Epitome of Wisdom, Poem (l. 1-6)

“The price of wisdom is above rubies,” the Biblical Book of Job declares. “Whoever has been given wisdom has certainly been given much good,” we find in the Quran. Wisdom has a perennial appeal to the human spirit, and since ancient times, poets across the world have been attempting to capture it in lines of wisdom poetry.

The poem Epitome of Wisdom (`Unwan al-Hikam) by Abul-Fath al-Bosti (d. 1010 CE / 401H) is perhaps the most famous piece of wisdom poetry in Arabic. Below is my translation of the first six lines. I have translated each hemistich as a separate line, as is my wont, and so the English below comprises twelve lines, in pentametric rhyming couplets. The original Arabic follows. I am hoping to continue translating the rest of the poem over the next few months, as time permits.

Know well that more in worldly things is less,
And profit, save in goodness pure, is loss.
And all enjoyment that lacks permanence
Is ultimately naught but indigence.
You who intently builds what nigh will end,
In this will you your precious life expend?
And you, assiduous for your wealth to grow,
Did you forget that wealth's delight is woe?
From this world and its glint detach your heart;
A turbid draught t'is which will soon depart.
Give ear to these wise aphorisms mine,
Well-burnished for you like a diamond fine.

 

1 – زِيَادَة الْمَرْء فِي دُنْيَاهُ نُقْصَان … وَربحه غير مَحْض الْخَيْر خسران
2 – وكل وجدان حَظّ لاثبات لَهُ … فَإِن مَعْنَاهُ فِي التَّحْقِيق فقدان
3 – يَا عَامِرًا لخراب الدَّار مُجْتَهدا … بِاللَّه هَل لخراب الْعُمر عمرَان
4 – وَيَا حَرِيصًا على الْأَمْوَال تجمعها … أنسيت أَن سرُور المَال أحزان
5 – زع الْفُؤَاد عَن الدُّنْيَا وَزينتهَا … فصفوها كدر والوصل هجران
6 – وأرع سَمعك أَمْثَالًا أفصلها … كَمَا يفصل ياقوت ومرجان

– Suheil Laher

PICTURE CREDITS:

Turbidity: Gerd Altmann, https://pixabay.com/en/smoke-steam-diesigkeit-veil-smog-108664/

Foggy Path: Erich Westendarp, https://pixabay.com/en/fog-fields-dirt-track-bauerschaft-3097079/

Abul-Fath al-Bosti, Biography

`Ali ibn Muhammad al-Bosti (d. 1010 CE / 401H) belletrist and leading poet and prose-writer of his time. He hailed from the central Asian city of Bost, (known today as Lashkargah, in south-western Afghanistan). Bosti’s language was ornate, displaying skillful use of rhetorical embellishment techniques, especially paranomasia of which he was considered a master.

He is renowned for his wisdom poetry and aphorisms, particularly the Epitome of Wisdom (عُنوان الحكم), a 63-line poem that came to be widely memorized among cultured people, including commonly being taught to children. The biographer Dhahabi (d. 748H) described the poem as “a long, superlatively exquisite poem, in wide currency among people of virtue.” Several commentaries were written on it, and it was translated to Persian.

Busti was also a Shafi`i jurist, and active in the field of hadith studies (his teachers in this field include the famous hadith-master Ibn Hibban (d. 965 CE / 354H), and among those who transmitted hadith from the poet are al-Hakim al-Naysaburi (d. 405H) and Abu `Uthman al-Sabuni (d. 449H).

[Sources: Dhahabi, Siyar A`lam al-Nubala; Yaqut, Muj`am al-Buldan; `Abdul-Fattah Abu-Ghudda (ed.), `Unwan al-Hikam]

PICTURE CREDITS:

• Sunset over Helmand River, Abdul Wali on Wikipedia, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sunset_over_Helmand_River.JPG
• Bost map: adapted from Wikipedia image at https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Afghanistan_adm_location_map.svg

Liminality of the Muḍāf (I)

Thresholds are sites of ambiguity, and even danger. It is said that in the past, people believed that evil spirits could lurk by the entrance to a home, and that therefore a man would carry his newly-wedded wife across the threshold in order to prevent her from being harmed by the demons of the threshold. This post is not about superstitions, but rather about a storm-in-a-teapot grammatical point. I draw on the concept of threshold to mediate in the debate over whether the mudaf (in Arabic syntax) is definite or indefinite.

