A literary history of Persia - The Literary History of Persia, Volume 3

Attention has already been called to the curious but indisputable fact that in Persia, at any rate, periods of great Stable government not necessarily conducive to good poetry turmoil and disorder have generally produced the finest poetry, while periods of relative prosperity, when the country was under a strong and stable government, have generally been singularly barren in this respect. ^207a In comparatively modern times Persia has never been more strong, united and prosperous than under the Ṣafawí dynasty (A.D. 1502-1736), more particularly during the sixteenth century; yet, though, not only in military strength, national unity and commerce, but also in the arts (especially architecture and painting) and the sciences (especially theology), this period was particularly brilliant, it hardly produced a single poet of commanding genius or wide-spread reputation; a phenomenon of which the causes will be discussed when we come to speak of the epoch in question. The period with the literary aspects of which we are now about to deal is, on the other hand, as will have been sufficiently apparent from the preceding chapter, one of anarchy, misery and bloodshed; yet it would be hard to indicate any period of seventy years (A.D. 1335-1405) which produced so many remarkable poets, a galaxy of talent in which the great Ḥáfiẓ is merely the brightest of many brilliant stars. Probably the existence of numerous little courts, each anxious to rival and excel the others, is favourable to the development of poetical talent, since the poet who fails to win appreciation from one royal patron can easily find another who may prove more susceptible to his song; while, when there is but one capital and one court, he who fails there (not necessarily from lack of talent so much as from lack of opportunity, ill fortune, or the machinations of jealous rivals) is likely to be permanently discouraged, or at least to remain unknown outside his own immediate circle.

From this point of view, Persia, immediately after the collapse of the Mongol power, and before the irruption ^208a of Anarchical condition of Persia from the extinction of the Mongol power to the rise of Tímúr Tímúr the Tartar, was an ideal field for the wandering poet. In the North-East, with their capital at Herát, were the Kurt princes; at Sabzawár and the neighbourhood the little Sarbadár dynasty (if such it can be called) held sway; the Íl-khanís, Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Buzurg, his son Sulṭán Uways, and their descendants, ruled over a curious elliptical domain which had its northern capital at Tabríz and its southern capital at Baghdád; while Southern Persia was divided amongst princes of the House of Muẓaffar, often independent of, and even at war with, one another, with Shíráz, Iṣfahán, Yazd and Kirmán as their seats of government. There were no hard and fast frontiers to these little states, and no map could be made showing the divisions of these fluid, ever-shifting kingdoms; rather, if we wish to reconstruct the political geography of Persia at that period, we must conceive of some seven or eight centres whence radiated, in ever-varying strength, the influence of as many petty warrior-princes, whose truculent activities were oftener than not combined with a fine literary taste.

Of the poets of this period some ten at least deserve mention, either on account of their evident originality and Number and excellence of the poets of this period beauty, or because of the reputation which they enjoy in their own country. These two things do not necessarily go together, but either of them seems to me to entitle a poet at any rate to honourable mention; for a foreign critic must always entertain some mistrust of his judgements, and must remember that, strive as he may, he can hardly hope to develop the fine and discriminating taste of the cultivated By what criterions poets may be judged by a foreign critic native critic, and that the mere fact that a poet has maintained his reputation amongst his own countrymen for several centuries entitles him at least to some respectful consideration. This applies to lyrical poets like Khwájú and 'Imád of Kirmán and Kamál of Khujand, of whom one is apt to think as mere dim reflections of the incomparable Ḥáfiẓ, devoid of any salient originality; but it must not be forgotten that the first died 37 and the second 18 years before him, and that they may therefore well have prepared the way for his greater achievements, while the eminence of the third, who was his contemporary, is to a certain extent certified by Ḥáfiẓ himself in the verse—

which is translated by Rosenzweig-Schwannau—^209a

“Wenn er erst Hafisens Lieder höret,
Die als zart und lieblich Jeder kennt,
Wird sich selbst Kemāl nicht unterfangen
Dichtend aufzutreten in Chodschend.”

On the other hand poets like 'Ubayd-i-Zákání and Busḥaq (Abú Isḥáq) are so original that, whether appreciated or not in their own country, they cannot be ignored by any student of Persian literature.

I propose, therefore, to discuss in this chapter the following poets, and, that priority may be duly considered Untrustworthiness of most of the Persian biographers of poets in relation to actual merit, in chronological order. This, however, can only be regarded as approximate, since in most cases the date of death only is recorded (and that often uncertainly), and we often do not know whether the poet died young or at an advanced old age. Indeed, notwithstanding the numerous biographies of poets given by Dawlatsháh, and in the Atash-kada, Haft Iqlím and other similar wellknown works, the lack of authentic particulars as to the lives and characters of these poets is a very discouraging feature in our quest. Most of the anecdotes given in these books are trivial or fictitious, and, save for what can be gleaned from their verses (where again we are often Lack of critical editions hampered by the lack of anything approaching a critical edition), we are finally driven to admit that we know very little indeed about most of them. They were generally poor men, often socially obscure, and as such were completely ignored by contemporary historians, while all that later generations, who appreciated their merit, could do was, as a rule, to string together a few more or less trivial anecdotes, evidently constructed in many cases to explain or illustrate passages in their poems. An exception must be made in favour of one rare manuscript work, the Mujmal (“Compendium”) of Faṣíḥí of Khwáf, ^210a a chronicle of some thousand pages compiled in 845/1441-2 and containing many valuable details not to be found elsewhere, especially in what concerns the province of Khurásán in general, and the city of Herát in particular.

The poets of this period whom I propose to discuss are the following:

(1) Ibn-i-Yamín (d. 745/1345 according to Dawlatsháh, ^210b or 769/1368 according to the more authoritative Mujmal) was associated with the Sarbadár dynasty.

(2) Khwájú of Kirmán (d. 753/1352, or, according to Dawlatsháh, 742/1341-2).

(3) 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, the great satirist and parodist (d. 772/1371).

(4) 'Imád of Kirmán (d. 773/1372).

(5) Salmán of Sáwa (d. 779/1378), the panegyrist of Sulṭán Uways.

(6) Ḥáfiẓ of Shírâz (d. 791/1389).

(7) Kamál of Khujand (d. 793/1391, or 803/1400).

(8) Maghribí, the mystic (d. 809/1407).

(9) Busḥaq (Abú Isḥáq) of Shíráz, the gastronomic poet (d. 814/1416).

(10) Níẓámu'd-Dín Maḥmúd Qárí of Yazd, the poet of clothes.

Of each of these poets I shall now proceed to speak in detail.

Although notices of this poet and his father Yamínu'd-Dín (from whom he derives the name Ibn-i-Yamín—“son of Yamín”—by which he is commonly known) occur in Dawlatsháh, ^211a the Haft Iqlím, Átash-kada, ^211b Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá ^211c and other biographical works, the few particulars about him which are known to us are chiefly derived from the rare Mujmal of Faṣíḥí. In this work Ibn-i-Yamín is thrice mentioned, under the years 743/1342-3, and 769/ 1367-8, the year of his death.

The first of these two notices, so far as it concerns Ibn-i-Yamín, runs as follows:

“War of Malik Mu'izzu'd-Dín Abu'l-Ḥusayn Muḥammad-i-Kurt with Khwájá Wajíhu'd-Dín Mas'úd-i-Sarbadár and Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Júrí between Záwa and Khwáf, and death of Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Júrí at the hands of Khwájá Wajíhu'd-Dín Mas'úd's men on the 13th of Ṣafar [A.H. 743 = July 18, 1342], and flight of Khwájá Wajíhu'd-Dín.

“Loss of the Díwán (complete poetical works) of the late Amír Fakhru'l-Ḥaqq wa'd-Dín Maḥmúd ibn-i-Yamín the Mustawfí (government accountant) of Faryúmad, which was looted in the battle mentioned above. Here is the fragment [in which Ibn-i-Yamín refers to this event]:

‘It fell into the hands of the spoilers, and thereafter no trace of it was
found.’

“The above-mentioned Amír Fakhru'd-Dín Maḥmúd [Ibn-i-Yamín] sent the following fragment which he had composed from Sabzawár to Malik Mu'izzu'd-Dín Abu'l-Ḥusayn-i-Kurt:

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“Seek as they might his Díwán was not to be found, so he made a [fresh] compilation from the anthologies of the Masters [of this art], and from what each [amateur of verse] remembered by heart, and from what he himself subsequently composed:

‘So that my verses, scattered like the Seven Thrones, ^213a
Might be again co-ordinated like the Pleiades.’”

This ends the first notice of Ibn-i-Yamín in the Mujmal, but, before passing on to the second, I should give a translation of the fourteen couplets quoted above, which, if not remarkable as poetry, are of interest on account of the data which they afford.

“If Heaven, by a trick, snatched my Díwán out of my hands,
Thanks be to God! He who made the Díwán ^214a is still with me!
And if Fate plucked from me a string of pearls fit for a king,
Yet I grieve not at its loss, since the remedy is with me.
And if the wind tore a flower from a branch of the rose-bush of my
talent,
A garden full of anemones, eglantine and basil is still with me.
And if one of my shells of brilliant pearls was emptied,
I still have a mind filled with pearls like the sea of 'Ummán.
What matters it if a few drops of the sputterings of my pen are lost?
There still remains with me a talent bountiful as the April cloud!
If the sweet water of my verse has been cast to the winds like dust
It matters little, for with me is the Fountain of the Water of Life.
And though my heart is grieved at the loss of my Díwán,
Why should I grieve at this, since my pearl-producing genius re-
mains?
And if the praise of the King of the World is, like the fame of his
justice,
Spread abroad throughout the earth, the praise-producing talent is
mine!
Although I could compile another Díwán, yet
My life's work is wasted, and regret for this remains with me.
If this vile Age is unkind to me, what matter
If the favours of the King of the Age are mine?
That just Prince Mu'izzu'd-Dín, whose virtue cries,
‘Whatever of glory can enter the Phenomenal World is mine.’
The chief of the favours which in all circumstances
The King of the Age doth show me amongst all my peers
Is this, that by his favour one of noble rank says to me
‘Rejoice, O Ibn-i-Yamín, for the constituent parts of the Díwán
are in my possession!’
Life has passed: may he continue successful until Eternity,
And may the daily portion of me his servant be prayers for the
King so long as life remains to me!”

The second entry in the Mujmal is very brief, and Date of Ibn-i-Yamín's death merely records the death of Ibn-i-Yamín on the 8th of Jumáda ii, 769 (Jan. 30, 1368), this date being further commemorated in the following chronogram:

This is followed by a quatrain ^215a said to have been uttered by the poet a little before his death:

“Regard not Ibn-i-Yamín's heart of woe;
See how from out this transient world I go.
Qur'án in hand and smiling, forth I wend
With Death's dread messenger to seek the Friend.”

Dawlatsháh devotes an article to the poet's father as well as to himself (Nos. 6 and 7 of the fifth Ṭabaqa), but Particulars given by Dawlatsháh concerning Ibn-i-Yamín and his father contributes few material or trustworthy facts, though he cites one fine poem of 14 couplets by the former, whose death he places in the year 724/1324. According to him Amír Yamínu'd-Dín, the father of our poet, was of Turkish origin; settled as a landowner at Faryúmad, where his son was born, in the reign of the Mongol Sulṭán Khudá-banda; and enjoyed the favour and patronage of Khwája 'Alá'u'd-Dín Muḥam-mad, who was in the fiscal service of Sulṭán Abú Sa'íd, and who was killed near Astarábád by the Sarbadárs in 737/1336-7. Concerning the son, Ibn-i-Yamín, he tells us little, save that he was the panegyrist of the Sarbadárs, which is doubtful, and that he died in 745/1344-5, which is almost certainly incorrect; but he endeavours to make up for this dearth of information by a digression of ten pages on the history of the little Sarbadár dynasty, which lasted about fifty years and was finally extinguished by Tímúr about 788/1386. The Haft Iqlím, Átash-kada and Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá practically yield no further information, except that the last-named work states that Ibn-i-Yamín was the panegyrist of Ṭughá-Tímúr. Owing to the loss of his Díwán, as described above, it is impossible to determine with certainty who were his patrons and to whom his panegyrics were chiefly addressed.

Ibn-i-Yamín's extant work consists of his Muqaṭṭa'át, or “Fragments,” most of which are of a philosophical, ethical Extant poems of Ibn-i-Yamín or mystical character. An edition of them was printed at Calcutta in 1865, and I also possess a pretty and carefully-written manuscript dated Rajab 5, 881 (Oct. 24, 1476). A German rendering of many of these poems by Schlechta-Wssehrd has also been published . ^216a The following fine verses on the evolution of the soul are amongst the best and most celebrated of Ibn-i-Yamín's poems:

The following is a rather free translation of the above:

“From the void of Non-Existence to this dwelling-house of clay
I came, and rose from stone to plant; but that hath passed away!
Thereafter, through the working of the Spirit's toil and strife,
I gained, but soon abandoned, some lowly form of life:
That too hath passed away!
In a human breast, no longer a mere unheeding brute,
This tiny drop of Being to a pearl I did transmute:
That too hath passed away!
At the Holy Temple next did I foregather with the throng
Of Angels, compassed it about, and gazed upon it long:
That too hath passed away!
Forsaking Ibn-i-Yamín, and from this too soaring free,
I abandoned all beside Him, so that naught was left but HE:
All else hath passed away!”

The same ideas have been equally well expressed, how- A parallel passage on the evolution of the soul from the Mathnawí ever, by the great mystical poet Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí, who lived a century earlier, in a very well-known passage of the Mathnawí which runs as follows:

“I died from mineral and plant became;
Died from the plant, and took a sentient frame;
Died from the beast, and donned a human dress;
When by my dying did I e'er grow less?
Another time from manhood I must die
To soar with angel-pinions through the sky.
'Midst Angels also I must lose my place,
Since ‘Everything shall perish save His Face.’
Let me be Naught! The harp-strings tell me plain
That ‘unto Him do we return again!’”^218a

(Another Fragment)

“Only for one of reasons twain the wise
Possession of this varied world do prize:
Either to benefit their friends thereby,
Or else to trample down some enemy.
But he who seeketh wealth upon this earth,
And knoweth not wherein consists its worth
Is as the gleaner, who with toil doth bind
His sheaf, then casts the harvest to the wind.
Naught but a weary soul and aching back
Accrue to those who understanding lack.”

The following is typical in its Manichæan and Malthusian pessimism:

“Knowest thou wherefore the child no gratitude bears
E'en to the father who makes him the chief of his heirs?
‘'Twas thou,’ he seems to say, ‘who my peace didst mar
By bringing me into a world where such miseries are!’”

The fragment next following also represents a line of thought common with Ibn-i-Yamín and others of his school:

“That God who on Creation's Primal Day ^219a
The first foundations of thy soul did lay,
Who in His Wisdom did for forty morns
Fashion the house of clay thy soul adorns,^219b

Who bade the Pen ^220a inscribe upon thy brow
Whate'er betided thee from then till now,
It ill beseems Him on the Judgement-Day
‘This was well done, and that done ill’ to say!
For he who sows the camel-thorn can ne'er
Expect the aloe-tree to blossom there.
Since, then, the Muslim and the Christian stand
Subject alike to His supreme command,
‘Why should He give,’ in wonder ask the wise,
‘To this one Hell, to that one Paradise?’”

(Another Fragment)

“Whoe'er he be, wherever he may dwell
A man should strive to guard his honour well;
Conceit and folly he should put aside,
And turn his back on arrogance and pride;
Should so behave that none through him should e'er
Endure vexation equal to a hair;
None should despise for lack of power or pelf,
And deem each neighbour better than himself;
Then all his energies and wealth should spend
That so perchance he thus may gain a friend.”

(Another Fragment)

“A corner which no stranger can explore,
Where no one bores you, and you no one bore,
A sweetheart, lute and song, a friend or two—
At most a party not exceeding four;
A harp, a zither, roasted meats and wine,
A cup-bearer who is a friend of thine,
Reason, which doth distinguish good and ill,
Regarding not thy ploy with eyes malign!

Whoever doth disparage such affair
Is in the spirit-world devoid of share;
To Ibn-i-Yamín should such luck accrue
For no one in this world or that he'd care!”

The following fragment is practically a paraphrase of some very well-known Arabic verses ascribed to Qábús ibn Washmgír, Prince of Ṭabaristán (reigned A.D. 976-1012), which are quoted in the Story of the Merchant and the Jinní in the Arabian Nights:^221a

“Not as I would, O friends, the world doth go:
Of men of genius 'tis the constant foe.
Though fickle Fortune trouble me, what then?
Trouble's the portion of all noble men.
The sky holds countless stars, of which not one
Suffers eclipse, except the moon and sun.
'Tis custom now that he who wants for wits
Ever above the man of talent sits,
As on the sea the dust and rubbish swim
While pearls lie sunk in its abysses dim.”

Although nearly all the well-known biographies, such as Dawlatsháh, ^222a the Haft Iqlím, the Átash-kada, ^222b the Khwájú of Kirmán Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá, ^222c etc., contain notices of Khwájú of Kirmán, they are singularly jejune and lacking in precise information, while such precise information as is given is often demonstrably incorrect. Indeed the carelessness with which these works are compiled and copied is deplorable. To take one instance only, Riḍá-qulí Khán, in spite of his undeniable attainments as a poet, a lexicographer and a historian, states in the Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá that Khwájú was the panegyrist of Sulṭán Abú Sa'íd Khán, who reigned from 716-736/1316-1335, and immediately afterwards gives the year of his death as 503/1109-1110, which is evidently a careless mistake for 753. Dawlatsháh, who gives 742/1341-2 as the year of his decease, describes him as belonging to a good family in Kirmán, where, however, he spent but a small part of his life, though in some verses quoted on the same page, ^223a and evidently composed at Baghdád, he speaks of his native town with longing and affection:

Verses showing his love of his native place Kirmán “Pleasant the fragrant and sweet-scented blast
Which o'er the earth of Kirmán late hath passed!
Pleasant the days of that sweet Philomel
Which in its groves and gardens fair doth dwell!
What fault was mine that Heaven did decree
From that pure land I must an exile be?
Wherefore in Baghdád city must I dwell
That tears like Tigris from mine eyes may well?”^223b

During his travels, according to the Haft Iqlím, Khwájú made the acquaintance of many of his contemporaries amongst the poets and men of letters, and became the disciple of the eminent and pious Shaykh Ruknu'd-Dín 'Alá'u'd-Dawla of Simnán, with a sketch of whose life Dawlatsháh seeks to compensate us for the exiguity ^223c of his information about the proper subject of his biography. Rieu ^223d quotes some verses in which a little-known contemporary poet named Ḥaydar of Shíráz fiercely attacks Khwájú, whom he calls “a Kábulí thief from Kirmán town,” as a plagiarist. He says:

“Do not mention the name of Khwájú before a poet,
For he is a thief from the Díwán of Sa'dí.
Since he cannot compete in verse even with me
How dares he talk about Sa'dí?”

I can find no mention of Khwájú in the Mujmal of Faṣíḥí, but Ḥamdu'lláh Mustawfí of Qazwín accords him References to Khwájú in the chief biographies of poets a brief notice and cites one of his poems in the Ta'ríkh-i-Guzída, which was completed in 730/1330, ^224a so that even during his lifetime he was evidently well-known throughout Persia. He is also mentioned in the Majálisu'l-Mú'minín, that late but extensive biographical work on the ornaments of the Shí'a sect of Islám, which, however, in this case does little more than copy Dawlatsháh.

It may be laid down as a general principle that the only satisfactory method of writing the lives of Persian Von Erdmann's critical study of Khwájú's life and works poets, with the possible exception of some of the older ones, who lived before the Mongol Invasion had destroyed the scientific spirit of historical criticism in Persia, is to collect and collate such particulars as can be derived from their own works as preserved in old and correct manuscript copies, since little confidence can be placed in some of the modern lithographed editions. This method has been followed in the case of many of the older poets, such as Firdawsí, Niẓámí, Anwarí, Kháqání, etc., and in this respect Khwájú is more fortunate than many of his contemporaries, for so long ago as 1848 Dr Franz von Erdmann published ^224b a short account of him, in which, after quoting and translating Dawlatsháh's article, he gives a brief description of a manuscript of his Khamsa, or five longer mathnawí poems, adding some useful particulars derived from them and from his Díwán. These particulars I shall here summarize, together with the additional details contributed by Rieu.^225a

According to his own statement, in his poem Naw-rúz u Gul (“New Year's Day and the Rose”), he was born on Shawwál 15, 679 (Feb. 7, 1281). He began his poetical career by attaching himself to the court of one of the Muẓaffarí princes, probably Mubárizu'd-Dín Muḥammad, the founder of that dynasty, at Yazd. Later he frequented the court of Shaykh Abú Isḥáq (reigned 742-754/1341-1353) at Shíráz, and, as may be gathered from the dedications of some of his qaṣîdas (panegyrics) given by von Erdmann, the courts of Shirwán-sháh and Qizil Arslán, Prince of 'Iráq, while the poem already cited shows that he also spent some time at Baghdád. In short he would seem to have wandered through the greater part of Persia, and cannot be regarded, like some of his contemporaries, as essentially the poet of one particular dynasty.

Khwájú's poems comprise the five romantic mathnawís which constitute the Khamsa, or “Quintet” (of which no Extant poems of Khwájú copy is accessible in Cambridge, though the British Museum possesses a fine copy ^225b made in 798/1396), and a Díwán containing qaṣídas (some religious, but mostly panegyrics), ghazals (odes), muqaṭṭa'át (fragments), rubá'iyyát (quatrains), etc. Of the Díwán I possess two manuscripts, one quite modern, and the other, bought at the sale of the Fiott-Hughes library about twenty years ago, copied by “Darwísh Ḥáfiẓ of Shíráz” (not, of course, the great Ḥáfiẓ, who died more than a century earlier) in 899/1493-4. A former owner of the last-mentioned manuscript has computed the number of verses which it contains at about four thousand.

The five poems which constitute the Khamsa are:

(1) Naw-rúz u Gul (“New Year's Day and the Rose”),

(2) Humáy u Humáyún, dedicated, apparently, either to Sulṭán Abú Sa'íd (716-736/1316-1335) or to his minister Ghiyáthu'd-Dín Muḥammad, and containing 3203 verses. This poem, as Rieu has shown, was composed at Baghdád in 732/1331-2.

(3) Kamál-náma (the “Book of Perfection”), composed in 744/1343-4, and dedicated to Shaykh Abú Isḥáq, Prince of Fárs, who had ascended the throne only two years previously.

(4) The Rawḍatu'l-Anwár (“Garden of Lights”), a mystical poem composed at the shrine of Shaykh Abú Isḥáq Ibráhím, the patron saint of Kázarún in Fárs, in 743/1342-3, a year before the poem last mentioned.

(5) Another mystical poem of the title of which I am uncertain. The whole Khamsa, or “Quintet,” is apparently an imitation of the celebrated Khamsa of Niẓámí of Ganja, and was concluded in 744/1343-4.

In spite of the comparative celebrity which Khwájú enjoys, I have not been able to discover any striking beauty or conspicuous merit in his odes (ghazals), of which I have read some seventy-five. The following may serve as a fairly favourable specimen:

“Pass us not by, for our thought is set on thy constancy,
Our heart on the hope of thy promise, and our soul on thy faith!
If it be thy pleasure to thwart our pleasure, that matters little;
Our object in this world and the next is thy pleasure.
Hereafter, since we have staked our head in following thee,
Drive us not from thy presence, for our heart follows after thee.
I put my neck under the yoke and bow my head in service:
Forgive me, if thou wilt, or slay me: it is for thee to judge.
He who is thy slave becomes freed from all:
He who is thy friend becomes a stranger to his own kin.
O thou who art dearer to my heart than the soul which is in the body,
That soul which is in my body exists but for thee!
This sad-hearted victim who aspires to thy love,
His rightest oath is by thy heart-entrancing stature.
Khwájú, who is passing away through thy cruelty and harshness,
His heart is still set on thy love and loyalty!”

Besides odes (ghazals) and the above-mentioned math-nawís , Khwájú has several tarkíb-bands, one or two “fragments” (muqaṭṭa'át), and a few quatrains, including one about the dove crying “Kú, kú?” (“Where, where” are the great ones of yore departed?), generally ascribed to 'Umar Khayyám.

The following mustazád is not without grace:

“Is there none to say from me to that Turk of Cathay (Khaṭá)
‘If any fault (khaṭá) ^228a has been committed
Come back, for we hope from thee for ourselves
Fidelity to promises.

Do not cast pepper in the name of me, the heart-consumed,
On the fire of thy cheek, ^229a
For because of that musky grain of thine I have fallen, O friend,
Into the snare of misfortune.
Today I am, like the curve of thine eyebrow, in the city
Like unto the crescent moon, ^229b
Since I have seen that face of signal beauty
The cynosure of every eye.
Come back, that I may lay down my head at thy feet, and my life
At the feet of thy horse,
Since the hand of poor indigent me cannot provide
Anything more than ‘hoof-money.’ ^229c
Is it a rule in your city not to enquire
Into the condition of poor strangers?
After all, what hurt could befall the realm of thy beauty
From one so helpless [as me]?
How long, O sweet-voiced minstrel, wilt thou play out of tune
The ‘Lover's Air’?
Soothe me, the poor and portionless, for once
By a song of substance!
After all, how much longer can I keep hidden
In my heart the grief of separation?
O Beloved, I am sure that this grief will spread
One day somewhither.
Through regret for thy ruby lip I am in the Darkness of Alexander ^229d
Like Khwájú,
But what can I do, since the Kingdom of Darius.
Is not meet for a beggar?”

These few specimens of Khwájú's poems will perhaps suffice to show that his verse, while graceful and pleasing, lacks any conspicuous distinction or excellence.

'Ubayd-i-Zákání is, perhaps, the most remarkable parodist and satirical writer produced by Persia, and 'Ubayd-i-Zákání though, like most Persian, Arabian and Turkish satirists, his language is frequently so coarse as to render a large part of his writings unfit for translation, his Akhláqu'l-Ashráf, or “Ethics of the Aristocracy,” is, where not so marred, a fine piece of irony, while some of his serious poems (which have been too much ignored by most of his biographers) are of singular beauty. Of his life, as usual, little is known, save that he was originally from Qazwín (for which city he seems to have had little affection, since he is constantly gibing at the stupidity of its inhabitants), lived at Shíráz (to which, on the other hand, as several of his poems show, he was much attached) during the reign of Shaykh Abú Isḥáq Injú (who was killed in 747/1346-7), abandoned serious writing for a ribaldry more in accord with the taste of the great men of that time, but none the less (as several of his poems and a wellknown anecdote about his death indicate) suffered much from penury and debt, and finally died about 772/1371. Another well-known anecdote describes his quarrel and reconciliation with his contemporary Salmán of Sáwa, ^230a and he appears to have enjoyed the patronage of Sulṭán Uways at Baghdád or Tabríz, or both. Dawlatsháh ^230b consecrates a long but not very informative article to him, most of which (with fuller quotations from his poems) is reproduced in the Haft Iqlím. The notice in the Átash-kada is very meagre, and no mention of him is made in the Mujmal of Faṣíḥí or in the modern Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá. His satirical mathnawí of “the Mouse and the Cat” (Músh u Gurba) has been lithographed, with quaint woodcuts, at Bombay, without date; ^231a and a selection of his Facetiœ, to which is prefixed a Persian preface, probably by the late Mírzá Ḥabíb of Iṣfahán, followed by another of M. Ferté, was printed at Constantinople, at the Press of Ebu'ẓ-Ẓiyá Tevfíq Bey, in 1303/1885-6. ^231b As these two prefaces contain most that is to be said about 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, I here append a translation, omitting only a few unsuitable passages.

“That most witty poet 'Ubayd-i-Zákání was of the village of Zákán ^231c near Qazwín, and was one of the notabilities of the eighth century of the Flight. ^231d He was a man of talent and learning, one of the masters of style and sound taste. Although some reckon him as one of the ribald writers, it is only fair to state that, though jests, ribaldry and satire occur in his poems, he deserves to rank as something more than a mere satirist, being, indeed, conspicuous amongst the older poets for his grace and wit, and in these respects approached by few. He was particularly skilful in incorporating in his poems and investing with a ludicrous sense the serious verses of other poets, an achievement in which he left no ground unturned. His own serious poems, on the other hand, are incomparable in fluency of diction, sweetness and distinction, and are unrivalled in grace and subtlety.

“'Ubayd-i-Zákání pursued his studies at Shíráz in the reign of Sháh Abú Isḥáq, and became one of the most accomplished men of letters and learning of his time, acquiring complete proficiency in every art, and compiling books and treatises thereon. He subsequently returned to Qazwín, where he had the honour of being appointed to a Judgeship, and was chosen as the tutor and teacher of sundry young noblemen. At that time the Turks in Persia had left no prohibited or vicious act undone, and the character of the Persian people, by reason of association and intercourse with them, had become so changed and corrupted that 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, disgusted at the contemplation thereof, sought by every means to make known and bring home to them the true condition of affairs. Therefore, as an example of the corrupt morals of the age and its people, he composed the treatise known as the ‘Ethics of the Aristocracy’ (Akhláqu'l-Ashráf), which was not intended as mere ribaldry, but as a satire containing serious reflections and wise warnings. So likewise, in order to depict the level of intelligence and degree of knowledge of the leading men of Qazwín, each one of whom was a mass of stupidity and ignorance, he included in his ‘Joyous Treatise’ (Risála-i-Dilgushá) many anecdotes of which each contains a lesson for persons of discernment. As a measure of his accomplishments, experience, learning and worldly wisdom, his ‘Tract of a Hundred Counsels’ (Risála-i-Sad Pand) and his ‘Definitions’ (Ta'rífát) are a sufficient proof. Moreover, even those who speak of him as a mere ribald satirist admit that he composed a treatise on Rhetoric ('Ilm-i-Ma'ání u Bayán) which he desired to present to the King. The courtiers and favourites, however, told him that the King had no need of such rubbish. Then he composed a fine panegyric, which he desired to recite, but they informed him that His Majesty did not like to be mocked with the lies, exaggerations and fulsome flattery of poets. Thereupon 'Ubayd-i-Zákání said, ‘In that case I too will pursue the path of impudence, so that by this means I may obtain access to the King's most intimate society, and may become one of his courtiers and favourites,’ which he accordingly did. Then he began recklessly to utter the most shameless sayings and the most unseemly and extravagant jests, whereby he obtained innumerable gifts and presents, while none dared to oppose or contend with him.

“It is said that after 'Ubayd-i-Zákání had despaired of entering the King's assembly, he extemporized the following quatrain:

^232a

‘In arts and learning be not skilled like me,
Or by the great like me despised thou'llt be.
Wouldst earn applause from this base age of thine?
Beg shamelessly, play lute and libertine!’

“One of his acquaintances, hearing this, expressed astonishment that one so talented and accomplished could abandon learning and culture in favour of ribaldry and lewd utterances. To him 'Ubayd-i-Zákání sent the following verse:

‘Keep clear of learning, Sir, if so you may,
Lest you should lose your pittance for the day.
Play the buffoon and learn the fiddler's skill:
On great and small you then may work your will!’.^233a

“It is said that Salmán-i-Sáwají, a contemporary poet, wrote these verses satirizing 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, whom he had never seen:

‘'Ubayd-i-Zákání, the rhymester, whose damnable satirist pen
Hath made him accursed before God, and obnoxious to men;
He's an ignorant oaf from the country, and not a Qazwíní at all,
Though him, and that not without reason, “Qazwíní” they call.’^233b

“The point of this verse is that Persian wits affect to regard the people of Qazwín as fools, just as they dub the Khurásánís ‘asses,’ the people of Ṭús ‘cows,’ those of Bukhárá ‘bears,’ and those of Trans-oxiana ‘Mashhadís,’ that is, heretics (Ráfiḍís), all of which attributions are of the nature of disparagement.

