "I marvel at those who die happy" is what it says.
     When the roller cries, "Dear God, Who hears our plaints, enroll me in the champions of Your Chosen One!" is what it says.
     When the magpie calls, "All that drink water will taste death" is what it says.
     When the Jewish raven caws, "Hellfire! Hellfire! No one withstands Hell's fire" is what it says.
     When the owl hoots, "Death and destruction! Separate and disperse!" are what it says. When you hear it, say: "God suffices us, and is the best of overseers" until it stops.
     When the [blank in manuscript] calls, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" is what it says.
     When the duck quacks, "Glory be to our Lord! In You we seek refuge" is what it says.
     When the sparrow hawk cries, "The mercy shown me encompasses all things! Let the community of Muhammad enter the Garden, by Your mercy!" is what it says.
     When the partridge calls, "O King of Kings, liberate the community of Muhammad from Hellfire" is what it says.
     When the quail lifts its voice, "O peace! Save us, and we'll give safety to whoever comes in peace" is what it says.
     When the nightingale sings, "O Kindly, Caring and Majestic One!" is what it says.
     When the Barbary dove cries, "Glory be to Him Who brings dead bones to life!" is what it says.
     When the curlew calls, "This world is perishable! The world to come is everlasting" is what it says.
     When the jaeger cries, "O Living and Eternal God! 'No drowsiness overtakes him and no sleep'" is what it says.
     When the Anqa lifts its voice, "Glory be to the Creator of the seed of life inside of wombs!" is what it says.
     When the ostrich calls, "O child of Adam, do not forget the bleakness of the grave and the narrowness of the tomb!" is what it says.
     When the crane cries, "O sufficer! Spare me the evil of Adam's children" is what it says.
     When the philomel sings, "The time is near, all hope is lost, the task is perilous," is what it says.
     When the waterbird calls, "O Knower of all that is hidden and secret! You created me [in the Garden, where you spared me] from the ordeals of this world" (?) is what it says.
     And when the fly buzzes, "Who obeys God obeys Him in all things" is what it says.
     And when the hornet buzzes, "Give me power only over those who....(?)" is what it says.
     And when the bee buzzes, "O you who wield a cane, do not thrash with it, and be forgiving of the community of Muhammad, seal of the prophets" is what it says.
     And when the lion roars, "O You of hidden grace, Your grace is sufficient kindness" is what it says.
     And when the lizard is heard, "Trust in God is all you need" is what it says.
     And when the wolf howls, "O you of grievous violence! Your pity is as unseemly as your lack of it" is what it says.
     And when the gazelle calls, "O people! Be ever wakeful" is what it says.
     And when the elephant calls, "Glory be to You, Who are the Greatest" is what it says.
     And when the pig squeals, "O flock of retribution!" is what it says.
     And when the rabbit is heard, "O Giver of Security! O Absolute Authority!"is what it says.
     And when the cat meows, "O .... (?)" is what it says.
     And when the locust calls, "You reap what you sow" is what it says.
     And when the mare whinnies, "Glory to the Pure and Free of blemish, our Perfect Lord and Lord of angels!" is what it says.
     And when the cow moos, "O Keeper of the Garden! O Beneficent!" is what it says.
     And when the goat bleats, "O Merciful! O Compassionate!" is what it says.
     And when the mule groans, "God's curse be upon oppressors!" is what it says.
     And when the ass brays, "Cursed be collectors of the ‘ushr tax!" is what it says.
     And when the serpent hisses, "There is a predetermined time for everything that happens." is what it says.
     And when the scorpion hisses, "I am God's blessing upon the pious and impious alike" [is what it says].
     And when the fish cries, "Glory Be to the Living and Undying!" is what it says.
     And when the gnat whines, "O You, the Living when nothing else was! O you Whose knowledge none can equal when it comes to birds and eagles!"


This concludes the treatise of The Language of the Birds.     

Bibliotheca Alexandrina MS Baladiyya 4952د, fol. 56v, by Anonymous

May 6, 2020

Week Seven

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