In their midst was a person who appeared to be still young; he was dressed in monk’s garb, was carrying a woman’s rosary, and had about him the demeanor of someone inebriated. He had fixed the company with his gaze and pricked his ears to pick up their conversation. Thus their innermost fears were abundantly obvious to him. Just when they were all on the point of dispersing, he addressed them: “You people,” he said, “let your distress be resolved and your minds be comforted. I will serve as your guard in a way that will banish your fears and show you my devoted service.”
The narrator continued: “We now asked him for more details about his offer and raised the sum involved higher than that of an ambassador. In reply he claimed that his protection consisted of some words that he had learned in a dream as a means of protecting oneself against the wiles of mankind.” Some of us started gesturing to others and expressing our misgivings through nods and winks. He realized that we found his story implausibly weak. “Why do you treat my serious proposal so flippantly,” he asked, “and regard my pure gold as mere dross? By God, how many times have I crossed fearsome wastes and undertaken serious risks! In every single case I have felt no need of guards to accompany me or quivers of arrows to protect me. Even so, I have a way of removing your doubts and dispensing with the caution that has beset you all. I shall accompany you into the desert wastes and be your companion through the plateaus. If my pledge to you is fulfilled, then replenish my good fortune and give me wealth. If, however, I am telling you lies, then tear up my flesh and shed my blood.”
Al-Harith ibn Hammam said: We felt inspired to accept the truth of his vision and believed what he had told us. We stopped arguing with him and cast lots as to who would balance him on his camel. His words had made us sever the bonds of hesitation and cancel all fear of things harmful and injurious. Once the saddlebags had been secured and the time came to depart, we asked him to teach us his magic phrases so that we could use them as a continuing source of protection. “Whenever daylight or nighttime approach,” he said, “each one of you should recite the Fatiha of the Quran. After that, he should recite the following prayer in a humble, soft voice:
O God, Who can revive the bones of the dead and ward off disaster, protector against terror and bounteous giver of rewards, resort of the penitent and guardian of forgiveness and restitution, let Your prayers be upon Muhammad, seal of Your prophets and conveyor of Your message, and also upon his illustrious family and keys to his victory. Protect me against the snares of the devil, the whims of rulers, the assaults of tyrants, and the trials of despots. Shield me from the attacks of enemies and the enmity of opposers, from the conquest of victors and the deprivations of despoilers, from the tricks of the crafty and the wiles of the deceitful. O God, rescue me from the outrages of neighbors and the proximity of the outrageous; keep far removed from me the hands of wrongdoers and extract me from the gloomy clutches of transgressors and by Your mercy include me in the company of Your righteous servants. O God, keep me, in both my own land and abroad, in my absence and my return, in my foraging and my coming home, in my transactions and my sphere of activity, in my travels and resorts. Preserve me in my own person and my valuable property, in my honor and reputation, in my money and household, in my family and home, in my strength and circumstance, and in my wealth and death. Do not cause me any change nor give authority to any of my foes. O God, provide me from Your bounty a bolstering power; with Your eye and Your aid keep watch over me and grant me the special favor of Your protection and bounty. Give me the security of Your selection and care, and do not hand me over to the charge of others. Grant me a welfare without risk, provide me with a continuing serenity, rescue me from the horrors of disaster, and wrap me in the warm coverings of favor. Let not the talons of enemies overwhelm me, for You are the One Who hears supplications.
With that he stared fixedly at the ground without moving his eyes or uttering another word. We all told ourselves that a fit of terror had struck him or that a fainting fit had prevented him from talking. But he raised his head once again, took a deep breath, and continued: “I swear by the heavens with their constellations,” he said, “and the earth with its broad expanses, by rushing waters, by brilliant sunlight, by foaming sea, by winds and sandstorms, this prayer I have recited is the most trusted of talismans, offering more protection than wearing armor plating. Whoever studies it at the first smile of dawn’s rays will have no peril to fear till twilight; whoever repeats it to himself as darkness falls will suffer no theft during the night.”
The narrator said: So we kept repeating the words until we had it memorized and taught it to one another in case we forgot it. With that we began to urge our camels forward, using prayers rather than drivers and shielding our wares with words rather than warriors. The man stayed with us, offering his protection day and night, but never asked us to keep our promises. But, as soon as we spotted the outline of Al-ʿAnah, he spoke: “Now for your assistance!” he said. With that we showed him goods of every kind, both what had been visible and hidden away, materials that had been tied up and stamped as precious metals. “Choose whatever you wish,” we said, “for no one will disagree.” The only things he craved were light jewelry and glossy clothes; all he seemed to want were silver and gold coins. Of each category he gathered a load and made off with plenty to keep poverty at bay. With that he slunk away like a pickpocket and sped off.