The idafa – a grammatical structure that comprises an apposition of two nouns – is used in Arabic (and some other Semitic languages) to convey a relationship (often, but not necessarily, possession) between the two nouns. For example:

كتاب زيدٍ kitabu-Zayd(in)

“the book of Zayd” / “Zayd’s book.”

Note that there are no prepositions or enclitics involved in the idafa structure; the relationship (of possession, etc) is conveyed merely by the apposition of the two nouns, along with the second noun being invariably in the genitive case (which is often indicated by the -in declensional suffix). There is no disagreement over the meaning (and English translation) of the “Zayd’s book” example I just cited. Everyone agrees that in cases like this, where the second term of the apposition (mudaf ilayhi) is definite, the first term (the mudaf) is also definite by mere virtue of its relationship to the former. (Actually, that’s a simplification – be wary when anyone says ‘always,’ ‘never’ or ‘everyone agrees’ in grammar – but I’ll let it slide for now.)

The controversy arises over the mudaf‘s definiteness when the second term (mudaf ilayhi) of the apposition is indefinite, e.g.

كتاب رجلٍ kitabu-rajul(in)

Is it “the book of a man” ? Or, “a book of a man” ?

Of course, one could sidestep the debate by simply translating the term as, “a man’s book,” but grammar enthusiasts will be interested in resolving the issue: is the mudaf in this case considered definite or indefinite? The issue has been much discussed (with some people expressing their opinion on the matter very forcefully), on online forums such as here and here.

Arguments for Indefiniteness (The Classical Grammarians’ Position)

Classical Arab grammarians (as far back as the legendary Sibawayh, d. 180H / 796 CE) have declared that the definiteness status of the mudaf depends on the mudaf ilayhi. In other words, if the second term is definite, then the first term is also definite, and if the second term is indefinite then the first term is indefinite.

قال سيبويه في الكتاب: المضاف إنما يكون معرفة ونكرة بالمضاف إليه

So, according to this, we should translate as follows:

كتاب رجلٍ kitabu-rajul(in)

“a book of a man”

According to the classical grammarians in general, then, if the mudaf ilayhi is indefinite then the mudaf is not considered definite, but it is considered qualified (specified, مخصوص).

The following arguments can be cited in support of this position

1. The default state of nouns is considered to be the indefinite (نكرة) state, and therefore in cases of ambiguity about the level of definiteness, one would tend to leave a word with the default (‘indefinite’) classification.

2. An adjective for such a mudaf is typically indefinite, e.g.

لِسَانَ صِدْقٍ عَلِيًّا = “A high reputation (literally: tongue) of honor” (Quran, 19:50)

3. Since an idafa with a definite mudaf is clearly ‘more definite’ (أعرَف) than one with an indefinite mudaf, perhaps putting these on either side of the threshold served as a convenient way to indicate this.

Far be it from me – a mere dabbler in Arabic grammar – to question or critique a master grammarian like Sibawayh. What I will do, however, is to explain the setting of the issue in order to show that the act of definition (here, and often) contains a subjective (and hence arbitrary) element; something that the classical grammarians themselves were often aware of. Having established this ambiguity, I feel there is no harm in leveraging it to help address the Arabic-English translator’s quandary of whether to translate كتاب رجلٍ as ‘a book of a man’ or ‘the book of a man.’

For starters, we can mention that the classical grammarians did make an exception to the rule that a mudaf’s definiteness or indefiniteness matches that of the mudaf ilayh. If the mudaf is a word that is a word of vagueness (متوغِّل في الإبهام , literally: ‘deeply (immersed) in its vagueness’), then the mudaf remains indefinite even if the mudaf ilayhi is definite; it does not acquire definiteness, nor even specificity (تخصيص).

