The Literature of Arabia Part 9

[30] Ben Yousef for many years acted as vizir to Abou Na.s.ser, Sultan of Diarbeker. His political talents are much praised, and he is particularly celebrated for the address he displayed while upon an emba.s.sy to the Greek Emperor at Constantinople. Yousef's poetry must be looked upon merely as a jeu d'esprit suggested by the beauties of the vale of Bozaa, as he pa.s.sed through it.

TO ADVERSITY[31]

Hail, chastening friend Adversity! 'Tis thine The mental ore to temper and refine, To cast in virtue's mould the yielding heart, And honor's polish to the mind impart.

Without thy wakening touch, thy plastic aid, I'd lain the shapeless ma.s.s that nature made; But form'd, great artist, by thy magic hand, I gleam a sword to conquer and command.

_Abou Menbaa Carawash_.

[31] The life of this prince was checkered with various adventures; he was perpetually engaged in contests either with the neighboring sovereigns, or the princes of his own family. After many struggles he was obliged to submit to his brother, Abou Camel, who immediately ordered him to be seized, and conveyed to a place of security.

ON THE INCOMPATIBILITY OF PRIDE AND TRUE GLORY[32]

Think not, Abdallah, pride and fame Can ever travel hand in hand; With breast oppos'd, and adverse aim, On the same narrow path they stand.

Thus youth and age together meet, And life's divided moments share; This can't advance till that retreat, What's here increas'd, is lessen'd there.

And thus the falling shades of night Still struggle with the lucid ray, And e'er they stretch their gloomy flight Must win the lengthen'd s.p.a.ce from day.

_Abou Alola_.

[32] Abou Alola is esteemed as one of the most excellent of the Arabian poets. He was born blind, but this did not deter him from the pursuit of literature. Abou Alola died at Maara in the year 449, aged eighty-six.

THE DEATH OF NEDHAM ALMOLK

Thy virtues fam'd thro' every land, Thy spotless life, in age and youth, Prove thee a pearl, by nature's hand, Form'd out of purity and truth.

Too long its beams of Orient light Upon a thankless world were shed; Allah has now reveng'd the slight, And call'd it to its native bed.

_Shebal Addaulet_.

LINES TO A LOVER

When you told us our glances soft, timid and mild, Could occasion such wounds in the heart, Can ye wonder that yours, so ungovern'd and wild, Some wounds to our cheeks should impart?

The wounds on our cheeks are but transient, I own, With a blush they appear and decay; But those on the heart, fickle youths, ye have shown To be even more transient than they.

_Waladata_.

VERSES TO MY DAUGHTERS[33]

With jocund heart and cheerful brow I used to hail the festal morn-- How must Mohammed greet it now?-- A prisoner helpless and forlorn.

While these dear maids in beauty's bloom, With want opprest, with rags o'erspread, By sordid labors at the loom Must earn a poor, precarious bread.

Those feet that never touched the ground, Till musk or camphor strew'd the way, Now bare and swoll'n with many a wound.

Must struggle thro' the miry clay.

Those radiant cheeks are veil'd in woe, A shower descends from every eye, And not a starting tear can flow, That wakes not an attending sigh.

Fortune, that whilom own'd my sway, And bow'd obsequious to my nod, Now sees me destin'd to obey, And bend beneath oppression's rod.

Ye mortals with success elate, Who bask in hope's delusive beam, Attentive view Mohammed's fate, And own that bliss is but a dream.

_Mohammed Bed Abad_.

[33] Seville was one of those small sovereignties into which Spain had been divided after the extinction of the house of Ommiah. It did not long retain its independence, and the only prince who ever presided over it as a separate kingdom seems to have been Mohammed Ben Abad, the author of these verses. For thirty-three years he reigned over Seville and the neighboring districts with considerable reputation, but being attacked by Joseph, son to the Emperor of Morocco, at the head of a numerous army of Africans, was defeated, taken prisoner, and thrown into a dungeon, where he died in the year 488.

SERENADE TO MY SLEEPING MISTRESS[34]

Sure Harut's[B] potent spells were breath'd Upon that magic sword, thine eye; For if it wounds us thus while sheath'd, When drawn, 'tis vain its edge to fly.

How canst thou doom me, cruel fair, Plung'd in the h.e.l.l[C] of scorn to groan?

No idol e'er this heart could share, This heart has wors.h.i.+pp'd thee alone.

_Aly Ben Abd_.

[34] This author was by birth an African; but having pa.s.sed over to Spain, he was much patronized by Mohammed, Sultan of Seville. After the fall of his master, Ben Abd returned to Africa, and died at Tangier, A.H. 488.

[B] A wicked angel who is permitted to tempt mankind by teaching them magic; see the legend respecting him in the Koran.

[C] The poet here alludes to the punishments denounced in the Koran against those who wors.h.i.+p a plurality of G.o.ds: "their couch shall be in h.e.l.l, and over them shall be coverings of fire."

THE INCONSISTENT[35]

When I sent you my melons, you cried out with scorn, They ought to be heavy and wrinkled and yellow; When I offer'd myself, whom those graces adorn, You flouted, and call'd me an ugly old fellow.

[35] Written to a lady upon her refusal of a present of melons, and her rejection of the addresses of an admirer.

THE CAPTURE OF JERUSALEM[36]

From our distended eyeb.a.l.l.s flow A mingled stream of tears and blood; No care we feel, nor wish to know, But who shall pour the largest flood.

But what defense can tears afford?

What aid supply in this dread hour?

When kindled by the sparkling sword War's raging flames the land devour.

No more let sleep's seductive charms Upon your torpid souls be shed: A crash like this, such dire alarms, Might burst the slumbers of the dead.

Think where your dear companions lie-- Survey their fate, and hear their woes-- How some thro' trackless deserts fly, Some in the vulture's maw repose;