'The repentance of Farazdaq,' signifying bitter regret or disappointment, passed into a proverb. He died a few months before Jarír in 728 a.d., a year also made notable by the deaths of two illustrious divines, Ḥasan of Baṣra and Ibn Sírín.
Jarír b. ‘Atiyya belonged to Kulayb, a branch of the same tribe, Tamím, which produced Farazdaq. He was the court-poet Jarír. of Ḥajjáj, the dreaded governor of ‘Iráq, and eulogised his patron in such extravagant terms as to arouse the jealousy of the Caliph ‘Abdu ’l-Malik, who consequently received him, on his appearance at Damascus, with marked coldness and hauteur. But when, after several repulses, he at length obtained permission to recite a poem which he had composed in honour of the prince, and came to the verse—
"Are not ye the best of those who on camel ride, More open-handed than all in the world beside?"—
the Caliph sat up erect on his throne and exclaimed: "Let us be praised like this or in silence!"[467] Jarír's fame as a satirist stood so high that to be worsted by him was reckoned a greater distinction than to vanquish any one else. The blind poet, Bashshár b. Burd († 783 a.d.), said: "I satirised Jarír, but he considered me too young for him to notice. Had he answered me, I should have been the finest poet in the world."[468] The following anecdote shows that vituperation launched by a master like Jarír was a deadly and far-reaching weapon which degraded its victim in the eyes of his contemporaries, however he might deserve their esteem, and covered his family and tribe with lasting disgrace.
There was a poet of repute, well known by the name of Rá‘i ’l-ibil (Camel-herd), who loudly published his opinion that Farazdaq was superior to Jarír, although the latter had lauded his tribe, the Banú Numayr, whereas Farazdaq had made verses against them. One day Jarír met him and expostulated with him but got no reply. Rá‘í was riding a mule and was accompanied by his son, Jandal, who said to his father: "Why do you halt before this dog of the Banú Kulayb, as though you had anything to hope or fear from him?" At the same time he gave the mule a lash with his whip. The animal started violently and kicked Jarír, who was standing by, so that his cap fell to the ground. Rá‘í took no heed and went on his way. Jarír picked up the cap, brushed it, and replaced it on his head. Then he exclaimed in verse:—
"O Jandal! what will say Numayr of you When my dishonouring shaft has pierced thy sire?"
He returned home full of indignation, and after the evening prayer, having called for a jar of date-wine and a lamp, he set about his work. An old woman in the house heard him muttering, and mounted the stairs to see what ailed him. She found him crawling naked on his bed, by reason of that which was within him; so she ran down, crying "He is mad," and described what she had seen to the people of the house. "Get thee gone," they said, "we know what he is at." By daybreak Jarír had composed a satire of eighty verses against the Banú Numayr. When he finished the poem, he shouted triumphantly, "Allah Akbar!" and rode away to the place where he expected to find Rá‘í ’l-ibil and Farazdaq and their friends. He did not salute Rá‘í but immediately began to recite. While he was speaking Farazdaq and Rá‘í bowed their heads, and the rest of the company sat listening in silent mortification. When Jarír uttered the final words—
"Cast down thine eyes for shame! for thou art of Numayr—no peer of Ka‘b nor yet Kiláb"—
Rá‘í rose and hastened to his lodging as fast as his mule could carry him. "Saddle! Saddle!" he cried to his comrades; "you cannot stay here longer, Jarír has disgraced you all." They left Baṣra without delay to rejoin their tribe, who bitterly reproached Rá‘í for the ignominy which he had brought upon Numayr; and hundreds of years afterwards his name was still a byword among his people.[469]
Next, but next at a long interval, to the three great poets of this epoch comes Dhu ’l-Rumma (Ghaylán b. ‘Uqba), who Dhu ’l-Rumma. imitated the odes of the desert Arabs with tiresome and monotonous fidelity. The philologists of the following age delighted in his antique and difficult style, and praised him far above his merits. It was said that poetry began with Imru’u ’l-Qays and ended with Dhu ’l-Rumma; which is true in the sense that he is the last important representative of the pure Bedouin school.