“As soon as 'Ubayd-i-Zákání heard this verse, he at once set out for Baghdád. On his arrival there, he found Salmán, surrounded with great pomp and circumstance, on the banks of the Tigris, occupied with pleasure and diversion and the society of learned and accomplished men. When by some means he succeeded in entering the circle, Salmán had just composed this hemistich descriptive of the Tigris:

‘With drunken frenzy and fury fierce this year the Tigris flows’—

which he asked the bystanders to complete. Thereupon 'Ubayd-i-Zákání extemporized the following complementary hemistich:

‘With its foaming lips and its feet in chains, 'twere
mad, you might suppose.’

“Salmán was delighted, and enquired whence he came. He replied, ‘From Qazwín.’ In the course of the ensuing conversation Salmán asked him whether his name was known or any of his verse familiar in Qazwín, or not. 'Ubayd-i-Zákání replied, ‘The following fragment of his poetry is very well known:

“A frequenter of taverns am I, and a lover of wine,
Besotted with drink and desire at the Magians' shrine.
Like a wine-jar from shoulder to shoulder amongst them I pass,
And go from one hand to another like goblet or glass.”’

“‘Now although Salmán is an accomplished man,’ added 'Ubayd, ‘and these verses may perhaps be truly ascribed to him, yet in my opinion they were most probably composed by his wife.’^234a

“Salmán perceived from this witty speech that this was none other than 'Ubayd himself, whereupon he made much of him, apologized for his satire, and so long as 'Ubayd remained in Baghdád, fell short in no service which he could render him. And 'Ubayd used often to say to him, ‘O Salmán, fortune favoured you in that you so speedily made your peace with me, and so escaped from the malice of my tongue!’”

Then follows as a postscript the short Introduction ascribed to M. Ferté, who describes therein his devotion to Oriental and especially Persian literature, his desire to contribute something to a fuller knowledge of it, and his appreciation of the works of 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, a manuscript of which happened to come under his notice. From this manuscript he made the selections (amounting to about three-quarters of the whole contents) contained in this volume. These include:

(1) The Akhláqu'l-Ashráf, or “Ethics of the Aristocracy” (prose), composed in 740/1340.

(2) The “Book of the Beard” (Rísh-náma), in mixed prose and verse, undated.

(3) The “Book of a hundred Counsels” (Risála-i-Ṣad pand), composed in 750/1350 (prose).

(4) The “Definitions” (Ta'rífát), or “Ten Sections” (Dah Faṣl), undated (prose).

(5) Poems of different kinds, mostly obscene, including parodies.

(6) The “Joyous Treatise” (Risála-i-Dilgushá), divided into two parts, the one containing Arabic, the other Persian anecdotes and facetiœ.

On the other hand, there are omitted from these selections all 'Ubayd's serious poems and panegyrics, as well as the “Book of Lovers” ('Ushsháq-náma), “Book of Omens” (Fálnáma ), etc. Of the three MSS. of this poet's works which I have examined in the British Museum (Or. 2947, Or. 5738, and Or. 6303) the last contains the largest selection of poetry, including panegyrics on Shaykh Abú Isḥáq, Sulṭán Uways, Ruknu'd-Dín 'Amídu'l-Mulk, etc. Among these one of the prettiest is the following:

“Once again a passion has entered my head; again my heart inclines
in a certain direction.
He is of Royal birth, I am of the dust; he is a King, and I am
portionless.
One tall of stature, with locks like lassoes, an autocrat descended
from Sulṭán Ḥusayn:
One with eyebrows like bows and slender waist, one unkind, fair and
deceitful.
Such a charmer of hearts, such a graceful cypress-tree, such a shower
of oats and seller of barley! ^236a
Without him the sun gives no light; without him the world has no
lustre.
Wherever his ruby-lip smiles, there sugar is of no account.
Everywhere the heart holds with his vision pleasant speech and
sweet discourse
Thou wouldst say that I come to the house of a physician, that perhaps
I may procure a remedy for my heart.
Everyone else complains of a foe, but our complaint is of a friend.
Should the eyes of 'Ubayd not look their fill upon him, then his eyes
do not regard any other misfortune!”

Another fine manuscript of the works of 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, bearing the class-mark Suppl. persan 824, is in the possession of the Bibliothèque Nationale at Paris. It was transcribed in Muḥarram, 834 (Sept.—Oct., 1430), comprises 111 leaves, and contains besides the poems, serious and flippant, the “Book of Lovers” ('Ushsháq-náma), in verse and partly in dialect; the “Ethics of the Aristocracy” (Akhláqu'l-Ashráf), the “Book of the Beard” (Rish-náma), and the “Ten Chapters” (Dah Faṣl). The most striking feature of the serious poems is the constant references to Fárs and its capital Shíráz, which evidently held the affection of the poet far more than his native city Qazwín. Thus, to quote a few examples, he says (f. 13^b):

“By the auspicious justice of that King who is so gracious to his servants the region of Shíráz has become an earthly Paradise.”

So again he says (f. 23^a):

“By the favour of the Creator the Kingdom of Párs hath become pleasanter than the Courts of Paradise and gayer than the Spring.”

And again (f. 28^a) he says:

“The victorious standard of the King who is so gracious to his servants hath reached with glee and happiness the region of Shíráz:

Shaykh Abú Isḥáq, that world-conqueror of youthful fortune, our liege-lord who slayeth opponents and maketh the fortune of his loyal supporters.”

The following verse, again (f. 35^b), is strongly reminiscent of, and was probably inspired by, a very well-known verse of Sa'dí's occurring in a poem quoted in vol. ii of my Literary History of Persia, p. 535, lines 13-15:

“The gentle breeze of Muṣallá and the stream of Ruknábád cause the stranger to forget his own native land.”

The following verse occurring in a poem in which 'Ubayd bids farewell to Shíráz affords further testimony of his attachment to that place:

“I leave the region of Shíráz, being in peril of my life:
Alas, how full of anguish is my heart at this inevitable departure!”

As in the case of Ḥáfiẓ so also in 'Ubayd's Díwán we find one disparaging allusion to Hurmuz (Ormuz) in the Persian Gulf which would seem to show that our poet had once visited that place:

“I am thus cast away in Hurmuz in grief and sorrow, isolated from the companionship of friends and patrons.”

Amongst the serious poems is one (f. 30^b) in praise of the Ṣáḥib-Díwán 'Amídu'l-Mulk, while amongst the satires are two (ff. 54^b and 55^a) directed against Kamálu'd-Dín Ḥusayn and Shihábu'd-Dín Ḥaydar. ^238a One of the religious poems at the beginning of the volume (f. 1^b), containing the praise of God, the Prophet, and the Four Orthodox Caliphs, indicates that 'Ubayd was a Sunní, but, apart from his disreputable facetiœ, the following verse shows clearly enough that he neither claimed nor desired to lead a virtuous life:

“God, of Thy grace one special hope I nourish,
That Thou wilt cause my pleasure-realm to flourish,
And turn from me the Doom of Abstinence,
And save me from the Plague of Penitence!”

As regards 'Ubayd's facetiœ (hazaliyyát), which are practically the only poems contained in the Constantinople edition of his works, they are, as already stated, almost without exception unfit for translation, and are regarded with disapproval or disgust by all respectable Persians at the present day. Their only point, moreover, lies in the skilful turning to base uses of the serious verses of earlier or contemporary poets, who are thus held up to ridicule and made to afford material for ribaldry by the unscrupulous 'Ubayd-i-Zákání. Amongst the lighter poems which are unobjectionable, however, the following may be cited:

“Something at least from my small property
Was wont to reach me in the days gone by,
And when friends came to cheer my loneliness
A crust of bread they found, a dish of cress,
And sometimes wine withal, when some new flame
Or some old crony me to visit came.
But now, alas! all that I reckoned on,
Solid or liquid, from my table's gone,
And only I am left, nor would remain
If my removal were another's gain!”

That poverty and debt were our poet's usual lot appears from other verses, such as the following:^239a

“Others rejoice in merriment, while I am afflicted with debt;
Everyone has his affairs and business, while I am in the misfortune
of debt.
My duty towards God and my debts to His creatures bow my neck;
Shall I discharge my duty towards God, or my debts?
My expenses are more than usual, and my debts beyond bounds:
Shall I take thought for my expenses or for my debts?
I complain of no documents save summonses for debt,
And I fear no one save the witnesses to my indebtedness.
I have debts in the town and debts in the suburb,
Debts in the street and debts in the store.
From morning until evening I continue in anxiety
As to where I may incontinently beg a loan.
Other people flee from the hands of debt, while I,

After prayer and supplication, pray for a loan from God. ^241a
My honour, like that of beggars, is cast to the winds,
So often have I sought a loan from the door of every beggar.
If the Master does not bespeak for me the King's favour
How can poor 'Ubayd finally discharge his debts?—
Master 'Alá'u'd-Dunyá wa'd-Dín, except whose hand
None other in the world hath given Debt its deserts!”

Other poems to the same purport will be found on pp. 58 (ll. 18-23) and 61 (ll. 16-20) of the Constantinople edition, and whether or no the well-known story ^241b about 'Ubayd-i-Zákání's death-bed practical joke on his children be true, it certainly accords alike with his character and his circumstances.

The following epigram on a physician is worth quoting:

“To this fool-doctor no man need apply
For treatment if he does not wish to die.
At last to him the Death-Angel appears
Saying, ‘Buy now the goods you've sold for years’!”

“The Mouse and the Cat” (Músh u Gurba) is a short mathnawí poem of 174 verses, and in the Bombay lithographed edition, with the numerous quaint woodcuts which illustrate it, comprises only 18 pages. It opens with a description of the voracious, keen-eyed, “lion-hunting” cat, with eyes like amber and sharp claws, feet like a scorpion, a forehead like an eagle, a belly like a drum, a breast of ermine, eyebrows like bows, and sharp teeth:

This cat, being in need of a meal, goes to a wine-tavern and conceals itself behind a wine-jar. Presently a mouse appears, leaps on to the edge of one of the jars, and begins to drink the wine, until, filled with the arrogance engendered by alcohol, and ignorant of the proximity of its formidable foe, it begins to boast its prowess, saying: “Where is the cat, that I may wring its neck and bear its head to the market-place? In the day of my munificence at the time of conferring benefits I would distribute the heads of a hundred cats! Cats are but as dogs in my sight, were I to meet them in the open field!”

Suddenly the cat leaps out upon it, seizes it, and cries, “O miserable mouse, how wilt thou save thy life?”

The mouse, effectively sobered now, adopts a tone of piteous entreaty, saying, “I am thy slave: pardon me these sins! If I ate dirt (i.e. talked nonsense) I was drunk, and drunkards eat much dirt! I am your slave, your devoted slave…”:

The cat, however, pays no heed to the mouse's supplications, kills and eats it, and then goes to the mosque to pray and repent of its mouse-eating:

Another mouse which was hiding in the pulpit of the mosque hears these edifying utterances and hastens to bear the good news of the cat's repentance to the other mice, saying, in a verse which has become proverbial and is alluded to by Ḥáfiẓ: ^243a

“Good tidings, for the cat has become devout, an ascetic, a true believer, a Musulmán!”

The mice thereupon decide to express their satisfaction by sending to the cat a deputation of seven mice bearing suitable presents of wine, roasted meats, sweets, nuts, fruits and sherbets. The cat invites them to approach, and then seizes five of them, one in its mouth and one in each of its four paws, while the two survivors escape and carry the sad news of the cat's unchanged nature to the other mice. After a week's mourning for their lost comrades, the mice, 330,000 in number, under the command of their king, march out to do battle with the cats. After a fierce struggle, the cats are defeated, and the chief offender, taken captive, is brought before the king of the mice, who condemns it to die on the gibbet, but at the end the cat breaks away from its captors, kills the king of the mice, and scatters or slays his followers. The poem ends:

“This strange and wonderful story is a memento of 'Ubayd-i-Zákání.”

Passing now to 'Ubayd-i-Zákání's prose works, we shall 'Ubayd-iZákání's “Ethics of the Aristocracy” first consider his “Ethics of the Aristocracy” (Akhláqu'l-Ashráf), which is a very bitter satire on the morals of his time, composed in 740/1340, and comprising a Preface and seven chapters, each of which deals with one of the virtues in the following order: (1) Wisdom; (2) Courage; (3) Chastity; (4) Justice; (5) Generosity; (6) Clemency and Fidelity; (7) Modesty, Mercy, etc. In each chapter the author treats first of the old or “abrogated” conception of the virtue in question (madh-hab-i-mansúkh), and then of the new or “adopted” view (madh-hab-i-mukhtár) of the moderns, whom he ironically extols for their discovery, that, for instance, Courage is not really a virtue, as the ancients taught, but a very dangerous and harmful quality. Concerning the purpose of his book he thus speaks in the Preface:

“Just as the physicians have expended their energies on removing the ailments of the body and maintaining its health, so likewise the prophets have concentrated their attention on removing the maladies and misfortunes of the spirit, so that they may bring it out of the perilous gulfs and whirlpools of ignorance and imperfection to the shores of salvation and perfection. When the wise man regards with attentive gaze, it will become plain to him that the object of the mission of those on whom has devolved the Prophet's trust is the refining of the qualities and purification of the attributes of God's servants, a truth thus enunciated in the words of the poet:

‘Whether or no a Prophet comes, be thou virtuous in conduct,
For he whose conduct is virtuous will not go to Hell.’

“His Holiness the Prophet himself has removed the veil from the virgin face of this idea, and has revealed the beauty implicit therein on the bridal throne of this assurance—‘I have been sent to complete virtuous qualities,’ while learned men of former times have committed to writing, in lengthy treatises, most of which the defective intelligence of this humble writer fails to comprehend, the laws of this science, known as ‘Ethics’ or ‘Practical Philosophy,’ whereby, in the best and safest way, human nature may be perfected. From the auspicious time of the pure Adam until these days the noblest of mankind, with much trouble and extreme endeavour, have made the most strenuous efforts to acquire the four cardinal virtues of Wisdom, Courage, Chastity and Justice, which they account the chief means to happiness in this world and salvation in the world to come, and concerning which they say:

‘Of whatever creed thou art, be a well-doer and a giver,
For Infidelity combined with good character is better than Islám
combined with immorality.’

“But now in this age, which is the cream of all the ages and the crown of all times, the nature of the leaders of mankind has been sublimated, and great and powerful thinkers have appeared who have concentrated their luminous thoughts and salutary meditations on all matters appertaining to this life and the next, and in their clear vision the ancient laws and practices appeared contemptible and unsubstantial. Moreover, by the lapse of ages and passage of time, most of these rules had become obsolete, and the observance of these ethical principles and practices proved burdensome to the powerful minds and luminous intellects of these people. Therefore they manfully trampled under foot these principles and practices; adopted instead, for their guidance in this life and the next, the method now current amongst the great and noble (to the elucidation of some portion of which this epitome is devoted); and based on it their conduct of the affairs of this world and the next. The portals of thought being thus opened and the chain of speech extended, let us enter upon the matter in hand.

“It is now some time since this humble writer 'Ubayd-i-Zákání conceived the ambition of writing a compendious treatise dealing with certain ethical conceptions of the ancients, which the people of our time regard as ‘obsolete,’ and some portion of the principles and practices of the leaders of thought in this age, which they regard as ‘adopted,’ in order that this treatise might benefit students of this science and neophytes in this path. Now at last, in this year 740 of the Flight (A.D. 1339-1340) he hath hastily penned this epitome, entitled ‘Ethics of the Aristocracy,’ dividing it into seven chapters, each of which contains two views, first the ‘obsolete’ view, in accordance with which our forefathers regulated their lives; and second the ‘adopted’ view, now discovered by our great thinkers, whereby they regulate their affairs here and hereafter. And although this treatise borders on ribaldry, yet—

‘He who is familiar with the city will know whence our goods are obtained.’

