If the convener of the gathering has an idea or forgets something, the ignoramus jumps on him and takes him by surprise. He thinks that he is superior and more learned than the convener, because he has memorized a line of poetry or a motif that the convener has not. It may be that the convener knows over a thousand verses by heart. If this ignoramus were made convener and asked a thousand questions (all of which the convener could answer), he would not be able to get a single one right.
7.2
It seems to be the case (God support you) that the one person who knows least about my preeminent and unprecedented compositions is the one most in need of them. He claims my work as his own after I dictated it and makes formal pronouncements about it, after I explained its ideas. He does not make any reference to me or credit me. I do not care one jot about this. I enjoy your favor and have satisfied your request. You know only too well that these pretentious individuals are incapable of accomplishing the charge you gave me, and that none of them is bold enough to recite a single poem of Abū Tammām’s and be sure to get its content right, let alone give an account of the poet’s life and times, rebut his critics, comprehend and defend his entire corpus, preserve it intact, and highlight its merits, such that Abū Tammām’s eminence in poetry and his peerless understanding become known.
7.3
I compiled The Life and Times of al-Farazdaq, a work of three hundred folios in length. I set myself the condition that I would not use a single word from the Flytings except what was absolutely necessary: his genealogy, wives, and so forth. This came to less than thirty folios in toto. I started with al-Farazdaq, and intended to move on to the Life and Times of Jarīr and al-Akhṭal, compiled in exactly the same format. I began with al-Farazdaq because of his noble bearing, powerful and pithy language, rich motifs, and elegant style, and because during the Umayyad dynasty he was a supporter of the opposing Banū Hāshim, openly declaring their excellence and precedence, something I include in the book. I also consider his poetry to be superior to both Jarīr’s and al-Akhṭal’s. Yet I do not criticize anyone who places him second, for we do find that leading scholars hold divergent opinions on these three and prefer one over the other two. I for my part belong to the camp of those who prefer al-Farazdaq. I began to compile the Life and Times of Jarīr, then I learned that others had resolved to compile this according to the condition I had set for myself. They did this to oppose and outmaneuver me. So I held off completing the work, so that I could test their veracity. Some are dead, others still alive, but the work has yet to be compiled.
8
Your request is light indeed, though it would have been heavy if made by anyone else. You and your brothers Abū l-Fatḥ and Abū l-Qāsim (God support you all) are preeminent in knowledge, insight, faith, and truthfulness. I also acknowledge your favor, and am thankful for your kindness. You are as I described you all in a poem I once composed in your praise:
Do not forget how God has favored you
with noble, splendid brothers.
Men shield their eyes from you—
you are like fixed stars around a full moon.
Three solid hearthstones, the epitome of majesty,
fixed stars of Aquila.8
Lions defending their lair,
arrows of fate fired by an expert archer.
Death is blind to you,
Its sharp claws clipped.
May your enemy ever be your servant,
yoked, ignominious, the ally of defeat.
9.1
I will now begin to explain why some people disagree about Abū Tammām and the reasons for this, God willing. Some scholars are said to have avoided his poetry and found fault with it. I name no one. I mean to look out for, protect, and preserve scholars as a community. Do not be shocked that this actually happened. They mastered an extensive corpus of the poems of the Ancients in many recensions and identified authorities who had gone through the ancient poems and harnessed their motifs. Thus when they recite and explain them, specifying what is good and criticizing what is bad, they are simply following in the footsteps of others. The words of the Ancients resemble each other and are closely interconnected, even if they vary in excellence. Scholars therefore infer what they do not understand from what they do understand and conquer what is difficult by means of what is accessible.
9.2
They did not identify authorities or transmitters for the poetry of the Moderns from the age of Bashshār as well qualified as those they identified for the poetry of the Ancients. So they did not realize what Abū Tammām was capable of and could accomplish. They did not give him his due, but ignored him and opposed him, as God (Mighty and Glorious) says, «No; but they have cried lies to that whereof they comprehend not the knowledge»9 and as the saying goes, “Man is the enemy of that which he does not understand, for he who does not understand a thing opposes it.” When asked to teach the poetry of Bashshār, Abū Nuwās, Muslim, Abū Tammām, and others, these scholars demurred, saying “I do not not know this well” and reverted to abuse of Abū Tammām in particular, because he was their closest contemporary, and his poetry was the most difficult. What else could we expect of someone who says, “Study the poems of the Ancients with me,” but then, when asked about any aspect of the poems of the Moderns, is unfamiliar with it? What else could he resort to but insulting what he does not understand? If he were fair-minded, he would have studied it with the experts, as he had other poets, and he would then have been preeminent in his knowledge of it. Learning is not confined to one individual: no one has a special right to it.
10.1
Thaʿlab was venerated by everyone, but I think by the Banū Nawbakht above all. Each of them acknowledged Thaʿlab as their principal authority. The Banū Nawbakht told me that Thaʿlab said to them, “I spend much time with scribes, in particular Abū l-ʿAbbās ibn Thawābah. Most of their gatherings are devoted to discussions of the poetry of Abū Tammām, which I do not know. Make me an anthology!” So we made a selection and gave it to him. He took it to Ibn Thawābah, who approved it. “It is not something I selected,” Thaʿlab said to him, “the Banū Nawbakht selected it for me.”
10.2
The Banū Nawbakht said: Thaʿlab used to recite to us a verse by Abū Tammām and then ask, “What did he mean by this?” and we would explain it to him. “By God,” Thaʿlab would say, “he has done well and excelled!” This is a story they would tell of one of Abū Tammām’s leading critics.
11.1
I will discuss the other sort of critic after the following section about the Moderns, God willing. You should know (God support you) that from Bashshār’s era right up to today the lexicon of the Moderns seems to be moving toward more novel motifs, with a more accessible vocabulary, and more delicate speech, even if priority is given to the Ancients for their invention, innovation, natural talent, and self-sufficiency, as is right and proper. You should further know that they did not witness what the Moderns have witnessed, upon the observation of which they devised their images. So too the Moderns have not witnessed what the Ancients saw in their epoch and upon which they based their descriptions, as for example the evocation of deserts and open spaces, wildlife, camels, and tents. In these things the Moderns are forever second to the Ancients, just as the Ancients are forever second to the Moderns in what they have not seen. Abū Nuwās made this clear in his words:
To describe an abandoned campsite is a dullard’s eloquence.
Devote your descriptions to the daughter of the vine!
He later says in this poem:
You describe the abandoned campsite by hearsay.
Does someone who sees it for himself understand it as you do?
If you describe a thing derivatively
you will slip up and resort to fantasies.10
Since