and «Do thou give them the good tidings of a painful chastisement.»33 Since He first said, “Give those the good tidings of paradise,” He then said, “Give those the good tidings of a chastisement.” “Tidings” is used only of good, not bad things, so He carried one word over and applied it to another. It is said, “They are called tidings, because they relax the face,34 while bad and unpleasant things make it contract.” Al-Aʿshā said:
Yazīd screws up his eyes in front of me
like a grimace caused by the cupping vessels.
May your knitted brows never relax,
and may your face be rubbed in dirt whenever you meet me.
God (Mighty and Glorious) said, «And lower to them the wing of humbleness out of mercy.»35 This is the most magnificent and beautiful metaphor. The speech of the Bedouins works in the same way. What is the harm, then, if Abū Tammām said, “Do not make me drink blame’s bitter water!”?
22.9
Al-ʿAttābī said:
I suppress the pangs of love, but they are revealed
by yearning’s water as it seeps through my eyelids.
22.10
And Abū Nuwās said:
When I invited you to generosity, you responded,
“Here I am,” and you found the water of my speech sweet.
This will contribute (God support you) to my defense of Abū Tammām and will give you an indication of my argument on his behalf, until you hear the whole argument in my edition of his poetry, God willing.
23.1
If these critics only knew the plethora of things people have objected to in poems by skilled poets, ancient and modern, they would deem the faults they find with Abū Tammām negligible—provided they believe in judging with an equitable eye. The position of someone who faults Abū Tammām is so contemptible that it is not worth blaming. It is beyond the pale.36 Abū Tammām is a leading poet, the pioneer of a style subsequently followed by every excellent poet, even though they could not match it, to the point that it was labeled “the style of the Ṭayyite.” Every skilled poet traces his ancestry back to him and follows in his footsteps.
23.2
Before Abū Tammām poets used to be innovative in one or two verses of a poem, and were held in the highest regard for doing so. Abū Tammām, however, pushed his talent to the limits and forced himself to be innovative in most of his poetry. I swear, he did so and did so well! And if he fell short in a few verses—which he did not!—then this piffle would drown in the oceans of his excellence. Is anyone so perfect as not to be allowed a mistake, except in the fancy of the unreasonable?
23.3
Some disciplines are restricted and some unrestricted, some are closely guarded and some are widely available. The scholar who studies the unrestricted must not ignore the restricted. The one who begins with the widely available must not be unaware of the closely guarded. I say this so no one should have the audacity to sit in judgment on poets, evaluating their words and passing verdict on what is good or bad in their verse, unless he, more than anyone else, is a consummate expert in poetry and prose, and completely qualified in every aspect he turns to; and unless he has committed to memory more varieties of poetic indebtedness and influence than anyone else, and is an unrivaled expert in their topics and their intent.
23.4
How can someone who cannot even put together a single good verse or write an eloquent missive, someone who cannot remember ten motifs out of the ten thousand which have been composed, have the audacity to make such a claim? How does he get his listener to accept it? If only Abū Tammām had been put to the test by the criticism of a high-ranking expert in the discipline of poetry or at least someone who properly understood it. But he was put to the test by those who cannot tell good from bad, but can only pretend to do so.
23.5
Ziyād ibn ʿUbayd Allāh al-Ḥārithī composed a few verses on a similar subject:
If only I had been put to the test by a Hashimite,
whose maternal kin are the Banū ʿAbd al-Madān,
I would have put up with what he said.
But come, look who tested me!
23.6
Al-ʿUtbī recited:
If only noble lions, hyenas, and jackals
had toyed with my weak flesh,
This would have lessened my pain and soothed my affliction.
But it is dogs that have finished off my flesh.
23.7
The ignorance of this generation of critics, and the silliness of those who believe their unfounded claims to understanding, bring to mind this line of verse:
How can he who does not know what he wants
know what we want?
The verse is preceded by the following:
Why do I see you free?
Where are your manacles and chains?
Is iron too expensive in your land,
or can no one clap you in chains?
23.8
I cite Abū Sulaymān al-Nābulusī:
A man appeared before Ayyūb ibn Aḥmad in Barqaʿīd and recited poetry to him, but Ayyūb had begun to reprimand his female slave and was not listening. So the man went away and said:
I swear, Barqaʿīd, what a bad education
you provide!
How can he who does not know what he wants
know what we want?
How can poetry pin down
someone no one can clap in irons?37
Reason wears itself out there,
foolishness is ever fresh and new.
23.9
Yaḥyā ibn ʿAlī recited the following verses to me about al-Zajjāj:
Good God in heaven! How dull this dimwit is—
unable to string two words together when asked to open his mouth!
His repeated claims of knowledge
are all the evidence we have.
24.1
Were I not under an obligation to provide the