“The humble author's hope in striving to complete this brief treatise is that—

‘Perchance somewhere and somewhen some man of heart
May utter a prayer on behalf of this poor fellow.’”

After these preliminary remarks, the author proceeds to discuss in turn each of the seven virtues already enumerated, beginning in each case with the “obsolete view” (which is exactly modelled on what is set forth at greater length in such well-known treatises on Ethics as the earlier Akhláq-i-Náṣirí or the later Akhláq-i-Jalálí or Akhláq-i-Muḥsiní ), and then passing on to the “adopted” view of his contemporaries. As a specimen we may take the first chapter, which is less ribald than most.

“Philosophers in defining Wisdom say that this consists in ‘seeking to perfect the human soul in its intellectual and practical aptitudes;

‘Wherever Certainty entered, Doubt departed.’

“Now as for the Practical Faculty, it is that which coordinates and arranges the powers and actions of the soul, so that they cooperate and agree with one another, by virtue of which equipoise and accord its qualities become pleasing in God's sight. And when such knowledge and practice are combined in this degree in any person, he may fitly be entitled the ‘Perfect Man’ and ‘Vicar ^247b of God,’ and his rank becomes the highest attainable by the human race, even as God Most High hath said: ‘He giveth Wisdom to whom He will, and whosoever is given Wisdom hath been given abundant good.’ ^247c Moreover his spirit, after its separation from the body, becomes fitted to dwell in Paradise, to enjoy everlasting happiness, and to become receptive of God's grace…

“Thus far is the view of the ancient philosophers.”

The writer now passes immediately to the

“When the great and wise men of subtle understanding, with whose honoured persons the face of the earth is now adorned, reflected on the perfecting of the human soul and its future destiny, and examined the practices and opinions of the famous men of former times, they soon formulated a complete and categorical denial of all these beliefs. They say: ‘It has been revealed to us that the “Rational Soul” is a thing of no consideration; that its continuance absolutely depends on the continuance of the body, and that its destruction is involved in the destruction of the body.’ They further say: ‘What is asserted by the Prophets as to its having perfections and defects, and as to its subsisting and continuing in itself after its separation from the body is impossible, as is also the Resurrection. Life consists in the just equipoise of the elements comprising the body, and when this is decomposed its owner becomes for ever extinct and null. What is intended by the joys of Paradise and the torments of Hell must be in this world, as the poet says:

‘He to whom they give receives his gift even here,
And he who has nothing [here] is put off with promises for “to-
morrow.”’^248a

“Consequently our leaders of thought are entirely unconcerned with such matters as the Resurrection, Future Punishment, Nearness to or Remoteness from God, the Divine Approval or Wrath, Perfection and Imperfection, and the like; and the result of this conviction is that they spend every day of their life in satisfying their lusts and pursuing their pleasures, saying:

‘O Final Outcome of the Seven and Four, ^248b
Who by the Four and Seven art vexéd sore,
Drink wine! A thousand times I've told thee this—
When once thou'rt gone, thou shalt return no more!’

“While they commonly inscribe this quatrain on their fathers' tombstones:

‘No mansions lie beyond this earth and sea;
No reason dwells outside of me and thee:
That Nothing which is deemed by some men All,
O pass it by; 'tis but vain phantasy!’

“And it is for this reason that in their eyes attacks on men's lives, property and honour seem insignificant and of small account.

‘To such one draught of wine in hue like fire
Outweighs the blood of brethren or of sire.’

“In truth our applause is the just meed of these our great and favoured guides to whom matters which, notwithstanding the cultivation of the reasoning powers, remained hidden for several thousand years have been made plain without trouble.”

So in like manner 'Ubayd-i-Zákání deals with the other virtues. Thus in speaking of the “adopted” or current view about Courage, which is the subject of the second chapter, he says:

“Our teachers say that when one confronts a dangerous enterprise, or engages in combat and conflict with another, one of two things will 'Ubayd-iZákání on Courage happen: either his adversary will prevail and slay him, or the contrary. If he slays his adversary, he will have on his neck the burden of innocent blood, and as a consequence thereof will undoubtedly sooner or later be overtaken by punishment. If, on the other hand, his adversary prevails, that person will assuredly go the road to Hell. How, then, can a wise man undertake an action presenting such alternatives? What proof, indeed, is clearer than this, that whenever there is a wedding, or a dance, or any social function where delicate meats, sweets, robes of honour and money are in evidence, rakes, effeminate persons, minstrels and jesters are invited there, while when arrows and spears are the entertainment provided, some stupid fool is persuaded that he is a man, a hero, a defeater of armies, a captain courageous, and is thus induced to confront the swords, so that when the poor wretch is slain in battle the rakes and effeminates of the town wag their tails, saying:

‘Scant attraction have arrow and axe and spear for me;
Minstrels, wine and delicate meats far better agree!’”

The third chapter, dealing with Chastity, hardly lends itself to translation, but the “adopted view” concerning Justice in the fourth chapter is worth quoting.

“The view of our teachers is that this quality is the worst of all attributes, and that Justice involves much loss; a thesis which they have proved by the clearest arguments. For they say: ‘The foundation of sovereignty, lordship and mastery is punishment, since men Ubayd-iZákání on Justice will not obey any one until they fear him; all will feel themselves equal; the foundations of administration will be undermined, and the order of public business disorganized. He who practices Justice (which God forbid!) refrains from beating, killing and fining any one, and does not intoxicate himself and quarrel or be angry with his subordinates, him none will fear. Then the people will not obey their kings, nor sons their sires, nor servants their masters, while the affairs of the lands and the people will lapse into chaos. Hence it is that they say:

‘Kings to gain a single object oft will slay a hundred souls.’

“And they further say: ‘Justice bequeaths disaster.’

What proof, indeed, can be more convincing than this, that so long as the Kings of Persia played the tyrant, like Ḍaḥḥák the Arabian and Yazdigird ‘the Sinner’ (who now confer distinction on the chief seats of Hell, together with other later potentates who followed them), their Empire increased and their realm flourished; but when the reign of Khusraw Anúsharwán came, who, by reason of his weak judgement and the policy of his feeble-minded ministers chose the attribute of Justice, in a little while the pinnacles of his Palace fell to the ground, the Fire Temples, which were their places of worship, were extinguished, and all trace of them disappeared from the face of the earth. ^250a The Commander of the Faithful and Confirmer of the Laws of Religion 'Umar ibnu'l-Khaṭṭáb (may God be well pleased with him), who was noted for his justice, made bricks and ate barley-bread, while his cloak, as they relate, weighed seventeen maunds. Mu'áwiya, by the blessing of Injustice, wrested the kingdom from the hands of the Imám 'Alí (may God ennoble his countenance). Nebuchadnezzar did not establish his authority, nor become eminent in both worlds, nor did his empire increase, until he slew twelve thousand innocent prophets in the Holy City and cast into bondage many thousand more. Chingíz Khán, who to-day, in despite of his enemies, stands supreme in the lower depths of Hell as the exemplar and guide of all the Mongols, ancient and modern, did not attain to the sovereignty of the whole world until with ruthless sword he had destroyed millions of innocent persons.

“It is recorded in the histories of the Mongols that when Baghdád was conquered by Húlágú Khán he ordered the remnant of the inhabitants who had escaped the sword to be brought before him. He then enquired into the circumstances of each class, and, when he was acquainted with them, he said: ‘Artisans are indispensable,’ and gave them permission to go about their business. To the merchants he commanded that some capital should be given, so that they might trade for him. From the Jews he was content to take a poll-tax, declaring them to be an oppressed people; while the effeminates he consigned to his gynœcia. He then set apart the judges, shaykhs, Ṣúfís, Ḥájjís, preachers, persons of note, beggars, religious mendicants, wrestlers, poets and story-tellers, saying, ‘These are superfluous creatures who waste God's blessings,’ and ordered all of them to be drowned in the Tigris, thus purifying the face of earth from their vile existence. As a natural consequence sovereignty continued in his family for nearly ninety years, during which time their Empire daily increased; until, when poor Abú Sa'íd conceived in his mind a sentimental passion for Justice, and branded himself with the stigma of this quality, his Empire shortly came to an end, and the House of Húlágú Khán and all his en-deavours were brought to naught through the aspirations of Abú Sa'íd…

“Blessings rest on those great and well-directed persons who guided mankind out of the dark delusion of Justice into the light of right guidance!”

The “Book of the Beard” (Rísh-náma) is a fantastic The “Book of the Beard” dialogue between 'Ubayd-i-Zákání and the beard considered as the destroyer of youthful beauty.

The “Hundred Counsels” (Sad Pand) was composed in 750/1350, and, as its name implies, comprises a hundred The “Hundred Counsels” aphorisms, some serious, such as: “O dear friends, make the most of life”; “Do not defer until to-morrow the pleasure of to-day”; “Profit by the present, for life will not return a second time”; and some ironical and ribald, such as: “So far as you are able, refrain from speaking the truth, so that you may not be a bore to other people, and that they may not be vexed with you without due cause”; “Do not believe the words of pious and learned men, lest you go astray and fall into Hell”; “Do not take lodgings in a street where there is a minaret, so that you may be safe from the annoyance of cacophonous mu'adhdhins”; “Despise not ribaldry, nor regard satirists with the eye of scorn.”

The “Definitions” (Ta'rífát), or “Ten Sections” (Dah

“The World. That place wherein no creature can enjoy peace.
The Wise Man. He who does not concern himself with the world
and its inhabitants.
The Perfect Man. He who is not affected by grief or gladness.
Thought. That which wearies men to no purpose.
The Man of Learning. He who has not sense enough to earn his
own livelihood.
The Ignorant Man. Fortune's favourite.

“Gog and Magog. The Turkish tribes when they set out for a
country.
The Infernal Guards. Their leaders.
Famine. The result of their advent.
The Constable. He who robs by night and demands payment from
the shop-keepers by day.

“The Judge. He whom all men curse.
The Advocate. He who renders the truth of no effect.
Bribery. That which does the business of the helpless.
The Lucky Man. He who never sees the Judge's countenance.
The Preacher. An ass.
The Prelector. An ass's tail.
The Poet. A greedy coxcomb.

“The Shaykh. Iblís (the Devil).
The Devils. His followers.
The Ṣúfí. He who eats what he has not earned.
The Ḥájji. He who swears falsely by the Ka'ba.

“Boasting and impudence. The Gentry's stock-in-trade.
Nothing. Their existence.
Hollow. Their politeness.
Vanity and folly. Their talk.
Fault-finding, greed, avarice and envy. Their characteristics.
The Fool. He who hopes any good of them.

“The Shopman. He who fears not God.
The Druggist. He who wants to make everyone ill.
The Doctor. An executioner.
The Liar. The astrologer.
The Athlete. An idle rogue.
The Broker. The chartered thief of the market-place.
One per cent. What does not reach the landlord from his crops.
Complaint. What is carried to the landlord.

“Wine. The source of disturbance.
Backgammon, beauties, candles and desert. Its instruments.
The Harp, Lute and Dulcimer. Its music.
Soup and roasted meat. Its food.
The Garden and Parterre. Its appropriate place.
The ‘Destroyer of Joys.’ Ramaḍán.
The ‘Night of Worth.’ The eve of the festival.

“Bang. That which fills the Ṣúfí with ecstasy.
The Bejewelled, or the Noble on both sides. He who indulges simul-
taneously in bang and wine.
The Disappointed. He who enjoys neither.

“The Bachelor. He who laughs at the world's beard.
The Unfortunate. The householder.
The Two-horned (Dhu'l-Qarnayn). He who has two wives.
The most unfortunate of the unfortunate. He who has more.
The Futile. The householder's life.

The Wasted. His time.
The Dissipated. His wealth.
The Distracted. His mind.
The Bitter. His life.
The Abode of Mourning. His house.
The Enemy in the House. His son.
The Ill-starred. He who is afflicted with a daughter.
The Adversary. His brother.
The Kinsman. His deadly foe.
Joy after sorrow. The triple divorce.

“The Lady. She who has many lovers.
The House-wife. She who has few.
The Virtuous. She who is satisfied with one lover.
The Maiden. A name denoting what does not exist.”

The “Joyous Treatise” (Risála-i-Dilgushá) is a col- 'Ubayd-iZákání's “Joyous Treatise” lection of short Arabic and Persian stories and facetiœ, mostly of a somewhat ribald character, preceded by a short Preface. A few specimens of both parts are here appended.

“Juḥá once went to al-Kinása (‘the Dust-heap’) to buy a donkey. A man met him and asked him where he was going. He replied, ‘To al-Kinása to buy a donkey.’ ‘Say, “Please God,”’ answered the other. ‘There is no “Please God” about it,’ responded Juḥá: ‘the donkey is in the market and the money is in my sleeve.’

“Now when he entered the market, some pickpockets fell upon him and stole his money. And as he returned, the man met him again, and enquired whence he came. He replied, ‘From the market, Please God. My money has been stolen, Please God. So I did not buy the donkey, Please God. And I am returning to my house disappointed and despoiled, Please God.’”

“A certain man met another riding on a sorry ass, and enquired of him, ‘Whither away?’ He replied, ‘To try to reach the Friday prayer.’ ‘Out on thee!’ exclaimed the other; ‘To-day is Tuesday!’ ‘I shall be lucky,’ answered the rider, ‘if my ass gets me to the mosque by Saturday!’”

“A man came to Iyás ibn Mu'áwiya and asked him: ‘If I should eat dates, would it harm me?’ He replied, ‘No.’ ‘What would happen,’ he continued, ‘if I were to eat fennel with bread?’ ‘Nothing would happen,’ he answered. ‘And if I then drank a little water?’ he asked. ‘What forbids?’ replied the other. Said the questioner, ‘Date-wine is compounded of these things: how then can it be unlawful?’ ‘If I threw some earth at you,’ said Iyás, ‘would it hurt?’ ‘No,’ said the man. ‘And if a little water was poured upon you, would any of your bones be broken?’ continued Iyás. ‘No,’ said the man. ‘But if,’ said Iyás, ‘out of the earth and the water I made a brick, and dried it in the sun, and then struck you on the head with it, how would it be?’ ‘It would kill me,’ answered the other. Said Iyás, ‘This case is like that.’”

“A certain Shí'ite entered a mosque and saw the names of the [four] Companions ^255a written up on the wall. He wished to spit on the names of Abú Bakr and 'Umar, but his spittle fell on the name of 'Alí. He was greatly annoyed at this, and exclaimed, ‘This is only what you deserve for keeping such company!’”

“A certain man claimed to be God. He was brought before the Caliph, who said to him, ‘Last year someone here claimed to be a prophet, and he was put to death.’ ‘It was well done,’ replied the man, ‘for I did not send him.’”

“Juḥá in his childhood was apprenticed for some days to a tailor. One day his master brought a jar of honey to the shop. Desiring to go out on some business, he said to Juḥá, ‘There is poison in this jar: beware lest you partake of it, or you will perish!’ Said Juḥá, ‘What have I to do with it?’ When his master had gone, Juḥá gave a piece of cloth to a money-changer and bought a piece of baker's bread, which he ate with all the honey. When his master returned, he demanded the piece of cloth. ‘Don't beat me,’ said Juḥá, ‘so that I may tell you the truth. A thief stole the piece of cloth while I was not paying attention. I was afraid that when you came back you would beat me, so I said to myself that I would take poison, so that when you returned I should be dead. So I ate all the poison which was in the jar, but I am still alive. The rest you know.’”

“A Qazwíní armed with an enormous shield went out to fight the Heretics. ^255b A stone fired from their stronghold struck him and broke his head. He was much annoyed and exclaimed, ‘O fellow, are you blind that you cannot see so large a shield and must needs hit me on the head?’”

“The son of a certain Qazwíní fell into a well. ‘O my dear boy,’ he exclaimed, ‘don't move from where you are until I go and fetch a rope and pull you out!’”

“A certain mu'adhdhin was running along shouting the call to prayer. They asked him why he was running. He replied, ‘They tell me that my voice sounds best from a distance, so I am running away from it to see if this is true.’”

