A Literary History of the Arabs Part 12

However _Mu'allaqa_ is to be explained, the name is not contemporary with the poems themselves. In all probability they were so ent.i.tled by the person who first chose them out of innumerable others and embodied them in a separate collection. This is generally allowed to have been ?ammad al-Rawiya, a famous rhapsodist who flourished in the latter days of the Umayyad dynasty, and died about 772 A.D., in the reign of the 'Abbasid Caliph Mahdi. What principle guided ?ammad in his choice we do not know. Noldeke conjectures that he was influenced by the fact that all the _Mu'allaqat_ are long poems--they are sometimes called 'The Seven Long Poems' (_al-Sab' al-?iwal_)--for in ?ammad's time little of the ancient Arabian poetry survived in a state even of relative completeness.

[Sidenote: Difficulty of translating the Mu'allaqat.]

It must be confessed that no rendering of the _Mu'allaqat_ can furnish European readers with a just idea of the originals, a literal version least of all. They contain much that only a full commentary can make intelligible, much that to modern taste is absolutely incongruous with the poetic style. Their finest pictures of Bedouin life and manners often appear uncouth or grotesque, because without an intimate knowledge of the land and people it is impossible for us to see what the poet intended to convey, or to appreciate the truth and beauty of its expression; while the artificial framework, the narrow range of subject as well as treatment, and the frank realism of the whole strike us at once. In the following pages I shall give some account of the _Mu'allaqat_ and their authors, and endeavour to bring out the characteristic qualities of each poem by selecting suitable pa.s.sages for translation.[207]

[Sidenote: Imru'u 'l-Qays.]

The oldest and most famous of the _Mu'allaqat_ is that of Imru'u 'l-Qays, who was descended from the ancient kings of Yemen. His grandfather was King ?arith of Kinda, the antagonist of Mundhir III, King of ?ira, by whom he was defeated and slain.[208] On ?arith's death, the confederacy which he had built up split asunder, and his sons divided among themselves the different tribes of which it was composed.

?ujr, the poet's father, ruled for some time over the Banu Asad in Central Arabia, but finally they revolted and put him to death. "The duty of avenging his murder fell upon Imru'u 'l-Qays, who is represented as the only capable prince of his family; and the few historical data which we have regarding him relate to his adventures while bent upon this vengeance."[209] They are told at considerable length in the _Kitabu 'l-Aghani_, but need not detain us here. Suffice it to say that his efforts to punish the rebels, who were aided by Mundhir, the hereditary foe of his house, met with little success. He then set out for Constantinople, where he was favourably received by the Emperor Justinian, who desired to see the power of Kinda re-established as a thorn in the side of his Persian rivals. The emperor appointed him Phylarch of Palestine, but on his way thither he died at Angora (about 540 A.D.). He is said to have perished, like Nessus, from putting on a poisoned robe sent to him as a gift by Justinian, with whose daughter he had an intrigue. Hence he is sometimes called 'The Man of the Ulcers'

(_Dhu 'l-Quru?_).

Many fabulous traditions surround the romantic figure of Imru'u 'l-Qays.[210] According to one story, he was banished by his father, who despised him for being a poet and was enraged by the scandals to which his love adventures gave rise. Imru'u 'l-Qays left his home and wandered from tribe to tribe with a company of outcasts like himself, leading a wild life, which caused him to be known as 'The Vagabond Prince'

(_al-Malik al-?illil_). When the news of his father's death reached him he cried, "My father wasted my youth, and now that I am old he has laid upon me the burden of blood-revenge. Wine to-day, business to-morrow!" Seven nights he continued the carouse; then he swore not to eat flesh, nor drink wine, nor use ointment, nor touch woman, nor wash his head until his vengeance was accomplished. In the valley of Tabala, north of Najran, there was an idol called Dhu 'l-Khala?a much reverenced by the heathen Arabs. Imru'u 'l-Qays visited this oracle and consulted it in the ordinary way, by drawing one of three arrows ent.i.tled 'the Commanding,' 'the Forbidding,' and 'the Waiting.' He drew the second, whereupon he broke the arrows and dashed them on the face of the idol, exclaiming with a gross imprecation, "If _thy_ father had been slain, thou would'st not have hindered me!"

