Abu ’l-Ṭayyib Ahmad b. Ḥusayn, known to fame as al-Mutanabbí, was born and bred at Kúfa, where his father Mutanabbí (915-965 a.d.). is said to have been a water-carrier. Following the admirable custom by which young men of promise were sent abroad to complete their education, he studied at Damascus and visited other towns in Syria, but also passed much of his time among the Bedouins, to whom he owed the singular knowledge and mastery of Arabic displayed in his poems. Here he came forward as a prophet (from which circumstance he was afterwards entitled al-Mutanabbí, i.e., 'the pretender to prophecy'), and induced a great multitude to believe in him; but ere long he was captured by Lu’lu’, the governor of Ḥims (Emessa), and thrown into prison. After his release he wandered to and fro chanting the praises of all and sundry, until fortune guided him to the court of Sayfu ’l-Dawla at Aleppo. For nine years (948-957 a.d.) he stood high in the favour of that cultured prince, whose virtues he celebrated in a series of splendid eulogies, and with whom he lived as an intimate friend and comrade in arms. The liberality of Sayfu ’l-Dawla and the ingenious impudence of the poet are well brought out by the following anecdote:—
Mutanabbí on one occasion handed to his patron the copy of an ode which he had recently composed in his honour, and retired, leaving Sayfu ’l-Dawla to peruse it at leisure. The prince began to read, and came to these lines—
Aqil anil aqṭi‘ iḥmil ‘alli salli a‘id zid hashshi bashshi tafaḍḍal adni surra ṣili.[564]
"Pardon, bestow, endow, mount, raise, console, restore, Add, laugh, rejoice, bring nigh, show favour, gladden, give!"
Far from being displeased by the poet's arrogance, Sayfu ’l-Dawla was so charmed with his artful collocation of fourteen imperatives in a single verse that he granted every request. Under pardon he wrote 'we pardon thee'; under bestow, 'let him receive such and such a sum of money'; under endow, 'we endow thee with an estate,' which he named (it was beside the gate of Aleppo); under mount, 'let such and such a horse be led to him'; under raise, 'we do so'; under console, 'we do so, be at ease'; under restore, 'we restore thee to thy former place in our esteem'; under add, 'let him have such and such in addition'; under bring nigh, 'we admit thee to our intimacy'; under show favour, 'we have done so'; under gladden, 'we have made thee glad'[565]; under give, 'this we have already done.' Mutanabbí's rivals envied his good fortune, and one of them said to Sayfu ’l-Dawla—"Sire, you have done all that he asked, but when he uttered the words laugh, rejoice, why did not you answer, 'Ha, ha, ha'?" Sayfu ’l-Dawla laughed, and said, "You too, shall have your wish," and ordered him a donation.
Mutanabbí was sincerely attached to his generous master, and this feeling inspired a purer and loftier strain than we find in the fulsome panegyrics which he afterwards addressed to the negro Káfúr. He seems to have been occasionally in disgrace, but Sayfu ’l-Dawla could deny nothing to a poet who paid him such magnificent compliments. Nor was he deterred by any false modesty from praising himself: he was fully conscious of his power and, like Arabian bards in general, he bragged about it. Although the verbal legerdemain which is so conspicuous in his poetry cannot be reproduced in another language, the lines translated below may be taken as a favourable and sufficiently characteristic specimen of his style.