“Sulṭán Maḥmúd saw a feeble old man carrying on his back a load of firewood. Being moved to pity, he said, ‘Old man, would you prefer that I should give you two or three gold dínárs, or a donkey, or two or three sheep, or a garden, so that you may be delivered from this misery?’ ‘Give me money,’ said the old man, ‘so that I may put it in my girdle, and ride on the donkey, and drive the sheep before me, and go to the garden, and rest there, through your favour, for the rest of my life.’ The Sulṭán was pleased at his reply, and gave orders that this should be done.”

“A man said to his friend, ‘My eye hurts me. What should I do?’ ‘Last year,’ replied his friend, ‘one of my teeth hurt me and I pulled it out.’”

“A bald man coming out from the bath found that his hat had been stolen, and had a violent altercation with the bathman, who declared that he had no hat on when he came. ‘O Musulmáns!’ exclaimed the man, ‘is mine the kind of head which goes about hatless?’”

“A certain Qazwíní was asked if he knew about 'Alí, the Commander of the Faithful. ‘Of course I know about him,’ he replied. ‘Which of the Caliphs was he in order?’ they asked. ‘I know nothing about Caliphs,’ he answered, ‘but it was he whom Ḥusayn caused to die a martyr's death on the Plain of Karbalá!’”^256a

“A certain gipsy reproached his son, saying, ‘You do nothing, and spend your life in idleness. How often must I tell you that you should learn to turn somersaults, make dogs jump through hoops, or walk on the tight-rope, so that you may derive some profit from life. If you won't listen to me, by Heaven, I will send you to college to learn their moth-eaten science and to become a learned man, so that all your life you may continue in abasement, poverty and evil fortune, and be unable to earn a single barleycorn anywhere.’”

“A certain Qazwíní was returning from Baghdád in the summer. They asked him what he was doing there. He replied, ‘Sweating.’”

With the “Joyous Treatise,” from which the few anecdotes given above are taken, the printed edition of 'Ubayd-i-Zákání's works ends, except for two letters— models of unintelligible vulgarity and full of solecisms— ascribed to Shaykh Shihábu'd-Dín Qalandar and Mawláná Jalálu'd-Dín b. Ḥusám of Herát, but no doubt written by 'Ubayd himself in order to hold them up to ridicule.

I have devoted to 'Ubayd-i-Zákání more space than he may be deemed by many students of Persian literature Reasons for devoting so much space to 'Ubayd-iZákání to deserve, but, in spite of his coarseness and cynicism, his strong originality and boldness of speech appear to me to entitle him to more consideration than he has hitherto received. His “Ethics of the Aristocracy” is valuable for the light it throws on the corrupt morals of his age, and it is at least conceivable that, as 'Ubayd's biographer suggests, it was really written with serious purpose to awaken his countrymen to the lamentable deterioration in public and private life which had taken place in Persia during the Mongol ascendancy. In style and subject-matter 'Ubayd-i-Zákání stands almost alone amongst the older poets, though he bears some resemblance to his predecessor Súzaní, and to his successors Abú Isḥáq (Busḥaq) of Shíráz, the parodist and poet of the kitchen, and Maḥ-múd Qárí of Yazd, the poet of clothes. Amongst the moderns, the learned Mírzá Ḥabíb of Isfahán, the editor of his books, who died in Constantinople towards the end of the nineteenth century, rivals and even surpasses him in hazaliyyát or ribald poems.

Such fame as this poet enjoys arises chiefly from the 'Imád of Kirmán fact that he was a rival of the great Ḥáfiẓ, and is supposed to be aimed at in a rather spiteful poem ^258a by the latter, especially in the verse:

“O gracefully-walking partridge, whither goest thou? Stop!
Be not deceived because the zealot's cat says its prayers!”

The story is ^258b that 'Imád stood high in the favour of Sháh Shujá' the Muẓaffarí, with whom, on the other hand, Ḥáfiẓ was by no means a persona grata. 'Imád, who, as his title Faqíh indicates, was a theologian, had a tame cat which he had taught to go through the appropriate postures and genuflections when he prayed, and this art of mimicry was regarded by the Prince as miraculous, but by Ḥáfiẓ as a piece of hypocritical cunning.

Notices of 'Imád are given by Dawlatsháh ^258c and Jámí (in the Baháristán, chapter vii), and in the Átash-kada, ^258d the Haft Iqlím and the Ḥabíbu's-Siyar (as mentioned above), and most other biographies of poets, but these contain very little indeed about his life. He is said to have been highly respected at Kirmán, and to have had a college or retreat there. “He was wont,” says Jámí, “to recite his verses to all who visited the rest-house (khánqáh), requesting them to criticize and amend them, whence it is that they say that his poetry is really the poetry of all the people of Kirmán.” Dawlatsháh quotes the opinion of Ádharí, author of the “Gems of Mysteries” (Jawáhiru'l-Asrár), who says:

“Critical scholars hold that some redundancy (‘stuffing’—ḥashw) is to be observed at times in the poetry of all the ancients and moderns except in that of Khwája 'Imád-i-Faqíh, in which, as they agree, there is absolutely no such lapse, either in words or ideas.”

'Imád's extant work comprises a Díwán of lyric poetry, of which copies are not common, ^259a and at least five mathnawí poems, of which the earliest, entitled Maḥabbat-náma-i-Ṣáḥib-dilán , was composed in 722/1322, and the latest, the Múnisu'l-Abrár, in 766/1364. According to Dawlat-sháh, he died in 773/1371-2, evidently at a fairly advanced age. The following is a translation of the first of the two odes of 'Imád quoted by this biographer:^259b

“The poor patient in the hospital of Religion who details his
symptoms to the physicians who sit by the road,
What cares he for the road, the pain, the trouble and the sickness
Who has Khiḍr for his friend and Christ for his companion?
On the first day of Eternity Past I inscribed on the Tablet of my Soul
Of the words of my father (may his tomb be fragrant!) these:
‘O child, if thou meetest with one who is fallen,
Do not mock him, nor look on him with the eyes of scorn!’
For this reason did the great religious leaders ride on lions,
Because they trod the earth more gently than ants.
If no heart in the world is cheered by thee,
At least do not so act that any spirit may be saddened by thee.
O 'Imád, one cannot seek for any friend but God:
Help, O Helper! ‘From Thee do we seek assistance’!”^259c

Salmán of Sáwa, who has been already mentioned in Salmán of Sáwa connection with 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, is another poet whose eminence has been certified by the great Ḥáfiẓ in the following verse:

“Dost thou know who is the chief of the scholars of this age
In the way of truth and certainty, not in the way of doubt and
falsehood?
That monarch of the accomplished and king of the realm of verse
That ornament of Church and State (Jamálu'd-Dín), the Master
of the World Salmán.”

He was essentially a court-poet and panegyrist, and was attached during the greater part of his long life to the Íl-khání or Jalá'ir dynasty, his special patrons being Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Buzurg, the founder of that dynasty, his consort Dilshád Khátún, and their son Shaykh Uways. Apart from the notices of him given by the biographers cited throughout this chapter, ^260a attention should be called to two excellent biographies by Indian scholars, one in English and the other in Urdú. The first, in the Catalogue of…the Oriental Public Library at Bankipore, Firdawsí to Ḥáfiẓ (pp. 219-225), is by Mawlawí 'Abdu'l-Muqtadir, and gives a very good critical summary of the data furnished by the Persian biographers. The second is contained in an admirable collection of studies of some twenty eminent Persian poets by Shiblí Nu'mání entitled Shi'ru'l-'Ajam (“Poetry of the Persians”), ^261a compiled in 1324-5/1906-7, and lithographed at 'Aligaṛh.

That Salmán was born in or about the year 700/1300 is proved, as pointed out by Mawlawí 'Abdu'l-Muqtadir,

Salmán's earliest poems, as 'Abdu'l-Muqtadir observes, are apparently his elegies on the death of Sulṭán Abú Sa'íd (Nov.—Dec., 1335), and of his great minister Khwája Ghiyáthu'd-Dín Muḥammad, who was put to death on Ramaḍán 21, 736 (May 3, 1336). In this same year Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Buzurg established the dynasty known as Íl-khání, with its capital at Baghdád, and thither Salmán, attracted by the fame of that ruler's generosity to men of letters, made his way, probably soon after the cruel and violent death of his earlier patron Ghiyáthu'd-Dín. It is related by Dawlatsháh and other writers that he first won Shaykh Ḥasan's favour by the following verses which he extemporized on some occasion when that Prince was exhibiting his skill with the bow:^262a

“When the King lifted his Cháchí ^262b bow
Thou would'st have said that the Moon was in the Sign of
Sagittarius.
I saw the two ‘crows’ of the bow and the three-winged eagle ^262c
Bring their heads together in one corner. ^262d
They laid their heads on the King's shoulder:
I know not what they whispered in the King's ear.
When the King loosed the bow-string from the finger-stall
From every side arose the twang of the string.
O King, the arrow is subject to thy schemes,
And fortune follows the flight of thy arrow.
In thy time complaints arise from none
Save from the bow, which it is but right should lament.
For, in the reign of this auspicious Sultan
None does violence save to the bow.”

It was, however, according to the biographers, chiefly to the beautiful and accomplished Queen Dilshád Khátún, and to the amiable Prince Uways, that Salmán owed the favours which he enjoyed at the Íl-khání court, of which he says:

“Through the auspicious fortune of this House I have captured the
world with the sword of my tongue.
To-day from the East to the West I am more famous than the Sun.”

Shaykh Uways succeeded to the throne in 757/1356 and reigned nearly twenty years, and to him a great number of Salmán's qaṣídas are addressed, while anecdotes given by Dawlatsháh and reproduced by Ouseley in his Biographical Notices of the Persian Poets ^263a show the intimacy which prevailed between the two. This prince is said by Dawlatsháh to have been of such striking beauty that when he rode out the people of Baghdád used to flock into the streets to gaze upon a countenance which seemed to reincarnate the legendary comeliness of Joseph. When overtaken by untimely death, he is said to have composed the following fine verses:

“From the spirit-world one day to the realms of Body and Sense did
I roam;
I sojourned here for a few brief days, and now I am going home.
The servant was I of a mighty Lord, and I fled from my Liege and
Lord,
Whom now in shame I am going to meet with a winding-sheet and
a sword. ^263b
Comrades of mine, I leave you now to joys which I may not share,
And that you may enjoy this banquet long is my parting hope and
prayer!”

As is usually the case with panegyrists, many of Salmán's qaṣídas refer to definite historical events, and can therefore be dated. Mawlawí 'Abdu'l-Muqtadir gives a list of ten such poems, with their dates and the occasions which called them forth, from the Ḥabíbu's-Siyar. ^264a The earliest of them, composed in 739/1338 on the occasion of the flight of Shaykh Ḥasan-i-Buzurg to Baghdád, begins:^264b

“It is the time of morning, and the brink of the Tigris, and the breath
of Spring;
O, boy, bring the wine-boat to the estuary of Baghdád!”

The two latest, composed in 777/1375, celebrate a victory of Sháh Shujá' in Ádharbáyján. ^264c The second of them, which won that Prince's high approval, begins: ^264d and it was after hearing it that Sháh Shujá' observed: “We had heard the fame of three notable persons of this country, and found them differing in their circumstances. Salmán exceeded all that was said in his praise; Yúsuf Sháh the minstrel agreed with his reputation; and Shaykh Kajaḥání fell short of his.”

One of the most celebrated of Salmán's qaṣídas, however, was written to commemorate the death of Shaykh Uways, which took place in Jumáda ii, 776 (November, 1374). It begins:^264e

“O Heaven, go gently! It is no slight thing that thou hast done:
Thou hast made desolate the land of Persia by the death of the King.
Thou hast brought down a heaven from its zenith,
And hast cast it on the earth and made it level with the dust.
If thou walkest with truth, this is no insignificant matter:
Thou hast attacked the life and property and honour of every
Musulmán!”

As already stated, Salmán probably died in 778/1376, a year after the composition of two of the qaṣídas mentioned above, so that he evidently continued to write poetry until the end of his long life, and did not, as stated by Dawlat-sháh , ^265a actually retire into seclusion, though he implies his desire and intention of so doing in an interesting poem cited by Shiblí Nu'mání in his Shi'ru'l-'Ajam (vol. ii, pp. 198-200). In this poem he says that for nearly forty years he has celebrated his Royal patron's praises in the East and in the West; that he is now old and feeble, lame, and weak of sight, and wishes to retire from Court and spend the remainder of his days in praying for the King; that having been the master of the realm of poets, he desires to become the servant of the poor; that he has no doubt that the King will continue his allowance, but that he would like its source and amount to be definitely fixed; and finally that he owes considerable sums of money which he cannot pay, and prays the King to discharge these debts for him. In reply the King is said to have written two couplets on the poet's versified petition, in the first of which he orders his allowance to be continued as heretofore, while in the second he assigns him the revenues of the village of Írín near Ray.

Shiblí Nu'mání concludes his notice of Salmán with a fairly detailed and wholly favourable appreciation of his skill in the different forms of verse. His skill is chiefly apparent in his qaṣídas, which are remarkable for grace and fluency of language, and for a felicity of diction possessed by none of the earlier poets, and peculiar to those of this middle period, between which two groups Salmán marks the transition. Shiblí gives the following examples to illustrate his assertion:

“Thy mouth smiled, and produced a jar of sugar:
Thy lip spoke, and revealed glistening pearls.
Thy waist was undiscoverable, ^266a but thy girdle
Deftly clasped it round, and revealed it in gold.
Cast aside the veil from thy face, for those black tresses
Have affected the fairness of thy cheeks.”

“The breeze of the Naw-rúz ^267a brings the aroma of the beautiful rose,
[And] brings the dust of the musk of Tartary from the borders of
the desert.
The garden has decked the branch with the patterns of a peacock's
tail;
The wind hath fashioned the bud into the likeness of a parrot's head.
The [red] anemone hath displayed from the mountain-slopes the
fire of Moses;
The branch hath brought forth ‘the White Hand’ from its bosom. ^267b
The sweet-voiced nightingale, for the [delectation of the] Rose-Prince,
Hath contributed the strains of Bárbad and the songs of Nikísá. ^267c
The zephyr-breeze hath conferred high rank on the cypress;
The sweetness of the air hath endowed the anemone with a noble
robe.”

Shiblí next gives examples of Salmán's skill in inventing those graceful and subtle conceits in which the poets of the middle and later periods take pride. The following specimens may suffice:

“The cornelian of thy lip placed the coin of life in a casket of pearls;
It was a precious stuff, so it put it in a hidden place. ^268a
Thy lips put a ruby lock on the lid of that casket;
Thy mole, which was of ambergris, set a seal upon it.
A subtle thought, finer than a hair, suddenly came
Into the heart of thy girdle, and named it ‘waist’.” ^268b

“Henceforth make your rosary from the knots of the Magian's tresses;
Henceforth take as your miḥráb the arch of the idols' (fair ones')
eyebrows.
Arise joyous like the bubbles from the rose-red wine, and base no
hopes
On this bubble-like revolving dome [of sky].”

“For some while the revolution of this circle parted us from one another like the [points of a] compass, but at last brought us together [once more].”

“The Zephyr found the rose-bud laughing before thy mouth,
And smote it so sharply in the mouth that its mouth was filled with
blood.”

“I will not set my foot one hair's breadth outside this circle, ^269a
Even though they should split me like a compass into two halves
from head to foot.”

Other points in Salmán's poetry noted by Shiblí Nu'mání are his skill in the successful manipulation of difficult rhymes and awkward refrains. Thus he has long qaṣídas in which each verse ends with such words as dast (“hand”), páy (“foot”), rú (“face”), bar sar (“on the head”) preceded by the rhyming word, yet which maintain an easy and natural flow of words and ideas.

Shiblí Nu'mání next deals with the poet's “fragments” (muqaṭṭa'át), or occasional verses, which, as usual with this class of verse, are connected with various incidents in his life, and therefore have a more personal note than the odes (ghazaliyyát) and elegies (qaṣá'id), but which are unfortunately omitted from the Bombay lithographed edition.

On one occasion the King gave Salmán a black horse, which he did not like and wished to exchange for one of another colour, but the Master of the Horse apparently would not permit this. Thereupon he wrote as follows to his patron:

“O King, thou didst promise me a horse: no further discussion is
possible about the word of Kings.
They gave me an old, black horse, and I am of opinion that no more
aged black is to be found in the world.
I gave back that horse so that I might get another in such wise that
none should have knowledge of this secret.
I gave back a black horse, but they would not give me one of another
colour; yes, indeed, ‘There is no colour beyond black!’”^270a

Salmán further satirized this unfortunate horse as follows:

“O King, I had hopes that, through thy good fortune, I might mount
a tall, young and ambling horse.
They give me an old, lazy, undersized horse, not such a horse as I
can ride.
It is a horse black, feeble and lean as a pen: it would be the height
of folly to mount such a beast.
In truth it must be thirty years older than myself, and it is dis-
respectful to sit upon one's elders.”

In another fragment Salmán excuses his absence from the Court on the plea that his eyes are bad, and that though the dust of the King's threshold is a collyrium, yet the evil eye must be kept far from him:

On another similar occasion he pleads the pain in his feet (probably gout), to which he elsewhere alludes in his poems, as the cause of his absence, wittily observing that foot-ache prevents him from giving the King headache, which in the Persian idiom means trouble:

Finally Shiblí Nu'mání speaks of the innovations intro- Shiblí's summing up of Salmán's talents duced by Salmán, and especially of his skilful use of the figure called íhám or “ambiguity.” The general conclusion seems to be that Salmán deserves to be ranked amongst the great panegyrists and qaṣída-writers; that he was an ingenious, skilful and to a certain extent original poet, but that he lacks the fire, passion and conviction which make a poet great and famous beyond the limits of his own time and country.

What has been already said generally at the beginning Ḥáfiẓ of Shíráz of this chapter as to the extraordinary dearth of trustworthy information concerning the poets of this period applies especially to the most eminent and famous of them, and indeed of all the poets of Persia, the immortal and incomparable Ḥáfiẓ of Shíráz, entitled by his admirers Lisánu'l-Ghayb (“the Tongue of the Unseen”) and Tarjumánu'l-Asrár (“the Interpreter of Mysteries”). Notices of him naturally occur in all the numerous biographies of poets composed subsequently to his death, beginning with Dawlatsháh, who wrote just a century after this event, down to quite modern compilations, like Riḍá-qulí Khán's Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá and Riyáḍu'l-'Árifín; but these contain few trustworthy biographical details, and consist for the most part of anecdotes connected with certain verses of his poems, and probably in most cases, if not all, invented to explain or illustrate them. The only contemporary mention of Ḥáfiẓ with which I am acquainted is contained in the Preface of his friend and the collector and editor of his poems, Muḥammad Gulandám, who, after expatiating on the poet's incomparable genius, his catholic sympathy, and the celebrity attained by his verse even in his lifetime, not only in Persia, from Fárs to Khurásán and Ádharbáyján, but in India, Turkistán and Mesopotamia, proceeds as follows:

“However, diligent study of the Qur'án, constant attendance to the King's business, the annotation of the Kashsháf ^272a and the Miṣbáḥ, ^272b the Muḥammad Gulandám's account of Ḥáfiẓ perusal of the Maṭáli' ^272c and the Miftáḥ, ^272d the acquisition of canons of literary criticism and the appreciation of Arabic poems prevented him from collecting his verses and odes, or editing and arranging his poems. The writer of these lines, this least of men, Muḥammad Gulandám, when he was attending the lectures of our Master, that most eminent teacher Qiwámu'd-Dín 'Abdu'lláh, used constantly and repeatedly to urge, in the course of conversation, that he (Ḥáfiẓ) should gather together all these rare gems in one concatenation and assemble all these lustrous pearls on one string, so that they might become a necklace of great price for his contemporaries or a girdle for the brides of his time. With this request, however, he was unable to comply, alleging lack of appreciation on the part of his contemporaries as an excuse, until he bade farewell to this life…in A.H. 791” (A.D. 1389).

The notice of Ḥáfiẓ contained in that agreeable work of Notices of the life of Ḥáfiẓ Sir Gore Ouseley, the Biographical Notices of Persian Poets, ^273a gives most of the anecdotes connected with verses in his Díwán to which I have already alluded; while an admirable account of the times in which he lived and the general character of his poetry is to be found in the Introduction to Miss Gertrude Lowthian Bell's Poems from the Divan of Hafiz (London, 1897), which must be reckoned as the most skilful attempt to render accessible to English readers the works of this Shiblí's critical study of Ḥáfiẓ poet. On the whole, however, the best and most complete critical study of Ḥáfiẓ with which I am acquainted is contained in Shiblí Nu'mání's Urdú work on Persian Poetry entitled Shi'ru'l-'Ajam , ^273b already repeatedly quoted in this chapter. I feel that I cannot do better than summarize at any rate that portion of this notice which deals with the poet's life, and the few facts concerning his personal circumstances and relations with his contemporaries which can be deduced from his poems, indicating at the same time the Persian biographical sources to which the learned author refers. Amongst these he specially mentions the well-known Ḥabíbu's-Siyar of Khwándamír ^273c and the May-khána (“Wine-tavern”) of 'Abdu'n-Nabí Fakhru'z-Zamán (compiled in 1036/1626-7, in the reign of Jahángír), of which Persian biographies of Ḥáfiẓ latter I have no copy at hand. The Persian biographical works which I have consulted, and which yield but scanty results (since, as Shiblí points out, they generally copy from one another and often make statements not merely unsupported by any respectable evidence but mutually destructive) are Dawlatsháh's “Memoirs of the Poets”; Jámí's Baháristán ^273d and Nafaḥátu'l-Uns; ^273e Luṭf 'Alí Beg's Átash-kada (“Fire-temple”), which mainly follows Dawlatsháh; the Haft Iqlím; and the quite modern Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá (“Assembly of the Eloquent”), which gives several fresh particulars of doubtful authenticity, such as that Ḥáfiẓ came originally from Túysirkán and that he composed a commentary on the Qur'án.

Shiblí Nu'mání arranges his matter systematically, be- Parentage and childhood of Ḥáfiẓ ginning with an account of the poet's parentage and education derived from the above-mentioned May-khána, to which, however, he apparently attaches little credence. According to this account, the father of Ḥáfiẓ, who was named Bahá'u'd-Dín, migrated from Iṣfahán to Shíráz in the time of the Atábeks of Fárs, and there enriched himself by commerce, but died leaving his affairs in confusion, and his wife and little son in penury, so that the latter was obliged to earn a livelihood by the sweat of his brow. Nevertheless he found time and means to attend a neighbouring school, where he obtained at least a respectable education and learned the Qur'án by heart, in consequence of which he afterwards adopted in his poems the nom de guerre of “Ḥáfiẓ” (“Rememberer”), a term commonly applied to those who have committed to memory and can recite without error the sacred book of Islám. He soon began to compose and recite poems, but with small success until in a vigil at the shrine of Bábá Kúhí on a hill to the north of Shíráz he was visited by the Imám 'Alí, who gave him to eat some mysterious heavenly food and told him that henceforth the gift of poetry and the keys of all knowledge should be his.

Shiblí Nu'mání next passes to the enumeration of the Patrons of Ḥáfiẓ several kings and princes whose favour and patronage Ḥáfiẓ enjoyed. Of these the first was Sháh (or Shaykh) Abú Isḥáq Injú, the son of Maḥmúd Injú ^273f who was appointed governor of Fárs in the reign of

ḤÁFIẒ (left) and ABÚ ISḤÁQ (right)
Add. 7468 (Brit. Mus.), f. 34^b
To face p. 274

Gházán Khán. This Abú Isḥáq ^275a was a poet and friend of Shaykh Abú Isḥáq Injú poets, heedless, pleasure-loving, and so negligent of the affairs of state that when he was at last induced by his favourite Shaykh Amínu'd-Dín to fix his attention on the Muẓaffarí hosts who were investing his capital, he merely remarked that his enemy must be a fool to waste the delicious season of Spring in such fashion, and concluded by reciting the verse:

“Come, let us make merry just for this one night,
And let us deal tomorrow with tomorrow's business.”

Concerning Abú Isḥáq's brief but genial reign at Shíráz, Ḥáfiẓ says:

“In truth the turquoise ring of Abú Isḥáq
Flashed finely, but it was a transitory prosperity.”

The following verses, commemorating five of the chief ornaments of Shaykh Abú Isḥáq's court, also belong to this period:

“During the period of Sháh Shaykh Abú Isḥáq's rule
The kingdom of Fárs throve wondrously through five persons.
First, a king like him, a giver of governments,
Who, thou would'st say, snatched preeminence by justice, bounty and
equity.
Secondly, that Remnant of the Abdál, ^276a Shaykh Amínu'd-Dín,
Who was numbered amongst the ‘Poles’ and was the meeting-place
of the Awtád. ^276b
Thirdly, one like that just judge Aṣílu'l-Millat wa'd-Dín,
Than whom Heaven remembers no better judge.
Again one like that accomplished judge 'Aḍud [u'd-Dín al-Íjí], ^276c
Who dedicated his explanation of the Mawáqif to the King.
Again one so generous as Ḥájji Qiwám, ^276d whose heart is as the Ocean,
Who, like Ḥátim, invited all men to partake of his bounty.
These departed, leaving none like unto themselves:
May God most Great and Glorious forgive them all!”

Mubárizu'd-Dín Muḥammad b. Muẓaffar, who ruled Mubárizu'd-Dín b. Muẓaffar over Fárs from 754/1353 to 759/1357, was of a very different type to his pleasure-loving predecessor and victim. Harsh, stern and ascetic in character, he had no sooner taken possession Closing of the taverns in his reign of Shíráz than he caused all the taverns to be closed, and put a stop, as far as possible, to the drinking of wine, to the great annoyance of Ḥáfiẓ, who refers to these lean days in the following amongst other passages of his poems:

“Though wine gives delight and the wind distils the perfume of the
rose,
Drink not wine to the strains of the harp, for the constable ^277a is alert.
Hide the goblet in the sleeve of the patch-work cloak,
For the time, like the eye of the decanter, pours forth blood.
Wash your dervish-cloak from the wine-stain with tears,
For it is the season of piety and the time of abstinence.”

“O will it be that they will reopen the doors of the taverns,
And will loosen the knots from our tangled affairs?
Cut the tresses ^278a of the harp [in mourning] for the death of pure wine,
So that all the sons of the Magians ^278b may loosen their curled locks!
Write the letter of condolence for the [death of the] Daughter of the
Grape, ^278c
So that all the comrades may let loose blood [-stained tears] from
their eyelashes.
They have closed the doors of the wine-taverns; O God, suffer not
That they should open the doors of the house of deceit and hypocrisy!
If they have closed them for the sake of the heart of the self-righteous
zealot
Be of good heart, for they will reopen them for God's sake!”

Sháh Shujá', who succeeded his father Mubárizu'd-Dín Sháh Shujá' allows the taverns to be reopened and relaxed his oppressive restrictions, composed the following quatrain on the same subject:

“In the assembly of the time the concomitants of wine-bibbing are
laid low;
Neither is the hand on the harp, nor the tambourine in the hand.
All the revellers have abandoned the worship of wine
Save the city constable, who is drunk without wine.”

The reopening of the taverns is celebrated by Ḥáfiẓ in the following verses:

“At early dawn good tidings reached my ear from the Unseen Voice:
‘It is the era of Sháh Shujá': drink wine boldly!’
That time is gone when men of insight went apart
With a thousand words in the mouth but their lips silent.
To the sound of the harp we will tell those stories
At the hearing of which the cauldron of our bosoms boiled.
Princes [alone] know the secrets of their kingdom;
O Ḥáfiẓ, thou art a beggarly recluse; hold thy peace!”

In another poem Ḥáfiẓ says:

“I swear by the pomp and rank and glory of Sháh Shujá'
That I have no quarrel with anyone on account of wealth and
position.
See how he who [formerly] would not permit the hearing of music
Now goes dancing to the strains of the harp.”

In another poem he says:

“The harp began to clamour ‘Where is the objector?’
The cup began to laugh ‘Where is the forbidder?’
Pray for the King's long life if thou seekest the world's welfare,
For he is a beneficent being and a generous benefactor,
The manifestation of Eternal Grace, the Light of the Eye of Hope,
The combiner of theory and practice, the Life of the World, Sháh
Shujá'.”

In spite of this and other verses in praise of Sháh Shujá', the relations between the Prince and the Poet are Sháh Shujá' is jealous of Ḥáfiẓ said to have been somewhat strained. Sháh Shujá' had a great opinion of a poet named 'Imád-i-Faqíh (“the Jurisconsult”) of Kirmán, who is said to have taught his cat to follow him in its genuflections when he performed his prayers. This achievement was accounted by the Prince almost a miracle, but by Ḥáfiẓ a charlatan's trick, concerning which he said:

“The Ṣúfí hath made display of his virtues and begun his blandish-
ments;
He hath inaugurated his schemings with the juggling heavens.
O gracefully-moving partridge who walkest with so pretty an air,
Be not deceived because the cat of the ascetic hath said its prayers!”^280a

The scorn expressed by Ḥáfiẓ for 'Imád is said to have been the original cause of Sháh Shujá''s dislike for him,

Sháh Shujá' was greatly incensed at this answer, and soon afterwards came across the following verse of Ḥáfiẓ which seemed to deliver the poet into his hands:

“If Muḥammadanism be that which Ḥáfiẓ holds,
Alas if there should be a to-morrow after to-day!”

Ḥáfiẓ, being warned that this verse was to be made the ground of a charge of heresy or agnosticism against him,

“How pleasant to me seemed this saying which at early morn
A Christian was reciting at the door of the tavern with tambourine
and flute:”

On being charged with atheism he produced this verse along with the other, and said that he was not responsible for the opinions expressed by a Christian.^282a

Sháh Shujá' died in 785/1383-4 or 786, ^282b and was succeeded by his son Zaynu'l-'Ábidín, who, however, was Sháh Manṣúr deposed and imprisoned by his cousin Sháh Manṣúr in 789/1387. Ḥáfiẓ celebrated his triumph in a poem beginning:

“Come, for the standard of King Manṣúr has arrived;
The good tidings of conquest and victory have reached the Sun and
the Moon.”

The deposed ruler Zaynu'l-'Ábidín (who was subsequently blinded) had accepted the suzerainty of Tímúr, received his ambassador, Quṭbu'd-Dín, and inserted his name in the khuṭba and on the coins, and Tímúr himself entered Shíráz in 789/1387, some time before Zaynu'l- The alleged meeting between Tímúr and Ḥáfiẓ 'Ábidín's deposition. It must have been at this time, if at all, that the meeting between Tímúr and Ḥáfiẓ, described by Dawlatsháh ^282c and those who follow him in connection with Tímúr's second entry into Shíráz in 795/1393, three or four years after the poet's death, actually took place. The story, which is more celebrated than authentic, has been already given on pp. 188-189 supra. Dawlatsháh, with characteristic inaccuracy, first gives the date of this supposed meeting as Date of the death of Ḥáfiẓ 795/1393, and then states (incorrectly) that Ḥáfiẓ died in the previous year, 794/1392. As a matter of fact he died in 791/1389, or possibly in the following year. The former date is that given by the chronogram on his tombstone, so ingeniously paraphrased by Herman Bicknell ^283a as follows:

Chronogram.

“On spiritual man the lamp of Ḥáfiẓ gleamed;
'Mid rays from Glory's Light his brilliant taper beamed;
Muṣallá was his home: a mournful date to gain.
Thrice take thou from MOSALLA'S EARTH ITS RICHEST
GRAIN.”

The sum of the letters composing the words is 791, and the same date is obtained by subtracting three times CIII (= 309) from MLL (= 1100). ^283b The same date is given by Muḥammad Gulandám, the editor of Ḥáfiẓ's Díwán; while the following year (792) is given by Jámí in the Nafaḥátu'l-Uns, by Khwándamír in the Ḥabíbu's-Siyar, and by Faṣíḥí of Khwáf in his Mujmal or Compendium of History and Biography.