Imru'u 'l-Qays is almost universally reckoned the greatest of the Pre-islamic poets. Mu?ammad described him as 'their leader to h.e.l.l-fire,' while the Caliphs 'Umar and 'Ali, _odium theologic.u.m_ notwithstanding, extolled his genius and originality.[211] Coming to the _Mu'allaqa_ itself, European critics have vied with each other in praising its exquisite diction and splendid images, the sweet flow of the verse, the charm and variety of the painting, and, above all, the feeling by which it is inspired of the joy and glory of youth. The pa.s.sage translated below is taken from the first half of the poem, in which love is the prevailing theme:--[212]

"Once, on the hill, she mocked at me and swore, 'This hour I leave thee to return no more,'

Soft! if farewell is planted in thy mind, Yet spare me, Fa?ima, disdain unkind.

Because my pa.s.sion slays me, wilt thou part?

Because thy wish is law unto mine heart?

Nay, if thou so mislikest aught in me, Shake loose my robe and let it fall down free.

But ah, the deadly pair, thy streaming eyes!

They pierce a heart that all in ruin lies.

How many a n.o.ble tent hath oped its treasure To me, and I have ta'en my fill of pleasure, Pa.s.sing the warders who with eager speed Had slain me, if they might but hush the deed, What time in heaven the Pleiades unfold A belt of orient gems distinct with gold.

I entered. By the curtain there stood she, Clad lightly as for sleep, and looked on me.

'By G.o.d,' she cried, 'what recks thee of the cost?

I see thine ancient madness is not lost.'

I led her forth--she trailing as we go Her broidered skirt, lest any footprint show-- Until beyond the tents the valley sank With curving dunes and many a piled bank, Then with both hands I drew her head to mine, And lovingly the damsel did incline Her slender waist and legs more plump than fine;-- A graceful figure, a complexion bright, A bosom like a mirror in the light; A white pale virgin pearl such l.u.s.tre keeps, Fed with clear water in untrodden deeps.

Now she bends half away: two cheeks appear, And such an eye as marks the frighted deer Beside her fawn; and lo, the shapely neck Not bare of ornament, else without a fleck; While from her shoulders in profusion fair, Like cl.u.s.ters on the palm, hangs down her coal-dark hair."

In strange contrast with this tender and delicate idyll are the wild, hard verses almost immediately following, in which the poet roaming through the barren waste hears the howl of a starved wolf and hails him as a comrade:--

"Each one of us what thing he finds devours: Lean is the wretch whose living is like ours."[213]

The n.o.ble qualities of his horse and its prowess in the chase are described, and the poem ends with a magnificent picture of a thunder-storm among the hills of Najd.

[Sidenote: ?arafa.]

?arafa b. al-'Abd was a member of the great tribe of Bakr. The particular clan to which he belonged was settled in Ba?rayn on the Persian Gulf. He early developed a talent for satire, which he exercised upon friend and foe indifferently; and after he had squandered his patrimony in dissolute pleasures, his family chased him away as though he were 'a mangy camel.' At length a reconciliation was effected. He promised to mend his ways, returned to his people, and took part, it is said, in the War of Basus. In a little while his means were dissipated once more and he was reduced to tend his brother's herds. His _Mu'allaqa_ composed at this time won for him the favour of a rich kinsman and restored him to temporary independence. On the conclusion of peace between Bakr and Taghlib the youthful poet turned his eyes in the direction of ?ira, where 'Amr b. Hind had lately succeeded to the throne (554 A.D.). He was well received by the king, who attached him, along with his uncle, the poet Mutalammis, to the service of the heir-apparent. But ?arafa's bitter tongue was destined to cost him dear. Fatigued and disgusted by the rigid ceremony of the court, he improvised a satire in which he said--

"Would that we had instead of 'Amr A milch-ewe bleating round our tent!"

Shortly afterwards he happened to be seated at table opposite the king's sister. Struck with her beauty, he exclaimed--

"Behold, she has come back to me, My fair gazelle whose ear-rings shine; Had not the king been sitting here, I would have pressed her lips to mine!"

'Amr b. Hind was a man of violent and implacable temper. ?arafa's satire had already been reported to him, and this new impertinence added fuel to his wrath. Sending for ?arafa and Mutalammis, he granted them leave to visit their homes, and gave to each of them a sealed letter addressed to the governor of Ba?rayn. When they had pa.s.sed outside the city the suspicions of Mutalammis were aroused. As neither he nor his companion could read, he handed his own letter to a boy of ?ira[214] and learned that it contained orders to bury him alive.

Thereupon he flung the treacherous missive into the stream and implored ?arafa to do likewise. ?arafa refused to break the royal seal. He continued his journey to Ba?rayn, where he was thrown into prison and executed.

Thus perished miserably in the flower of his youth--according to some accounts he was not yet twenty--the pa.s.sionate and eloquent ?arafa.

In his _Mu'allaqa_ he has drawn a spirited portrait of himself. The most striking feature of the poem, apart from a long and, to us who are not Bedouins, painfully tedious description of the camel, is its insistence on sensual enjoyment as the sole business of life:--

"Canst thou make me immortal, O thou that blamest me so For haunting the battle and loving the pleasures that fly?

If thou hast not the power to ward me from Death, let me go To meet him and scatter the wealth in my hand, ere I die.

Save only for three things in which n.o.ble youth take delight, I care not how soon rises o'er me the coronach loud: Wine that foams when the water is poured on it, ruddy, not bright.

Dark wine that I quaff stol'n away from the cavilling crowd;

"And second, my charge at the cry of distress on a steed Bow-legged like the wolf you have startled when thirsty he cowers; And third, the day-long with a la.s.s in her tent of goat's hair To hear the wild rain and beguile of their slowness the hours."[215]

Keeping, as far as possible, the chronological order, we have now to mention two _Mu'allaqas_ which, though not directly related to each other,[216] are of the same period--the reign of 'Amr b. Hind, King of ?ira (554-568 A.D.). Moreover, their strong mutual resemblance and their difference from the other _Mu'allaqas_, especially from typical _qa?idas_ like those of 'Antara and Labid, is a further reason for linking them together. Their distinguishing mark is the abnormal s.p.a.ce devoted to the main subject, which leaves little room for the subsidiary motives.

[Sidenote: 'Amr b. Kulthum.]

'Amr b. Kulthum belonged to the tribe of Taghlib. His mother was Layla, a daughter of the famous poet and warrior Muhalhil. That she was a woman of heroic mould appears from the following anecdote, which records a deed of prompt vengeance on the part of 'Amr that gave rise to the proverb, "Bolder in onset than 'Amr b. Kulthum"[217]:--

[Sidenote: How 'Amr avenged an insult to his mother.]

One day 'Amr. b. Hind, the King of ?ira, said to his boon-companions, "Do ye know any Arab whose mother would disdain to serve mine?" They answered, "Yes, the mother of 'Amr b. Kulthum."

"Why so?" asked the king. "Because," said they, "her father is Muhalhil b. Rabi'a and her uncle is Kulayb b. Wa'il, the most puissant of the Arabs, and her husband is Kulthum b. Malik, the knightliest, and her son is 'Amr, the chieftain of his tribe." Then the king sent to 'Amr b. Kulthum, inviting him to pay a visit to himself, and asking him to bring his mother, Layla, to visit his own mother, Hind. So 'Amr came to ?ira with some men of Taghlib, and Layla came attended by a number of their women; and while the king entertained 'Amr and his friends in a pavilion which he had caused to be erected between ?ira and the Euphrates, Layla found quarters with Hind in a tent adjoining. Now, the king had ordered his mother, as soon as he should call for dessert, to dismiss the servants, and cause Layla to wait upon her. At the pre-arranged signal she desired to be left alone with her guest, and said, "O Layla, hand me that dish." Layla answered, "Let those who want anything rise up and serve themselves." Hind repeated her demand, and would take no denial. "O shame!" cried Layla. "Help! Taghlib, help!" When 'Amr heard his mother's cry the blood flew to his cheeks. He seized a sword hanging on the wall of the pavilion--the only weapon there--and with a single blow smote the king dead.[218]

'Amr's _Mu'allaqa_ is the work of a man who united in himself the ideal qualities of manhood as these were understood by a race which has never failed to value, even too highly, the display of self-reliant action and decisive energy. And if in 'Amr's poem these virtues are displayed with an exaggerated boastfulness which offends our sense of decency and proper reserve, it would be a grave error to conclude that all this sound and fury signifies nothing. The Bedouin poet deems it his bounden duty to glorify to the utmost himself, his family, and his tribe; the Bedouin warrior is never tired of proclaiming his unshakable valour and recounting his brilliant feats of arms: he hurls menaces and vaunts in the same breath, but it does not follow that he is a _Miles Gloriosus_.

'Amr certainly was not: his _Mu'allaqa_ leaves a vivid impression of conscious and exultant strength. The first eight verses seem to have been added to the poem at a very early date, for out of them arose the legend that 'Amr drank himself to death with unmixed wine. It is likely that they were included in the original collection of the _Mu'allaqat_, and they are worth translating for their own sake:---

"Up, maiden! Fetch the morning-drink and spare not The wine of Andarin, Clear wine that takes a saffron hue when water Is mingled warm therein.

The lover tasting it forgets his pa.s.sion, His heart is eased of pain; The stingy miser, as he lifts the goblet, Regardeth not his gain.

Pa.s.s round from left to right! Why let'st thou, maiden, Me and my comrades thirst?

Yet am I, whom thou wilt not serve this morning, Of us three not the worst!

Many a cup in Baalbec and Damascus And Qa?irin I drained, Howbeit we, ordained to death, shall one day Meet death, to us ordained."[219]

In the next pa.s.sage he describes his grief at the departure of his beloved, whom he sees in imagination arriving at her journey's end in distant Yamama:--

"And oh, my love and yearning when at nightfall I saw her camels haste, Until sharp peaks uptowered like serried sword-blades, And me Yamama faced!

Such grief no mother-camel feels, bemoaning Her young one lost, nor she, The grey-haired woman whose hard fate hath left her Of nine sons graves thrice three."[220]

Now the poet turns abruptly to his main theme. He addresses the King of ?ira, 'Amr b. Hind, in terms of defiance, and warns the foes of Taghlib that they will meet more than their match:--

"Father of Hind,[221] take heed and ere thou movest Rashly against us, learn That still our banners go down white to battle And home blood-red return.

And many a chief bediademed, the champion Of the outlaws of the land, Have we o'erthrown and stripped him, while around him Fast-reined the horses stand.

Our neighbours lopped like thorn-trees, snarls in terror Of us the demon-hound;[222]

Never we try our hand-mill on the foemen But surely they are ground.

We are the heirs of glory, all Ma'add knows,[223]

Our lances it defend, And when the tent-pole tumbles in the foray, Trust us to save our friend![224]

O 'Amr, what mean'st thou? Are we, we of Taghlib, Thy princeling's retinue?

O 'Amr, what mean'st thou, rating us and hearkening To tale-bearers untrue?

O 'Amr, ere thee full many a time our spear-shaft Has baffled foes to bow;[225]