The most common words in this ‘vague’ category are:

غير	حسب	مثل
other than	in accordance with	similar to

Thus, for example:              غير زيدٍ = “other than Zayd”,  and the word غير here is considered indefinite, even though its mudaf ilayhi is definite.

…. to be continued

PICTURE CREDIT: “Storm in Teacup” : Modified form of original image by NagualDesign taken from: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Storm_in_a_teacup.jpghttps://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Storm_in_a_teacup.jpg

Unforgotten Favors

A touching anecdote about an unforgotten act of kindness, capped off by some beautiful lines of poetry about the moral obligation of gratitude (my English translations in iambic pentameter blank verse, along with the original Arabic). Both the pieces (coincidentally) involve Buwayhid viziers.

The Vizier Muhallabi (Abu Muhammad al-Hasan ibn Muhammad al-Azdi, d. 352H / 963CE) was appointed as vizier in the Buwayhid court of Mu`izz al-Dawla in 339H / 950 CE. Before his attachment to the royal court, he was once traveling, and wished for meat, but due to extremely straitened circumstances was unable to afford any. In his frustration, he spontaneously composed the following lines of poetry, in which he wishes he could die!¹

Is there not death for sale that I could buy? For in this life of mine, I see no good. Can not delicious-tasting death now come, And liberate me from this hateful life? Whenever from afar I see a grave, I wish that I were buried next to him. Shan't I beseech Almighty God to bless, That man who'll charitably gift me death?

ألا موت يباع فأشتريه ** فهذا العيش مالا خير فيه ألا موت لذيذ الطعم يأتي ** يخلصني من العيش الكريه إذا أبصرت قبرا من بعيد ** وددت لو أنني مما يليه ألا رحم المهيمن نفس حر ** تصدق بالوفاة على أخيه

One of his travelling companions (named either Abu `Abdullah al-Sufi, or Abul-Husayn al-`Asqalani), upon hearing this pitiable lament, went and purchased some meat with one silver coin (dirham). He cooked the meat and fed it to Muhallabi, and the two men parted ways soon after.

The vicissitudes of fortune proved such that Muhallabi went on to be appointed vizier in the royal court, while his former travel companion fell upon hard times. The latter, hearing of Muhallabi’s new position, sought him out in Baghdad, and sent him a small chit bearing the following lines of poetry:

O tell the vizier – dearer than myself – These words, reminding of what's long forgot! Remember when in misery you said: Is there not death for sale that I could buy?

ألا قل للوزير فدته نفسي ** مقالة مذكر ما قد نسيه أتذكر إذ تقول لضنك عيش ** ألا موت يباع فأشتريه

When Muhallabi read the note, the reminder of his former state of indigence drew out his deepest feelings of generosity. He immediately commanded that the man be given 700 silver coins (dirhams), along with a note on which he wrote the Quranic verse meaning:

“The likeness of those who spend their money in the cause of God is that of a grain from which grow seven ears, each ear containing a hundred grains. And God multiples for whom He wills.” (Quran, 2:261)

He then summoned the man into his presence, bestowed a fine robe upon him, and appointed him to comfortable job as a state functionary.

[Source: Ibn Khallikan, Wafayat al-A`yan, 2/124-5]

A later Buwayhid Vizier and belletrist, Abul-Qasim al-Maghribi (d. 418H / 1027 CE) wrote the following lines of poetry, which rather beautifully capture sentiments such as those underlying the above story. He wrote:

The debts of acts of kindness are not paid The same way as financial debts are paid. But in the hearts of noble folk they'll hang, Suspended like a mote floats in the eye.

ديون المكارم لا تقتضى ** كما تقتضى واجبات الديون ولكنها في قلوب الكرام ** تجول مجال القذى في العيون

[Source: Ihsan `Abbas, al-Wazir al-Maghribi, p. 158]

1 On the theological dispproval of explicitly praying for death, see the following hadith: https://sunnah.com/bukhari/75/32

PICTURE CREDIT: Cara Sweeney https://pixabay.com/en/thanks-appreciation-gratitude-font-418358/