Mention has already been made of the celebrity achieved by Ḥáfiẓ even during his lifetime. As he himself says:

“The black-eyed beauties of Cashmere and the Turks of Samarqand
Sing and dance to the strains of Ḥáfiẓ of Shíráz's verse.”

In another passage ^283c he says, speaking of a poem he had just composed:

“All the parrots of India become sugar-breakers
Through this Persian candy which is going to Bengal.
Behold the annihilation of space and time in the pilgrimage of Poetry,
For this infant, though but one night old, is going on a year's
journey!”

Not only with the Muẓaffarí rulers of Shíráz, but with many other contemporary princes, Ḥáfiẓ entered into relations. Sulṭán Aḥmad ibn Uways-i-Jalá'ir, the accomplished Íl-khání ruler of Baghdád, himself a poet, musician, painter and artist, repeatedly strove to induce Ḥáfiẓ to visit his court, but, as the poet himself sang:

“The zephyr-breeze of Muṣallá and the stream of Ruknábád
Do not permit me to travel or wander afield.”

However he composed verses in this Prince's praise, amongst others the following:

“I praise God for the justice of the King
Aḥmad the son of Shaykh Uways the son of Ḥasan Íl-khání;
A Khán and the son of a Khán, a King of kingly descent,
Whom it were meet that I should call the Soul of the World.

No rose-bud of delight bloomed for me from the earth of Fárs:
O for the Tigris of Baghdád and the spiritual wine!
Curl your locks in Turkish fashion, for in thy fortune lie
The Empire of Khusraw and the status of Chingíz Khán.”

But, though Ḥáfiẓ never achieved the journey to Baghdád, he seems often to have thought of it:

“In Shíráz we did not find our way to our goal;
Happy that day when Ḥáfiẓ shall take the road to Baghdád!”

Two kings of India also sought to persuade Ḥáfiẓ to visit their courts. One of these was Maḥmúd Sháh Invitations to Ḥáfiẓ to visit India Bahmaní of the Deccan, a liberal patron of poets, who, through his favourite Mír Faḍlu'lláh, invited Ḥáfiẓ to his capital, and sent him money for his journey. Ḥáfiẓ spent a considerable portion of this sum before leaving Shíráz, and on arriving at Lár on his way to the Persian Gulf met with a destitute friend to whom he gave the remainder. Two Persian merchants, Khwája Zaynu'd-Dín of Hamadán, and Khwája Muḥam-mad of Kázarún, who were on their way to India, offered to defray the poet's expenses in return for the pleasure of his company. He went with them as far as the port of Hurmuz, where a ship was waiting to convey him to India, but a tempest which arose just as he was embarking caused him such lively consternation that, abandoning his intention, he returned to Shíráz and sent to Maḥmúd Sháh the poem beginning:

A verse-translation of the whole of this poem (though the verses stand in an order different from that given above) will be found amongst Miss Gertrude Lowthian Bell's graceful renderings of Poems from the Divan of Hafiz ^286a (No. xxi, pp. 91-93), in which the stanzas corresponding to the four couplets cited above are as follows:

“Not all the sum of earthly happiness
Is worth the bowed head of a moment's pain,
And if I sell for wine my dervish dress
Worth more than what I sell is what I gain!

* * * *

The Sultan's crown, with priceless jewels set,
Encircles fear of death and constant dread;
It is a head-dress much desired—and yet
Art sure 'tis worth the danger to the head?

* * * *

Down in the quarter where they sell red wine
My holy carpet scarce would fetch a cup—
How brave a pledge of piety is mine,
Which is not worth a goblet foaming up!

* * * *

Full easy seemed the sorrow of the sea
Lightened by hope of gain—hope flew too fast!
A hundred pearls ^286b were poor indemnity,
Not worth the blast.”^286c

Another Indian king, Sulṭán Ghiyáthu'd-Dín ibn Sulṭán Sikandar of Bengal, stated by Shiblí Nu'mání (who is responsible for the story) ^287a to have ascended the throne in 768/1366-7, is said to have corresponded with Ḥáfiẓ, who wrote for him the ode beginning:

“O cup-bearer there is talk of the cypress, the rose and the anemone,
And this discussion goes on with ‘the three cleansing draughts.’ ^287b
All the parrots of India will crack sugar
Through this Persian candy which is going to Bengal.
O Ḥáfiẓ, be not heedless of the enthusiasm of the Court of Sulṭán
Ghiyáthu'd-Dín,
For thy affair will be furthered by thy lamentation.”

Having spoken of Ḥáfiẓ's relations with contemporary princes, we pass now to the little that is known or con- Domestic circumstances of Ḥáfiẓ jectured as to his personal circumstances. For the statement that he fell in love with and ultimately married a girl called Shákh-i-Nabát (“Branch of Sugar-cane”) there is no weighty authority, nor are such domestic particulars to be expected from Persian biographers, in view of their reticence on all matrimonial matters. That he married and had several children is probable. To the death of his wife he is supposed to allude in a poem beginning:^288a

“That sweet-heart through whom our home was Fairyland,
And who, from head to foot, was like a fairy, free from blemish,”

but there is nothing in the poem to show that his wife is the person referred to. There is, however, a clearer reference to the premature death of a son in the following verses:

“O heart, thou hast seen what that clever son
Has experienced within the dome of this many-coloured vault:
In place of a silver tablet ^288b in his bosom
Fate hath placed a stone tablet ^288c on his head.”

The following fragment, ^288d also believed to refer to the death of this or another son, gives the date of this loss as Friday, 6th of Rabí' 1, 764 (Dec. 24, 1362):

“It was the morning of Friday and the sixth of the first Rabí'
When the visage of that moon-faced one declined from my heart.
In the year seven hundred and sixty four of the Flight
This difficult story became clear to me like [limpid] water.
How can regret, grief or sorrow profit
Now that life has passed in vanity without result?”

According to a biography of poets entitled Khizána-i-'Ámira , composed in India by Mír Ghulám 'Alí Khán Ázád in 1176/1762-3, a son of Ḥáfiẓ named Sháh Nu'mán came to India, died at Burhánpúr, and is buried in the Asír-Gaṛh.

As regards Ḥáfiẓ's intellectual attainments, his bilingual Intellectual attainments of Ḥáfiẓ poems alone show that he had a good knowledge of Arabic, apart from the statements of his editor, Muḥammad Gulandám, ^289a as to his more scientific work in the language. He himself says:

“No one of the Ḥáfiẓes ^289b in the world hath combined as I have
The aphorisms of the Philosophers with the Scripture of the Qur'án.”

That he knew the Qur'án by heart is proved by the verse:

“I have never seen any poetry sweeter than thine, O Ḥáfiẓ,
[I swear] by that Qur'án which thou keepest in thy bosom.”

Mawlawí Shiblí Nu'mání points out that the oft-made assertion that Ḥáfiẓ was indifferent to the favour of kings Ḥáfiẓ not indifferent to royal favour and princes is not borne out by his poems, in which there occur incidentally praises of the majority of contemporary rulers, including Sháh Shujá', Shaykh Abú Isḥáq, Sulṭán Maḥmúd, Sháh Manṣúr, and the rulers of Yazd and Hurmuz:

“The King of Hurmúz did not see me, yet showed me a hundred
favours without a word [of praise on my part];
The King of Yazd saw me, and I praised him, but he gave me
nothing.
Such is the conduct of Kings: be not thou vexed, O Ḥáfiẓ;
May God, the Giver of daily bread, vouchsafe them His Grace and
Aid!”

To the King of Yazd's failure to reward him, he again alludes in a very famous and beautiful ode: ^290a

These lines are thus rendered by Herman Bicknell:^290b

“Many a year live on and prosper, Sáqís ^290c of the Court of Jam, ^290d
E'en though I, to fill my wine-cup, never to your circle come:
East-wind, when to Yazd thou wingest, say thou to its sons from me:
‘May the head of every ingrate ball-like 'neath your mall-bat be!
‘What though from your daïs distant, near it by my wish I seem;
‘Homage to your King I render, and I make your praise my theme.’”

The difference between Ḥáfiẓ and most Persian pane- Wherein Ḥáfiẓ differs from other panegyrists gyrists is, however, as Mawlawí Shiblí Nu'mání well points out, that, unlike even such great poets as Anwarí, Ẓahír of Fáryáb and Salmán of Sáwa, he never employs mean and despicable methods to extort money, or has recourse to satire when panegyric fails.

We have already seen how devoted Ḥáfiẓ was to Shíráz, and he never wearies of singing the stream of Ruknábád and the rose-gardens of Muṣallá:

“Bring, Cup-bearer, all that is left of thy wine!
In the Garden of Paradise vainly thou'lt seek
The lip of the fountain of Ruknábád
And the bowers of Muṣallá where roses twine.”^291a

And again:

“There is a difference between the Water of Khiḍr, which dwells in
the Darkness, ^291b
And our water, of which Alláhu Akbar ^291c is the source.”

Although it is chiefly of the Spring, the Rose, the Nightingale, Wine, Youth and Beauty that Ḥáfiẓ sings, and at times of the Eternal Beauty of which all fair and desirable things are but the pale reflection, he sometimes makes incidental mention of various statesmen and scholars whose favour and patronage he has enjoyed. ^292a Amongst these are Ḥájji Qiwám, Qiwámu'd-Dín Ḥasan, ^292b Khwája Jalálu'd-Dín, Sháh Yaḥyá Nuṣratu'd-Dín and others, besides the kings and princes already mentioned. And though he wrote mathnawís, “fragments” (muqaṭṭa'át), qaṣídas and quatrains (rubá'iyyát), it is in the ode or ghazal that he especially excels. To his incomparable skill in this branch of verse many of his successors have borne testimony, amongst them Ṣá'ib, Salím and 'Urfí; ^292c but no one has better expressed it than Sir Gore Ouseley, who says:^292d

“His style is clear, unaffected and harmonious, displaying at the same time great learning, matured science, and intimate knowledge of Sir Gore Ouseley on the genius of Ḥáfiẓ the hidden as well as the apparent nature of things; but above all a certain fascination of expression unequalled by any other poet.”

It is, however, to Miss Gertrude Lowthian Bell that we are indebted for the best estimate of Ḥáfiẓ, at once critical, sympathetic, and full of insight. In particular she compares and contrasts him in the most illuminating manner with his elder contemporary Dante, after characterizing whose poetry she says:^292e

“To Ḥáfiẓ, on the contrary, modern instances have no value; contemporary history is too small an episode to occupy his thoughts.

“But some of us will feel that the apparent indifference of Ḥáfiẓ lends to his philosophy a quality which that of Dante does not possess. The Italian is bound down within the limits of his philosophy, his theory of the universe is essentially of his own age, and what to him was so acutely real is to many of us merely a beautiful or a terrible image. The picture that Ḥáfiẓ draws represents a wider landscape, though the immediate foreground may not be so distinct. It is as if his mental eye, endowed with wonderful acuteness of vision, had penetrated into those provinces of thought which we of a later age were destined to inhabit. We can forgive him for leaving to us so indistinct a representation of his own time, and of the life of the individual in it, when we find him formulating ideas as profound as the warning that there is no musician to whose music both the drunk and the sober can dance.”

Shiblí Nu'mání ascribes the perfecting of the ghazal and What the ghazal, or ode, owes to Ḥáfiẓ the extension of its scope to Ḥáfiẓ, and in a lesser degree to his contemporaries Salmán and Khwájú. With the earlier masters, such as Sa'dí, Amír Khusraw and Ḥasan of Dihli, its almost invariable theme was love. Khwájú sang of other matters as well, such as the transitoriness of the world, while Salmán excelled in rhetorical artifices and novel comparisons and similes. Ḥáfiẓ combined the merits of all, adding to them a charm all his own, and often it pleased him to take from their Díwáns a couplet or hemistich and modify it so as to add to its beauty. In the case of Sa'dí I have given some Parallel passages of Ḥáfiẓ and Khwájú. instances of this in the second volume of my Literary History of Persia, ^293a and Shiblí Nu'mání gives others as between Ḥáfiẓ and Khwájú and Salmán respectively. Amongst these latter are the following:

Shiblí Nu'mání says that he could give many other parallels between Ḥáfiẓ and Khwájú,

Shiblí Nu'mání gives a great number of other instances of parallels between Ḥáfiẓ and Salmán and Ḥáfiẓ and Khwájú, but the specimens cited above suffice to establish the fact of this parallelism, which, so far as I know, has not been hitherto noticed by any European Orientalist. It is interesting to note another fact to which reference has been previously made in vol. ii of my Literary History of Persia (pp. 83-9), viz. the tendency of most Oriental literary critics to show less interest in the diversity of ideas of two poets than in the diversity of form in which they have expressed an idea common to both. And it is because this same tendency exists in the poets themselves that we find so great a poet as Ḥáfiẓ, for instance, taking a couplet or a whole ode from one of his elder contemporaries, such as Salmán or Khwájú, and endeavouring to give a new and more attractive turn to the phraseology, while keeping the form, the rhyme and the general sense. Such appropriation of the work of others is regarded as entirely legitimate, and is not reckoned as plagiarism, when the object of the appropriating poet is to show that he can better the work of his predecessor or contemporary. This, of course, is quite different from parody, such as that indulged in by 'Ubayd-i-Zákání and Busḥáq, where the object is not to surpass but to deride.

The number of commentaries on the poems of Ḥáfiẓ,

One little Persian treatise on Ḥáfiẓ, to which my atten- The Laṭífa-iGhaybiyya of Muḥammad of Dáráb tion was first called by Mr Sidney Churchill, formerly Oriental Secretary of the British Legation at Ṭihrán, deserves a brief mention, chiefly because it formulates and subsequently endeavours to refute certain adverse criticisms on his poetry made by some of his compatriots. This little book is entitled Laṭífa-i-Ghaybiyya and was written by Muḥammad b. Muḥammad of Dáráb, concerning whose life and date I have been unable to learn anything. It comprises 127 pages of small size, was lithographed at Ṭihrán in 1304/ 1886-7, and chiefly consists of explanations of different verses. The three hostile criticisms which it seeks to refute are stated as follows on p. 5:

(1) That some of his verses are meaningless, or that, if Defence of Ḥáfiẓ against his critics they have any meaning, it is very far-fetched and enigmatical. The following instance is given:

“Cease your recriminations and return, for the pupil of my eye
Hath pulled off the cloak over its head and burned it as a thank-
offering.”^301a

(2) That some of his verses are evidently secular and profane, and refer to the pleasures of the senses in a manner which cannot be explained as allegorical, as for instance:

“My heart, in love with Farrukh's face, is agitated like Farrukh's hair.”

And again:

“A thousand blessings be on the red wine which hath removed the sallow complexion from my face!”

(3) That many of his verses smack of the Ash'arí (Sunní) doctrines, which are repudiated and execrated by the Imámí (Shí'a) doctors, e.g.:

“They did not suffer me to pass through the street of good repute:
If thou dost not approve, then change Destiny.” ^301b

“This borrowed life which the Friend hath entrusted to Ḥáfiẓ—
One day I shall see His Face and shall yield it up to Him.”^301c

Although manuscripts of Ḥáfiẓ offer as many variants as is usually the case with Persian texts, there exists of Why the Turks are better editors of Persian poetry than the Indians this poet's works an established and generally accepted text which we owe, I think, to the Turkish commentator Súdí, and which has been popularized in Europe by the editions of Brockhaus and Rosenzweig-Schwannau, so that it is usual to refer to the odes of Ḥáfiẓ by the numbers they bear in the latter edition. Turkish editions of Persian poetry, such as the Mathnawí of Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí, the Díwán of Háfiẓ, etc., are generally more accurate and trustworthy than those produced in India, which commonly contain many spurious and interpolated lines composed by the editors, lines which a Persian would be ashamed and a Turk unable to produce; for the Persian editor has in most cases enough taste (dhawq) to know that he cannot produce verses likely to be accepted as those of the master whom he is editing; while the Turkish editor is generally conscientious and laborious, but incapable of producing any Persian verses at all. The Indian editor, on the other hand, often has a certain facility of versifying without much critical taste.

