The next poet of whom something must be said is 'Árifí of Herát 'Árifí of Herát, whose best-known work is the mystical and allegorical poem properly entitled Ḥál-náma (“the Book of Ecstasy”), but more commonly known, from its subject, as Gúy u Chawgán (“the Ball and the Polo-stick”), which was written in 842/1438-9 in the space of a fortnight, and for which the author received as a reward from his royal patron a horse and the sum of one thousand dínárs. * As he was, according to his own state­ment, over fifty years old at the time, he must have been born about 791/1389, the year in which the great Ḥáfíz died. His own death appears to have taken place in 853/1449.

As already mentioned, * he was called by his admirers “the second Salmán,” partly because his style was deemed similar to that of the earlier poet, and partly, as Mír 'Alí Shír informs us in his Majálisu'n-Nafá'is, because both poets suffered from weak and inflamed eyes. This is proved in the case of 'Árifí by the following verse:

<text in Arabic script omitted>

“The white salve on the red lid of my eye is exactly like powdered
salt on roast meat.”

Though almost all the biographers (except the modern Riḍá-qulí Khán in his Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá) make mention of 'Árifí, the particulars which they give about him are very meagre. His Ḥál-náma, which Jámí calls “one of his best poems,” comprises only some 500 verses. It has not, I think, been printed, but I have looked at a pretty and fairly good manuscript of it in the Cambridge University Library, * transcribed in 952/1546, and found it, I regret to confess, laboured and insipid. The following passage, describing the king's polo-pony, includes some of the specimen verses given both by Jámí and Mír 'Alí Shír, and may therefore be assumed to be a favourable sample:

<text in Arabic script omitted>

“The King of the denizens of earth Muḥammad, * whose throne is
the sun and his cushion the moon,
That King for whom, when he lifts his polo-stick, the moon becomes
the ball and heaven the playing-field.
At what time he throws his leg over the saddle he raises the dust
from the terrestrial sphere.
When his spur excites his horse, thou wouldst say that fire mingled
with wind.
When the King's polo-pony is at the gallop it snatches away the ball
from the steed of heaven.
If he did not restrain it in its leaping, it would overshoot the goal of
heaven.
When it is drenched in perspiration it is like rain with lightning in
the midst.
Fire flies from its hoof, while the whirlwind clings to its tail.”

The whole poem is filled with these ingenious and often far-fetched similes and metaphors drawn from the game of polo, but to most European readers they will seem tasteless and artificial, and the resulting product hardly worthy to be called poetry in the sense in which we understand the word.

Of the poets who died in the second half of the ninth century of the hijra (fifteenth of the Christian era) it is diffi­cult to decide which are of sufficient importance to deserve mention in a work like this, until we come to the last and greatest of them, Jámí, whose claim to be regarded as one of the most notable poets of Persia is indisputable. That there is no lack of them, so far as numbers go, will be evi­dent to anyone who consults the contemporary biographers. Thus Dawlatsháh gives notices of some two score of this period, while Mír 'Alí Shír Nawá'í in his Majálisu'n-Nafá'is (composed in the Turkí language) mentions forty-six in the first chapter (Majlis) of his work, wherein he treats of those poets who were still living in his time, though he had never met them. Some of these poets are familiar by name to students of Persian literature, and most of them ḥave pro­duced graceful verses, but few if any attain a degree of excellence which would preserve their names from oblivion but for their association with princes and rulers who gloried not only in the quality but in the quantity of the men of letters who frequented their courts and enjoyed their patronage. Dawlatsháh, implicitly recognizing this fact, often makes a brief notice of some minor poet the peg on which to hang a much fuller account of his royal patron. Thus in his notice of Sháh Ni'matu'lláh, who really has claims to distinction as a mystic if not as a poet, he con­cludes by enumerating * the chief Shaykhs, men of learning, poets and artists who added lustre to the court of Sháh-rukh. Of the poets he mentions Shaykh Ádharí of Isfará'in (d. 866/1461-2), Bábá Sawdá'í of Abíward (d. 853/1449-50), Mawláná 'Alí Shiháb of Turshíz, Amír Sháhí of Sabzawár (d. 857/1453), Kátibí of Turshíz (d. 839/1435-6), and Nasímí, “the fame of whose writings and díwáns,” he adds, “is cele­brated throughout the habitable quarter of the world.” “There were,” he concludes, “four talented artists at the court of Sháh-rukh who in their own time had no peer, Khwája 'Abdu'l-Qádir of Marágha in the art of music and roundels (adwár), Yúsuf of Andakán in singing and min­strelsy, Ustád Qiwámu'd-Dín in geometry, design and architecture, and Mawláná Khalíl the painter, who was second only to Mání.” * Yet the verses of these poets, for the most part unpublished till this day and very rare even in manuscript, were probably but little known even in their own time outside Khurásán, and we may consider ourselves fortunate if we can individualize them by some special personal characteristic or incident in their lives, such as that Ádharí visited Sháh Ni'matu'lláh, became a mystic and renounced the flattery of kings, and made a journey to India; * or that Sháhí was a descendant of the Sarbadárí rulers of Sabzawár and a Shí'a, which latter fact has won for him a long and laudatory notice in the Majálisu'l-Mú'minín (“Assemblies of true believers,” i.e. Shí'ites) of Núru'lláh ibn Sayyid Sharíf al-Mar'ashí of Shúshtar. * “Scholars are agreed,” says Dawlatsháh, * with his usual exaggeration, “that in the verse of Amír Sháhí are combined the ardour of Khusraw, the grace of Ḥasan, the delicacy of Kamál, and the clarity of Ḥáfiz.” That he entertained no mean opinion of himself is shown by the following verses which he extem­porized when assigned a lower place at the reception of some prince than that to which he considered himself entitled:*

<text in Arabic script omitted>

“O king, the revolution of heaven's wheel in a thousand years
Will not show forth one like me, unique in a hundred accomplishments.
If thou makest me to sit below everybody and nobody
Herein is a subtle point; so much I know.
Thy court is an ocean, and in the ocean, without dispute,
The pearl is at the bottom and the rubbish at the top.”

What, again, is to be thought of such a verse as this of Qudsí of Herát in which he alludes to the slobbering mouth with which he was afflicted as the result of some paralytic affection of the face?*

<text in Arabic script omitted>

“Notwithstanding such a mouth as I have
I utter verse from which water * drips.”

Such ingenuities are very characteristic of the time and place of which we are speaking, and therefore deserve notice, but they do not constitute what we understand by poetry. The following passage from Dawlatsháh * gives a good idea of what the courts of these Tímúrid princes were like.

“Now the auspicious birth of Prince Báysunghur took place in the year 802/1399-1400. He possessed a perfect comeliness and favourable fortune and prosperity. Alike in talent and in the encouragement of talent he was famous throughout the world. Calligraphy and poetry were highly esteemed in his time, and scholars and men of talent, attracted by his renown, flocked from all regions and quarters to enter his service. It is said that forty calligraphers were busy copying in his library, of which scribes the chief was Mawláná Ja'far of Tabríz. He showed favour to men of talent, loved poets, strove after refinement and luxury, and entertained witty courtiers and boon-companions. Of the kings of all times since Khusraw Parwíz * none lived so joyous and splendid a life as Báysunghur Sulṭán. He composed and appreciated good verse both in Turkí and Persian, and wrote six different hands. This verse is by him: