rulers requires a spring drilled right by the road so every transient and traveler may drink.” After glancing at it, Ibn Muqlah changed the words and kept the meaning, saying: “The king of kings commands that a well be dug next to the wadi, so all who come and go may wet their whistles.” This was an example of his extraordinary skill with words, may the Almighty have mercy on him. It is said there are four men whose qualities have become proverbial: Ḥassān ibn Thābit for eloquence, Luqmān for wisdom, Ibn Adham for self-denial, and Ibn Muqlah for beauty of writing and script. Said the poet, describing these four:
Ḥassān’s tongue and Ibn Muqlah’s hand,
The wisdom of Luqmān and the self-denial of Ibn Adham,
Were these brought together in one bankrupt,
And he were hawked for sale, he’d not bring in one dirham.
10.21
As for the opposites of these four,28 how well the poet put it in the following lines:
Uṭrūsh is odious, Ibn Qaynah discourteous,
Qarnān’s credulous, and Ibn Ayham’s obstreperous.
Were all these faults combined in one with wealth endowed,
He’d be “the people’s orator” whenever he made a sound!
10.22
Concerning another who was caught unawares by Fate’s blows and overcome by oppression and woes—so that after he was exalted he became debased, and after riches saw his wealth effaced—is the story that is told of a man who was burdened with debts and left his children and wandered aimlessly until he came to a high-walled city, mightily built. He entered, abject and broken in spirit, devoured by hunger and exhausted by travel, and was walking along one of its streets when he saw a company of eminent persons proceeding together. He joined them and they came to a place like a king’s palace, and they entered, the man following, and they continued until they came to a man sitting in great state, with pages and servants around him, as though he were the son of a viceroy, and this man, when he saw them, rose to greet them and paid them great honor. The subject of our tale was overcome with amazement and taken aback by the magnificence of the place and the servants and retainers, and he retired in a state of perplexity and apprehension, afraid for his safety, and sat down in a spot far removed from the people, where none could catch sight of him. While he was thus seated, a man came towards him with four hunting dogs dressed in silks and brocades and with gold collars and silver chains around their necks. The man tied each dog in its appointed place and disappeared and returned with four golden dishes filled with sumptuous food and placed before each dog its own dish. Then he went away and left them. The man was so hungry that he started to eye the food, and wanted to go up to one of the dogs and eat with it, but fear prevented him from approaching them. One of the dogs, however, looked at him, understood his plight, and, ceasing to eat, signaled to him to approach. The man drew near, and again the dog made a sign, as though to say, “Eat from this dish,” and drew back from the dish, so the man ate until he was full and wanted to leave. At this, the dog made a sign to him as if to say, “Take this dish with the remaining food,” so the man picked it up and put it in his sleeve and waited a while, but no one came looking for the dish, so he took it and went his way. Then he journeyed to another city and sold the dish and bought goods with the proceeds and made his way to his own town, where he sold what he had and paid off his debts, and his business increased and he found himself in a state of the greatest ease and general good fortune. When some time had passed, he said to himself, “You must make a journey to the city of the owner of the dish and take with you a splendid gift in recompense and pay him back the price of the dish, even though one of his dogs made you a present of it.” So he took a gift befitting the man’s standing and took with him the price of the dish, and he journeyed by day and by night until he came to that city and went up into it, hoping to meet with the man. However, on approaching that place, he nothing saw but crumbling ruins and cawing ravens, dwellings reduced to desolation and all things in deterioration, a sight to leave the heart in a state of agitation and a place turned by Fate into «a scene of devastation».29 As the poet30 says:
Suʿdā’s ghost agliding came and woke me in alarm
At break of dawn, my fellows in their homes yet still asleep,
But when aroused by that night phantom gliding,
I found the house bereft, the tryst too far to keep.
10.23
When the man observed that wasted debris, and beheld what fate had wrought for all to see, perplexity assailed him for sure, and, turning, a pitiful man he saw, his state fit to make the skin creep, the sight of him enough to make a stone weep. “You there!” he said. “What have Fate and time made of the master of this facade? Where are those suns that shimmered and stars that glimmered? What blow upon his edifice could fall that would leave nothing standing but the wall?” That pitiful man responded for his part, moaning from a grieving heart, “Is there not guidance in the Messenger’s words for those who follow his example and heed his admonition that ‘It is God’s right to raise up naught in this Abode that He does not then subject to demolition’? If your question be for good reason and cause, know that there is nothing in the vicissitudes of Fate that calls for pause. I am the master of this place and its erector, its occupant and its constructor, the owner of its shimmering suns and overwhelming sums and master of this place replete with so many a brilliant bauble and slave girl adorable—but Fate turned its back, put servants and money to the sack, and drove me to this present state, catching me unawares with concealed blows with which it lies in wait. However, your question surely is for good cause and reason raised, so inform me of what they may be and cease to be amazed!” The other then related to him his tale, with a lump in his throat and great travail, telling him, “I have brought you a gift such as any might desire, plus the price of your golden dish that I did acquire, for it was a cause of my becoming rich after poverty and of my relief from dire straits and misery.” The man then wagged his head and wailed, and moaned and railed, and he said, “You are crazy, sir, it seems to me, for such a thing can never be. A dog of ours made you a gift of a dish of gold, and I should now go back on that? Never, though I were subject to woe and misery untold! By God, I will not take from you one fingernail sliver, so return in peace to the place whence you came hither!” The man then kissed his feet and hands, and, extolling the other’s worth, set off for his native lands, and, as he left him and was bidding him good-bye, spoke this verse on which the ear must love to dwell:
Gone are the men and the dogs together,
So to men and dogs alike, farewell!
10.24
Likewise the author of this book from fortune’s plots has suffered blows, after the nights had shot him with woe’s arrows from disaster’s bows, so that he found himself, after companionship, on his own, after sweet intimacy, alone, conversing with the stars, wrestling with his cares, over the departure of his dear ones pouring his lament, and hoping—faint hope!—that Fate might yet relent. As the poet says:
Would that I knew—for the world tears friends apart
And the stars of men both wax and wane—
Will the house, after parting, fill once more with cheer,
And will those first days of ours return again?
10.25
However, patience with life’s perfidies is a mark of the noble man:
Patience! You’d rush to thank the Lord of Every Boon
If you but knew what benefits in patience lie!
And know that should you not endure with grace
What by the Pen is writ, you will, perforce, comply!
THE ODE OF ABŪ SHĀDŪF WITH COMMENTARY
11.0
All of which paves