"How glows mine heart for him whose heart to me is cold, Who liketh ill my case and me in fault doth hold! Why should I hide a love that hath worn thin my frame? To Sayfu ’l-Dawla all the world avows the same. Tho' love of his high star unites us, would that we According to our love might so divide the fee! Him have I visited when sword in sheath was laid, And I have seen him when in blood swam every blade: Him, both in peace and war the best of all mankind, Whose crown of excellence was still his noble mind. Do foes by flight escape thine onset, thou dost gain A chequered victory, half of pleasure, half of pain. So puissant is the fear thou strik'st them with, it stands Instead of thee, and works more than thy warriors' hands. Unfought the field is thine: thou need'st not further strain To chase them from their holes in mountain or in plain. What! 'fore thy fierce attack whene'er an army reels, Must thy ambitious soul press hot upon their heels? Thy task it is to rout them on the battle-ground; No shame to thee if they in flight have safety found. Or thinkest thou perchance that victory is sweet Only when scimitars and necks each other greet? O justest of the just save in thy deeds to me! Thou art accused and thou, O Sire, must judge the plea. Look, I implore thee, well! Let not thine eye cajoled See fat in empty froth, in all that glisters gold![566] What use and profit reaps a mortal of his sight, If darkness unto him be indistinct from light? My deep poetic art the blind have eyes to see, My verses ring in ears as deaf as deaf can be. They wander far abroad while I am unaware, But men collect them watchfully with toil and care. Oft hath my laughing mien prolonged the insulter's sport, Until with claw and mouth I cut his rudeness short. Ah, when the lion bares his teeth, suspect his guile, Nor fancy that the lion shows to you a smile. I have slain the man that sought my heart's blood many a time, Riding a noble mare whose back none else may climb, Whose hind and fore-legs seem in galloping as one; Nor hand nor foot requireth she to urge her on. And O the days when I have swung my fine-edged glaive Amidst a sea of death where wave was dashed on wave! The desert knows me well, the night, the mounted men, The battle and the sword, the paper and the pen!"[567]
Finally an estrangement arose between Mutanabbí and Sayfu ’l-Dawla, in consequence of which he fled to Egypt and attached himself to the Ikhshídite Káfúr. Disappointed in his new patron, a negro who had formerly been a slave, the poet set off for Baghdád, and afterwards visited the court of the Buwayhid ‘Aḍudu ’l-Dawla at Shíráz. While travelling through Babylonia he was attacked and slain by brigands in 965 a.d.
The popularity of Mutanabbí is shown by the numerous commentaries[568] and critical treatises on his Díwán. By his countrymen he is generally regarded as one of the greatest of Arabian poets, while not a few would maintain that he ranks absolutely first. Abu ’l-‘Alá al-Ma‘arrí, himself an illustrious poet and man of letters, confessed that he had sometimes wished to alter a word here and there in Mutanabbí's verses, but had never been able to think of any improvement. "As to his poetry," says Ibn Khallikán, "it is perfection." European scholars, with the exception of Von Hammer,[569] have been far from sharing this enthusiasm, as may be seen by referring to what has been said on the subject by Reiske,[570] De Sacy,[571] Bohlen,[572] Brockelmann,[573] and others. No doubt, according to our canons of taste, Mutanabbí stands immeasurably below the famous Pre-islamic bards, and in a later age must yield the palm to Abú Nuwás and Abu ’l-‘Atáhiya. Lovers of poetry, as the term is understood in Europe, cannot derive much æsthetic pleasure from his writings, but, on the contrary, will be disgusted by the beauties hardly less than by the faults which Arabian critics attribute to him. Admitting, however, that only a born Oriental is able to appreciate Mutanabbí at his full worth, let us try to realise the Oriental point of view and put aside, as far as possible, our preconceptions of what constitutes good poetry and good taste. Fortunately we possess abundant materials for such an attempt in the invaluable work of Tha‘álibí, which has been already mentioned.[574] Tha‘álibí (961-1038 a.d.) was nearly contemporary with Mutanabbí. He began to write his Yatíma about thirty years after the poet's death, and while he bears witness to the unrivalled popularity of the Díwán amongst all classes of society, he observes that it was sharply criticised as well as rapturously admired. Tha‘álibí himself claims to hold the balance even. "Now," he says, "I will mention the faults and blemishes which critics have found in the poetry of Mutanabbí; for is there any one whose qualities give entire satisfaction?—
Kafa ’l-mar’a faḍlan an tu‘adda ma‘áyibuh.