We felt deserted and were amazed at the way he left us. We kept inquiring about him in every gathering, requesting information from every guide, trustworthy or not. Eventually we were told that, ever since he had entered Al-ʿAnah, he had been frequenting the tavern. So malicious was this story that I was tempted to test its validity by going somewhere I would never visit. I put on a disguise and entered the saloon. Lo and behold, there was our leader all decked out in bright-red garb standing close by the wine barrel and the press. All around him were handsome stewards and gleaming candles, myrtle and jasmine, panpipe and flute. At one moment he would be asking for a glass from the vat, at another he would ask for flute music; sometimes he would sniff the perfumes, at others he would flirt with his lovely companions. No sooner had I uncovered his deceit, the enormous difference between his behavior today as opposed to yesterday, than I upbraided him. “Woe to you, accursed man!” I said. “Have you forgotten what you said by the Jayran Gate?” He gave an incredulous laugh and then recited the following poem in merry tones:
I have traveled continually, traversed deserts, and shunned separation, all so I can reap pleasure’s delights.
I have waded through floods and tamed horses in order to drag my skirts through youthful ribaldry.
I have abandoned all dignity and sold estates, and all to sip wine and quaff a draft.
But for my passion for wine, my mouth would never utter amusing tales,
Nor would my skill have brought the caravan to Iraq, protected by the rosaries we carried.
So do not be angry with me nor upbraid my conduct, for my excuse is obvious,
And do not be surprised at an old man who can still resort to a place full of ripe pickings and overflowing vats.
Wine strengthens the bones, cures illness, and banishes sorrows.
The purest of delights comes when the respectable person rips off the coverings of his bashfulness and gives himself over to pleasure;
The sweetest of passions when the lover no longer suppresses his
desires and flaunts them in public.
Reveal your desires and thus cool your heart, or else the flint of your sorrow will ignite.
So heal your wounds and calm your anxieties with the vintages you crave;
Demand the evening glass from a wine server who, whenever he glances, can drive away the lover’s agony,
Or a singer who chants in such tones that, whenever he sings, mountains of iron are moved.
Disobey any counselor who will not permit you to have intercourse with a beauty who has consented.
Resort to trickery, though it be in the realm
of the impossible; ignore what is said and take what is beneficial.
Abandon your father if he refuses you; set up your nets and catch whatever is trapped.
Be loyal to friends and shun misers; give generously and donate gifts. Seek refuge in repentance before you die; for whoever knocks on the door of a generous person will see it opened.
“Your recitation is all well and good,” I told him, “but your sinful behavior has been appalling. The contradictions you pose have worn me out, so tell me, by God, from which parts do you originate?” “I do not wish to be explicit,” he replied, “but I will do it by allusion”:
I am the gift of the age, the wonder among peoples,
Among Arabs and Persians I count as the master trickster.
Yet I am someone in need, crushed and humiliated by fate.
I am a father; my children’s bones stick out in hunger,
In charge of a needy family, and thus not to be blamed if I use my wits.
The narrator continued: “With that I realized that he was Abu Zayd, notorious for his suspicious deeds, one who blackens the repute of old age. His defiance and disgraceful conduct, both, infuriated me.” I responded to his excuses with the utmost disdain, making it clear that I knew full well who he was: “My good sheikh,” I said, “isn’t it time you put an end to all this debauchery?” That sent him into a rage, and he started ranting and denying things. After some thought, he replied: “This is a night for jollity, not abuse; we should be drinking wine, not arguing with each other. Ignore the way things look now, and let us meet on the morrow!”
So I left him as he was, not because I believed his promises but rather because I was worried his fierce temper might get the better of him. I spent the night wearing the mourning garb of utter regret because I had directed my steps toward the evils of wine rather than the pursuit of noble deeds. I made a solemn oath to God—may He be praised and exalted!—that I would never again enter a tavern, even if I were offered possession of Baghdad itself; no more would I consort with bibulous company, even if I were offered a return to my youth.
With the early dawn we prepared our riding beasts and put a distance between ourselves and those two sheikhs, Abu Zayd and the devil.
Translated by Roger Allen
1. For literature on the maqamat, please consult the introduction.
2. The original text indeed gives the Arabic, “ist,” here.
86
From Abu ʾl-ʿAlaʾ al-Maʿarri, Risalat al-Ghufran
Abu ʾl-ʿAlaʾal-Maʿarri (363–449 a.h.) was one of the greatest classical Arab poets and thinkers, and one of the few major blind poets in Arabic and world literature. He was born in Maʿarrat al-Nuʿman in what is now called Syria, and after trying the ways of other poets, moving around and experiencing Arab life in the fourth century a.h.), he went back to his birthplace and lived in relative seclusion until his death at a ripe age. Aside from his poetry, in which he, in his mature years, abstained from following other poets in eulogizing princes and living on their bounty, he wrote creative prose epistles and other intellectual, literary, and linguistic works, many of which were destroyed by the major invasions of the Crusades and the Mongols from which the Arab Middle East suffered greatly in medieval times.
