قال الشاعر [طويل]
| على المَرءِ أَنْ يَسعَى لِما فيه نَفعُهُ | ولَيسَ عَليه أَنْ يُساعِدَهُ الدَّهرُ |
(وفي بعض الكتب المُنْزَلة) يقول الله تعالى يا عبدي خلقتك من حركة تحرّكْ أَرْزَقُك وفي المثل الحركة فيها بركة وقال الإمام الشافعيّ رضي الله تعالى عنه شعر [طويل]
| تَغَرَّبْ عَنِ الأوطانِ في طَلَبِ العُلَى | وسافرْ ففي الأسفار خَمسُ فَوائِدِ |
| تفرُّج١ هَمٍّ واكتسابُ مَعيشَةٍ | وعِلْمٌ وآدابٌ وصُحْبةُ ماجِدِ |
| فإنْ قيل في الأسفارِ ذُلٌ وغُرْبَةٌ | وتَشتيتُ شَمْلٍ واجتِماعُ شَدائِدِ |
| فَمَوتُ الفَتَى خَيرٌ لَه مِن حَياتِهِ | بِدارِ هَوانٍ بَينَ واشٍ وحاسَدِ |
فاتّضح الجواب باتّفاق * عن وجه هذا الاشتقاق * وقوله
١ بي: تفريج.
A Silly Debate: What is the wisdom in deriving qill from qawlaq, or from qullah, or from qalqalah, and how do they fit with one another, and what do these words mean? The fatuous response: qawlaq77 is the name for a leather thing that is made to keep money in and tied onto the belt on the right thigh; some coffee waiters and others use it. The derivation of qill from qawlaq comes from the latter’s crampedness and its lack of room, since qill denotes a cramped life and lack of ease; thus it fits the meaning from that perspective. As for its derivation from qullah (“water pitcher”), with u after the q, this could be for one of several reasons. It may be because water is retained within it, in which case want and lack of good fortune are analogous to the presence or absence of the water. Alternatively, the fit may lie in the actual narrowness of the qullah and the fact that the water has to pass through narrow holes in order to come out,78 and that, when submerged in water, it makes a gurgling sound, as though it were complaining to the water. As the poet says:
The mug makes a gurgle because it’s in pain:
It protests to the water what it suffered from the flame.
This process of firing implies distress and hardship, so it fits with the derivation of qill from that perspective. The third opinion states that it is derived from qalqalah (“agitation, convulsion”). From this point of view qill would be from the agitatedness (qalqalah) of events, that is, the speed with which they move, their intensity, and the distressing circumstances to which they give rise and so on. As the poet79 says:
Stir (qalqil) your stirrups in the steppes (falā)
And leave the pretty girls at home.
Like dwellers in the grave to me are those
Who never from their homelands roam.
—that is, move your stirrups “in the falā,” which means the wide-open spaces. The meaning is: Go east and west, and acquire whatever will relieve you of having to beg from others, and be not a burden upon them, and do not humiliate yourself before them, and leave the ghawānī—plural of ghāniyah, which means “a female possessed of beauty”; that is, abandon any such and do not allow yourself to be distracted by her from seeking your livelihood, for that distraction may lead to inactivity and idleness, in which case you will not find the wherewithal to spend on her and her heart will turn to someone else, with all sorts of evil consequences. If, on the other hand, you bestir yourself and leave her and then come back with all the things she needs to assuage her hunger and clothe her nakedness, she will stay with you just as your heart would desire and in perfect felicity. And even if you benefit little from your efforts and journeys, what you get will still be better for you than doing nothing. As the poet says:
Man must work for what he needs,
And Fate is not obliged to help.
In one of the Revealed Books, the Almighty says, “My slave, I created you from motion; move and I will provide for you!” and the proverb says, “In activity is blessing,”80 and the Imam al-Shāfiʿī,81 may the Almighty be pleased with him, says:
Leave your lands and seek advancement!
Go abroad, for there are five good things in travel:
Escape from care and a way to earn your living,
Knowledge, savoir faire, and the friendship of the noble.
Though some say travel means abjection in exile,
And loss of one’s friends and meeting with trouble,
Still better a young man die than live
In ignominy ’midst jealousy and tittle-tattle.
Thus the answer now is clear, all can agree, and the nature of this derivation’s plain to see.
١٩،١،١١
(جسْمو) الضمير راجع للناظم أي جسمه وهو ذاته مشتقّ من التَجَسُّم أو من المُجَسِّمَة وهم طائفة يقولون بالحلول والتجسيم قبّحهم الله تعالى أو من جسم العاشق إذا أنحله بُعْد الحبيب ولم يجد له دواء ولا طبيب وقوله
jismū (“his body”): the pronoun suffix refers to the poet, that is, “his body” means “his person,” the word being derived from tajassum (“corporeality”) or from al-mujassimah (“the Corporealists”), which is a sect that holds to the doctrine of incarnation and corporealization,82 may the Almighty disfigure them, or from jism al-ʿāshiq (“the body of the lover”), when the latter is worn thin by separation from the beloved and the poet can find neither medicine nor doctor for it.
٢٠،١،١١
(ما يضال) كلمة ريفيّة
