The queen of Arabic poetesses is El Khunsa, who flourished in the days of Mohammed. Elegies on her two warrior brothers Sakhr and Mu'awiyeh are among the gems of ancient Arabic poetry. She was not what would be called in modern times a refined or delicate lady, being regarded as proud and masculine in temper even by the Arabs of her own age. In the eighth year of the Hegira, her son Abbas brought a thousand warriors to join the forces of the Prophet. She came with him and recited her poetry to Mohammed. She lamented her brother for years. She sang of Sakhr:
"His goodness is known by his brotherly face,
Thrice blessed such sign of a heavenly grace:
You would think from his aspect of meekness and shame,
That his anger was stirred at the thought of his fame.
Oh rare virtue and beautiful, natural trait,
Which never will change by the change of estate!
When clad in his armor and prepared for the fray,
The army rejoiceth and winneth the day!"
Again, she lamented him as follows:
"Each glorious rising sun brings Sakhr to my mind,
I think anew of him when sets the orb of day;
And had I not beheld the grief and sorrow blind
Of many mourning ones o'er brothers snatched away,
I should have slain myself, from deep and dark despair."
The poet Nabighah erected for her a red leather tent at the fair of Okaz, in token of honor, and in the contest of poetry gave her the highest place above all but Maymûn, saying to her, "If I had not heard him, I would say that thou didst surpass every one in poetry. I confess that you surpass all women." To which she haughtily replied, "Not the less do I surpass all men."
The following are among the famous lines of El Khunsa, which gave her the title of princess of Arab poetesses. The translation I have made quite literal.
"Ah time has its wonders; its changes amaze,
It leaves us the tail while the head it slays;
It leaves us the low while the highest decays;
It leaves the obscure, the despised, and the slave,
But of honored and loved ones, the true and the brave
It leaves us to mourn o'er the untimely grave.
The two new creations, the day and the night,
Though ceaselessly changing, are pure as the light:
But man changes to error, corruption and blight."
The most ancient Arab poetess, Zarîfeh, is supposed to have lived as long ago as the Second Century, in the time of the bursting of the famous dyke of Mareb, which devastated the land of Saba. Another poetess, Rakâsh, sister of the king of Hira, was given in marriage, by the king when intoxicated, to a man named Adi.
Alas, in these days the Moslem Arabs do not wait until blinded by wine, to give their daughters in marriage to strangers. I once overheard two Moslem young men converging in a shop, one of whom was about to be married. His companion said to him, "have you heard anything about the looks of your betrothed?" "Not much," said he, "only I am assured that she is white."