Introduction to Al-Mutanabbi
Abu al-Tayyib al-Mutanabbi, Ahmad ibn al-Husayn al-Kufi, is widely regarded as one of the greatest poets in Arab history. His mastery of the Arabic language, along with his profound understanding of its rules and vocabulary, earned him accolades such as “the one who filled the world and occupied people’s minds,” according to Ibn Rashiq. Al-Mutanabbi’s poetry continues to be a source of inspiration for poets and writers to this day, having produced a significant body of work consisting of 326 poems. His creations serve as both a rich historical record of the 4th century AH and a form of autobiography.
O Heart, How Grievous the Pain
The following verses reflect the beauty encapsulated in his poetry:
O heart, how grievous the pain from those hearts that are charred!
And those who see my state are stricken with illness.
Why do I conceal the love that has shattered my body?
And nations claim to adore Sayf al-Dawla.
If our love is united for his beauty,
I wish we could equally divide our love’s worth.
Indeed, I have visited him while swords from Hind were sheathed,
And I gazed upon him, and swords bled.
He was the finest creation of Allah among them,
And possessed the most admirable traits.
Fate of the enemy I set out to confront is a triumph,
Within it lies sorrow, and within it, bounties.
Fear gripped you that made impossible what even beasts could do.
You imposed on yourself something that does not need to be.
That no land nor banner could conceal them.
Whenever you sought an army, it retreated in flight,
Your ambitions steered you where actions defined.
Your defeat was evident in every conflict,
And it would not taint you if they faltered.
Do you not see a glorious victory occurs beyond mere triumph?
The white of Hind and concubines embraced it.
O most just among people, except in dealing with me,
Your disputes find you as both accuser and judge.
I seek refuge from glances of yours that are insincere,
To assume that fat exists in one whose flesh is a cheat.
And what benefit is there for a worldly brother in his gaze,
When both light and darkness equal before him?
I am the one whom the blind recognize through my poetry,
And my words awaken those who dwell in silence.
I lay my head down in sleep, oblivious to its intrigue,
While the world keeps awake due to my utterings.
And an ignorant one laughs in his ignorance until fate dealt him a blow,
When a discerning hand revealed the truth with a mouth.
If you observe the exposed fangs of a lion,
Then do not think that the lion is grinning.
For whoever we part from,
Our attachment makes everything after you non-existent.
How fitting we are born of your nobility,
If only your matters were connected to ours.
If what our envious one said brings you joy,
Then what of pain if it pleases you?
Restraint from Blame
Here are additional verses from the immortal poetry of Al-Mutanabbi:
Restraint escapes blame,
And the impact of actions surpasses words.
Leave me to the vastness without a guide,
And my face in the scorching heat without a veil.
For I find solace in this and that,
And I tire of staying and idling.
The eyes of my steeds, when I ponder my sight,
And every groaning beast seems like my desire.
I seek the waters without a guide,
Except for the thunder of clouds that burst.
They reproach my soul, O my Lord, along with my sword,
If the solitary one desires a secure stranglehold.
And I do not become a guest to the people of stinginess,
Where no hospitality is, except for a harsh feast.
And when people’s affections turn into deceit,
I returned smiles with smiles.
And I began to doubt whom I choose,
For I knew they are but a part of mankind.
Awake to Restlessness
Restless upon restless, and one like me is restless.
With longing increasing and tears trickling down.
My struggle with love is that it appears as I witness,
An eye that is watchful, and a heart that flutters.
Whenever lightning flashes or a bird sings,
I bend back, for my heart is captivated.
I have tested the flame of passion that nothing diminishes,
Fire at the dawn, which leaves nothing unburned.
I excused those in love until I tasted it,
And I marveled at how the one who does not love dies.
I pardoned them, realizing my sin that I,
Accused them of how they suffered the same fate.
O my father, we are the dwellers of places,
Forever a crow of separation croaking within them.
We weep for the world, but among people,
They gathered, yet they did not part ways.
Where are the mighty kings who hoarded treasures,
Yet what remained of them, nor did they remain?
From anyone whose army filled the space,
Until they turned to dust in a confined grave.
Mute when called, as if they know not,
That speech is theirs to utter freely.
And death is coming, souls are treasures,
And the fool is the one clinging to what he possesses.
And man hopes while life is inviting,
Gray hair surely weighs down, yet youthful spirits are bright.
And I have wept for youth until it seemed,
Darkness has covered my face with its shine.
Wary of it before the day of separation,
Until my tears threaten to illuminate my eyes.
As for the sons of Aws, son of Ma’n, son of Al-Rida,
The most honored of whom I face are well-known.
I amplified the call around their abodes when their suns appeared,
From it rising, yet no dawn persisted.
And I marveled at a land whose clouds fall softly,
Above it, and its rocks provide no shade.
Wonders of praise waft in all locations,
Sweetened with every position of fragrance.
It is as though they flourish, but without them,
Sweetness disperses unceasingly.
Are we to long for someone like Muhammad in our age,
Do not pursue what cannot be attained.
No one has been created like Muhammad,
I believe that none ever will,
O you who graciously bestows, and in Your presence,
I believe I receive out of pure generosity.
Shower me with the clouds of Your benevolence,
And gaze upon me with mercy, lest I drown.
How false is the son of a doer who remains in ignorance,
The noble have passed while You are alive, sustained.
This is but a glimpse of the brilliant poetry of Abu al-Tayyib al-Mutanabbi.