Risalat al-Ghufran is definitely his most famous epistle, which he wrote in answer to an epistle sent to him by a well-known man of letters at the time, Sheikh Ahmad ibn Mansour al-Halabi, known as Ibn al-Qarih, in which Ibn al-Qarih tried to show off his linguistic and literary knowledge, his experience and travels. Al-Maʿarri, irritated by these pedantic demonstrations, wrote his Epistle of Forgiveness in response. Here in the Epistle of Forgiveness, Ibn al-Qarih is made to go on an imaginary trip visiting both Hell and Paradise, where he meets many well-known poets, linguists, mystics, critics, musicians, and other prominent virtuosos from both the pre-Islamic and Islamic eras and has conversations relating to various philosophical, religious, linguistic, and literary questions. In these imaginary exchanges where the vast knowledge of al-Maʿarri in all these disciplines is displayed, something even more unusual and probably unprecedented in world literature is presented: the visit to Hell and Paradise. The visit to Heaven had already been made in the Miʿraj story about the Prophet’s ascension to stand in the presence of God, and it must have been in al-Maʿarri’s mind when he wrote his epistle. There have been quite a few strong arguments among literary historians about these works as the primary influences that inspired Dante’s Divine Comedy.1
Al-Maʿarri is speaking here of Ibn al-Qarih, now roaming the stretches of Paradise:
And it occurred to him [our sheikh, Ibn al-Qarih], may God perpetuate his strength, this was something that used to be called a promenade in life on earth. Carrying with him a bottle of wine, he rode a strong and fast- running horse of Heaven, which had been created out of corundum and pearls in a place that is neither hot nor cold. And he went on with no particular destination in mind, carrying some of the food of eternity…. And then he raised his voice, chanting al-Bakri’s poetry:
I wonder when a fast-running camel will carry me
Toward al-ʿAdhib and al-Saybun
With me a skin of wine, thin bread,
Basil, and a piece of fish!
In Heaven with al-Aʿsha
(Al-Aʿsha was a great, half blind, pre-Islamic poet.)
And then a voice called, “Do you know, O forgiven slave of God, whose poetry this is?”
“Oh, yes,” the sheikh answered, “our knowledgeable people had related … that this poetry belonged to Maymun ibn Qays ibn Jandal of Bani Rabiʿah.”
And the man raised his voice, “But that’s me, I’m that man! God had been merciful with me after I was at the brink of Hell, desperate of being forgiven.”
And our sheikh looked happily and satisfied when he saw a fair, relaxed young man, whose weak eyes had turned attractive and his hunchback straight, and he said to him, “Do tell me, how was your escape from Hell, and your rescue from your shameful deeds?”
“The angels of punishment,” he said, “were pulling me toward Hell, when I saw a man standing in the yards of doomsday, with a face that glittered like a moon, while people were calling him from all directions, ‘O, Muhammad, O, Muhammad, your mediation, please, your mediation!’ And I shouted while still in the clutches of the punishing angels, ‘O, Muhammad, O, Muhammad, save me, for I have an immunity with you!’ And Muhammad said, ‘O, ʿAli, see what immunity he has!’ And ʿAli ibn Abi Taleb, may God bless him, came to me while I was being pulled into the abyss of Hell, and he stopped the angels of punishment and said to me, ‘What’s your immunity?’ And I said, ‘I’m the poet who said:
O, you who ask me, ‘Where’s your camel heading to?’
She has a date in Yathrib,2
I’ve decided not to pity her exhaustion
Nor the blisters of her feet
until we meet with Muhammad.
When you halt at the door of Ibn Hashim,3
You’ll have rest and you’ll gain his blessings.
…
If you depart [this life] without a store of piety
While seeing after death those who have done,
You’ll regret you are not like them
And not safeguarding what they safeguarded.
…
A prophet who sees what you cannot see
His fame has spread in all directions.’”
Then al-Aʿsha said, “I told ʿAli, may God complement the pleasure of gatherings with his presence, knowing what has been said in this poem… that I used to believe in God and Judgment Day and in resurrection even when I lived in pre-Islamic times.”
And ʿAli went to the Prophet and told him, ‘Messenger of God, Aʿsha Qais had eulogized you and attested that you were a prophet sent by God.’
And the Prophet asked, ‘Couldn’t he have come to me in the previous world?’
And ʿAli said, ‘He did, but his love of wine and [your tribe of] Quraish stopped him.’
“So, on
ʿAli’s intercession, I was allowed to enter Paradise on the condition that I would not drink any wine there. And I was happy and content, and found an alternative in honey and milk. All those who did not abstain from wine in the mocking world, cannot drink it in the eternal world.”
With Zuhayr ibn Abi Sulma
(Zuhair was a great pre-Islamic poet famous for his wisdom. He lived a long life and wrote memorable verses on the ennui of long living and on pre-Islamic ethics.)
And the sheikh looked around in the orchards of Heaven and saw two high palaces, and thought, “Let me go to these two palaces and ask whom they belong to.” As he approached, he saw written on one of them: “This palace belongs to Zuhayr ibn Abu Sulma al-Muzni,” and on the other, “This palace belongs to ʿUbayd ibn al-Abras al-Asadi.” And he wondered and said to himself, “Those two men died during al-Jahiliyya [pre-Islamic time], but the mercy of our Lord must have included them. I must try to see these two men and ask them how God has forgiven them.” And as he started with Zuhayr, and found before him a young man like a flower who had been granted a palace built of pearls, as if he had never grown very old and fed up with his long life, as if it was not he who had said:
I’m fed up with the exigencies of life
For he who lives eighty years will surely be bored.
Classical Arabic Stories Page 40
