One of the most famous and celebrated poets and prose stylists (and calligraphers) of the Ayyubid and Mamluk periods, Bahā’ al-dīn Zuhayr (d. 656/1258) was known for his impossibly easy (sahl mumtani’) and elegant style that combined directness, sincerity, and brevity with wit and profound feelings-especially in love poetry, poetry about friendship, and praise poetry. Born in Mecca in 1186, he moved to Egypt as a young man, and there made his career, eventually moving to Cairo to become the secretary to the crown prince, al-Ṣāliḥ Ayyūb. Although his poetry and fame spread to Andalusia, and Bahā’ al-Dīn seems to have been loved for his easy and gentle character as much as for his beautiful verse and calligraphy, he was eventually expelled from court for an unknown offense. He died in 1258 when an epidemic swept through Cairo, but his poetry is still beloved and frequently-recited, especially in Egypt and Sudan, although it has yet to attract the scholarly attention it deserves. Chp. 13 of Raymond Farrin’s Abundance from the Desert is a notable and welcome exception. The British Orientalist E.H. Palmer translated his Diwan in 1876 into rhymed English verse.
Translation:
Others can manage forgetting; lovers other than me are fickle.
I have, in passion, an inner secret—and God knows best the hearts’ secrets.
My heart is like a branch, a bird ever perched upon it.
Sweet is the speech—and truly sweetness has split open the bitterness of the innermost hearts (marā’ir)*.
I complain and I give thanks for his action—so marvel at one who, in complaining of him, is thankful.
Do not deny my heart’s fluttering while my beloved is here present with me.
The heart is nothing but his home; in it, glad tidings were given to it/him.
O my forsaker in love, you left me as a proverb among all other proverbs—
My speech is never abrogated/copied (mansūkh)**—except in notebooks.
O night, you have no end that can be hoped for, likewise, longing has no end.
O night, stretch on; O longing, abide—I, in both states, endure.
I have in you the reward of one who strives/ a warrior (mujāhid)—if it is true that night is a kāfir (disbeliever/coverer).
My eye—and the star’s eye upon you—both are distracted/dim//watching (sāhin)*** and sleepless.
Lucky you: your full moon is present; would that my full moon were present too!
So my sight could discern which of the two is the more splendid and radiant.
My moon is more refined in beauties—the difference is plain as the break of day.
*marā’ir can also mean “bitterness, gall, strong, resolute, stubborn, deep-seated, profound, or twisted ropes)
**mansūkh can mean “abrogated/repealed/replaced or transcribed/copied.”
***sāhin can mean “distracted/neglectful” or “watching steadily” (in the case of an eye) and al-suhā names a dim northern star in Ursa Major often contrasted with the moon or Suheyl.
Original:
غَيري عَلى السَلوانِ قادِر
وَسِوايَ في العُشّاقِ غادِر
لي في الغَرامِ سَريرَةٌ
وَاللَهُ أَعلَمُ بِالسَرائِر
وَمُشَبَّهٌُ بِالغُصنِ قَل
بي لا يَزالُ عَلَيهِ طائِر
حُلوُ الحَديثِ وَإِنَّها
لَحَلاوَةٌ شَقَّت مَرائِر
أَشكو وَأَشكُرُ فِعلَهُ
فَأَعجَب لِشاكٍ مِنهُ شاكِر
لا تُنكِروا خَفَقانَ قَل
بي وَالحَبيبُ لَدَيَّ حاضِر
مَا لقَلبُ إِلّا دارُهُ
ضُرِبَت لَهُ فيها البَشائِر
يا تارِكي في حُبِّهِ
مَثَلاً مِنَ الأَمثالِ سائِر
أَبَداً حَديثي لَيسَ بِال
مَنسوخِ إِلّا في الدَفاتِر
يا لَيلُ مالَكَ آخِرٌ
يُرجى وَلا لِلشَوقِ آخِر
يا لَيلُ طُل ياشَوقُ دُم
إِنّي عَلى الحالَينِ صابِر
لِيَ فيكَ أَجرُ مُجاهِدٍ
إِن صَحَّ أَنَّ اللَيلَ كافِر
طَرفي وَطَرفُ النَجمِ في
كَ كِلاهُما ساهٍ وَساهِر
يَهنيكَ بَدرُكَ حاضِرٌ
يا لَيتَ بَدري كانَ حاضِر
حَتّى يَبينَ لِناظِري
مَن مِنهُما زاهٍ وَزاهِر
بَدري أَرَقُّ مَحاسِناً
وَالفَرقُ مِثلُ الصُبحِ ظاهِر