This “authorized version” of the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ (which could probably be much improved by a fresh and careful Translations of Ḥáfiẓ collation of all the best and oldest manuscripts) contains in all 693 separate poems; to wit, 573 odes (ghazaliyyát); 42 fragments (muqaṭṭa'át); 69 quatrains (rubá'iyyát); 6 mathnawís; 2 qaṣídas, and one “five-some” or mukhammas. Of all of these poems German verse-translations are given by Rosenzweig-Schwannau, and English prose translations by Wilberforce Clarke. There exist also many translations of individual odes or groups of odes in English, German, Latin, French, etc., either in verse or prose. ^302a Of English verse translations the largest and most sumptuous collection is that of Herman Bicknell, who was born in 1830, studied Medicine at St Bartholomew's Hospital and took the degree of M.R.C.S. in 1854, entered the Army Medical Service, went through the Indian Mutiny, travelled widely in Europe, Asia, Africa and America, made the pilgrimage to Mecca under the name of 'Abdu'l-Waḥíd in 1862, and spent some time at Shíráz “with the object of clearing up doubtful points [in the Díwán], and of becoming personally acquainted with the localities mentioned by the Poet.” He died in 1875, and his posthumous work was brought out with loving care by his brother, A. S. Bicknell, in the same year. It contains, besides the Preface, Introduction, Appendix and Indices, and nine illustrations, translations, complete or partial, of 189 ghazaliyyát, all the 42 muqaṭṭa'át and 69 rubá'iyyát, 2 out of the 6 mathnawís, and the one muk-hammas .

Of most of these translations of Ḥáfiẓ, from the Latin renderings of Meninski (1680), Thomas Hyde (1767) and Revisky (1771); the French (1799) and English (1792) versions of Sir William Jones; the numerous German versions from Wahl (1791) to Bodenstedt (1877); and the later English efforts of Payne, Justin McCarthy and Wilber-force Clarke, I do not propose to speak here; but I shall say something of three of the English verse-translations which seem to me the most worthy of attention. Of the oldest of these three, that of Herman Bicknell, published in 1875, I have already spoken above. The next in point of time is that of Miss Gertrude Lowthian Bell (London, 1897), which contains, besides an admirable Introduction on the life, times and character of the poet, verse-translations of 43 of the odes. These, though rather free, are, in my opinion, by far the most artistic, and, so far as the spirit of Ḥáfiẓ is concerned, the most faithful renderings of his poetry. Lastly, in 1898 Mr Walter Leaf published 28 “Versions from Ḥáfiẓ,” in which he endeavoured to reproduce the form as well as the sense of the original poems, with as much success, probably, as is attainable under these conditions. The existence of these three versions exonerates me from attempting, as I have done in the case of other less known Persian poets, to produce versions of my own. In their different ways they are all good: Herman Bicknell's are accurate as regards the sense, and often very ingenious, especially the chrono-grams; Walter Leaf's give an excellent idea of the form; while Miss Bell's are true poetry of a very high order, and, with perhaps the single exception of FitzGerald's paraphrase of the Quatrains of 'Umar Khayyám, are probably the finest and most truly poetical renderings of any Persian poet ever produced in the English language; for, though some of Sir William Jones's verse-translations are pretty enough, they can hardly be dignified by the name of poetry, and are, moreover, so free that they can scarcely be called translations.

For the sake of comparison I gave elsewhere ^304a five different English verse-translations of one of the best-known of the odes of Ḥáfiẓ, that beginning: ^304b

which has been rendered into English verse by Sir William Jones, Herman Bicknell, Miss Bell, Walter Leaf, and myself. I cannot find so many English verse-renderings of any other of the odes of Ḥáfiẓ, for, though many of those translated by Miss Bell are also to be found in Herman Bicknell's translation, only three or four of the former are included amongst the 28 published by Walter Leaf. The one fault to be found with Miss Bell's versions is that they are not arranged in any order, nor is any indication given of the opening words of the original, nor reference to its position in the text of Rosenzweig-Schwannau which she has followed; and only after I had succeeded, with considerable labour, in identifying the originals of all but nine or ten of her translations did I ascertain that my friend Mr Guy le Strange possessed an annotated copy of her book containing all the references I required save one (No. xv), which was wrongly given, and which I am still unable to identify. For the convenience, therefore, of other readers of her admirable book, I give below the reference to each Comparative table of odes translated by Miss Bell and other translators. original in Rosenzweig-Schwannau's edition, specifying the volume, page, and number under each rhyming letter, and adding a reference to Bicknell and Leaf in cases where an ode has also been rendered by them.

As already noted, only three or four of the odes have been rendered in English verse by Miss Bell, Herman Bicknell and Walter Leaf, and of one of them (Agar án Turk-i-Shírází…) the parallel renderings were published in my paper on Persian Literature, to which reference has been already made, together with others. Another ode rendered by the three writers above mentioned is that beginning: ^306b

Of this also, for the sake of comparison, I here reprint the three versions, beginning with Herman Bicknell's, which is as follows:

(1) “In blossom is the crimson rose, and the rapt bulbul trills his song;
A summons that to revel calls you, O Ṣúfís, wine-adoring throng!

(2) The fabric of my contrite fervour appeared upon a rock to bide;
Yet see how by a crystal goblet it hath been shattered in its pride.

(3) Bring wine; for to a lofty spirit, should they at its tribunal be,
What were the sentry, what the Sultan, the toper or the foe of glee?

(4) Forth from this hostel of two portals as finally thou needst must go,
What if the porch and arch of Being be of high span or meanly low?

(5) To bliss's goal we gain not access, if sorrow has been tasted not;
Yea, with Alastu's ^307a pact was coupled the sentence of our baleful lot.

(6) At Being and Not-being fret not, but either with calm temper see:
Not-being is the term appointed for the most lovely things that be.

(7) Áṣaf's display, the airy courser, the language which the birds em-
ployed,
The wind has swept; and their possessor no profit from his wealth
enjoyed. ^307b (8) Oh! fly not from thy pathway upward, for the winged shaft that
quits the bow
A moment to the air has taken, to settle in the dust below.

(9)	What words of gratitude, O Ḥáfiẓ,
	Shall thy reed's tongue express anon,
	As its choice gems of composition
	From hands to other hands pass on?”

(1) “Aflame with bloom is the red rose, the bulbul drunk with Spring;
What ho, adorers of Wine! Hear the call to mirth that they fling.

(2) The corner-stone of repentance that seemed a rock firm-set
Is rent and riven asunder by touch of glasses a-ring.

(3) Fill high the bowl with the red wine, for here is Liberty Hall,
The sage is one with the toper, the ploughman e'en as the king.

(4) From out this Hostel of Two Doors the signal calls us away,
Alike if low be the roof-tree or lofty dome upspring.

(5) We conquer only through anguish the resting-place of delight;
To life, by bond of Alast-vow, the long ‘Alas’ must cling. ^308a (6) With IS and IS NOT annoy not thy heart; be merry of soul,
For IS NOT is but the last end of every perfect thing.

(7) The fame of Asaph, the wind-steed, the speech with birds of the air
As wind have passed; to their master no more avail shall they
bring.

(8) No pinion heavenward soaring desire; the arrow aloft
Shall sink to dust in the end, howsoe'er it leap on the wing.

(9) What thanks and praises, O ḤÁFIẒ, shall yield the tongue of thy
pen,
That all the songs of thy singing from mouth to mouth men sing?”

(1) “The rose has flushed red, the bud has burst,
And drunk with joy is the nightingale—
Hail, Ṣúfís, lovers of wine, all hail!
For wine is proclaimed to a world athirst.

(2) Like a rock your repentance seemed to you;
Behold the marvel! Of what avail
Was your rock, for a goblet has cleft it in two!

(3) Bring wine for the King and the slave at the gate!
Alike for all is the banquet spread,
And drunk and sober are warmed and fed.

(4) When the feast is done and the night grows late,
And the second door of the tavern gapes wide,
The low and the mighty must bow the head
'Neath the archway of Life, to meet what…outside?

(5) Except thy road through affliction pass,
None may reach the halting-station of mirth;
God's treaty: Am I not Lord of the earth?
Man sealed with a sigh: Ah yes, alas!

(6) Nor with IS nor IS NOT let thy mind contend;
Rest assured all perfection of mortal birth
In the great IS NOT at the last shall end.

(7) For Assaf's pomp, and the steeds of the wind,
And the speech of birds down the wind have fled,
And he that was lord of them all is dead;
Of his mastery nothing remains behind.

(8) Shoot not thy feathered arrow astray!
A bow-shot's length through the air it has sped,
And then…dropped down in the dusty way.

(9) But to thee, oh Ḥáfiẓ, to thee, oh tongue
That speaks through the mouth of the slender reed,
What thanks to thee when thy verses speed
From lip to lip, and the song thou hast sung?”

This one example of three parallel translations will suffice to show generally the style of work of the three translators. Miss Bell's is the least literal, but by far the most poetical, and is a wonderful interpretation of the spirit of the original. Walter Leaf aims especially at exactly reproducing the form (both as regards rhyme and metre), as well as the sense, of the original. Herman Bicknell steers a middle course, making each verse of his translation correspond with its original, but not attempting to preserve the same rhyme throughout the poem.

In view of these and other excellent translations of Ḥáfiẓ into verse and prose in English and other European languages, I will content myself with quoting here the renderings by Miss Bell and Herman Bicknell of one more ode of Ḥáfiẓ, which has a certain special interest because it is engraved on his tombstone, ^309a and which begins:

“Where doth Thy love's glad message echo for my rapt soul
To rise?
This sacred bird from the world's meshes yearns to its goal
To rise.
I swear, wilt Thou Thy servant name me, by all my love sublime
Higher than my desire of lordship o'er space and time
To rise.
Vouchsafe, Lord, from Thy cloud of guidance to pour on me Thy
rain,
Ere Thou command me as an atom from man's domain
To rise.
Bring minstrels and the wine-cup with thee, or at my tomb ne'er sit:
Permit me in thy perfume dancing from the grave's pit
To rise.
Though I am old, embrace me closely, be it a single night:
May I, made young by thy caresses, at morn have might
To rise!

Arouse thee! show thy lofty stature,
Idol of winning mien:
Enable me, as soul-reft Ḥáfiẓ,
From Nature's scene
To rise!”

“Where are the tidings of union? that I may arise—
Forth from the dust I will rise up to welcome thee!
My soul, like a homing bird, yearning for Paradise,
Shall arise and soar, from the snares of the world set free.
When the voice of love shall call me to be thy slave,
I shall rise to a greater far than the mastery
Of life and the living, time and the mortal span:
Pour down, oh Lord! from the clouds of Thy guiding grace
The rain of a mercy that quickeneth on my grave,
Before, like dust that the wind bears from place to place,
I arise and flee beyond the knowledge of man.
When to my grave thou turnest thy blessed feet,
Wine and the lute shalt thou bring in thy hand to me,
Thy voice shall ring through the folds of my winding-sheet,
And I will arise and dance to thy minstrelsy.
Though I be old, clasp me one night to thy breast,
And I, when the dawn shall come to awaken me,
With the flash of youth on my cheek from thy bosom will rise.

THE TOMB OF ḤÁFIẒ AT SHÍRÁZ
By kind permission of Professor A. V. Williams Jackson and Messrs Macmillan
To face p. 310

Rise up! let mine eyes delight in thy stately grace!
Thou art the goal to which all men's endeavour has pressed,
And thou the idol of Ḥáfiẓ's worship; thy face
From the world and life shall bid him come forth and arise!”

The tomb of Ḥáfiẓ is in a beautiful garden, called after him the “Ḥáfiẓiyya,” situated near Shíráz. It was much The tomb of Ḥáfiẓ beautified by Abu'l-Qásim Bábur, ^311a the great-grandson of Tímúr, when he conquered Shíráz in 856/1452, the work being entrusted by him to Mawláná Muḥammad Mu'ammá'í. ^311b At a later date (1226/1811) it was further embellished by Karím Kháni-Zand, one of the best rulers that Persia has ever had, ^311c by whom the present tombstone, a slab of fine alabaster, was contributed. The Ḥáfiẓiyya is much honoured and much frequented by the people of Shíráz and by visitors to that city, and the poet's grave is surrounded by the graves of many others who have sought proximity to those illustrious ashes, so that his own words have been fulfilled when he said:

“When thou passest by our tomb, seek a blessing, for it shall become a place of pilgrimage for the libertines of all the world.”

Before passing on to the mention of other poets, something must be said as to the practice of taking an augury Taking auguries from the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ (tafá'ul) from the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ which is so prevalent in Persia, where the only other book used for this purpose (and that much more rarely) is the Qur'án itself, just as the ancient Romans used to use Vergil (Sortes Vergilianœ). It has been already mentioned that Ḥáfiẓ is often entitled Lisánu'l-Ghayb (“The Tongue of the Unseen”) and Tarjumánu'l-Asrár (“The Interpreter of Mysteries”), and it is generally believed by his fellow-countrymen that, in case of doubt as to the course of action to be pursued, valuable indications may be obtained by opening the Díwán at random, after the utterance of suitable invocations, and taking either the first verse on which the eye falls, or the last ode on the open page, with the first line of the succeeding ode. Tables, called Fál-náma, comprising a number of squares (always a multiple of some number such as 7 or 9) each containing one letter are also employed for the same purpose; and one of these, with instructions for its use, is often prefixed to Oriental editions of the Díwán. ^312a These tables, however, in spite of their mysterious and impressive appearance, only give a very limited number of answers—seven when the squares are a multiple of seven, nine when they are a multiple of nine, and so on; and as Lane has well observed, in speaking of similar squares used by the Egyptians, in consequence of the view prevailing in the East generally that, if in doubt, it is better, as a rule, to refrain from action, a majority of the answers provided for are generally distinctly discouraging or of a negative character, and only a few encouraging.

The table referred to in the last foot-note comprises 15 × 15 = 225 squares, each containing one letter. Nine Analysis of a fál-náma hemistichs each containing 25 letters are chosen (9 × 25 also = 225). In the first square is placed the first letter of the first hemistich; in the second square the first letter of the second hemistich, and so on to the ninth square, in which is placed the first letter of the ninth hemistich. Next follow the second letters of each hemistich in the same order, the second letter of the first hemistich in the tenth square, the second letter of the second hemistich in the eleventh square, and so on, until the table concludes at the 225th square with the last (25th) letter of the last (ninth) hemistich. In using the table, the finger is placed at random on one of the 225 squares, and the letter it contains is written down, and after it, in a circle, the 24 letters obtained by taking each 9th square from the point of departure until the cycle is completed. By beginning at the proper point, these 25 letters give the first hemistich of one of the odes, which can then be readily found in the Díwán. The table in question gives the following nine hemistichs, to each of which I have added the second hemistich (not included in the table, but needed to complete the verse), the reference to Rosenzweig's edition, and the English translation.

“We have tried our fortune in this city; we must withdraw our gear from this gulf.”

This would supply an answer to one who was hesitating as to whether he should emigrate from the place where he was, or not.

“Welcome, O bird of auspicious advent and fortunate message!
Good is thy arrival! What news? Where is the Friend? Which is
the road?”

“If I go home from this abode of exile, then, when I go thither, I shall go wisely and sensibly.”

This would supply an answer to a traveller or exile who was wondering whether he would not do well to return home.

“Should my lucky star aid me, I will lay hold on his skirt;
Should I pluck it, O the delight! And should he slay me, O the
honour!”

“Show thy face and take away from my memory all thought of my
own existence;
Bid the wind bear away all the harvest of those who are burned out!”

“I said, ‘I have longing for thee!’ She replied, ‘Thy longing will come
to an end.’
I said, ‘Be thou my Moon!’ She replied, ‘If it comes off!’”

“O Lord, that fresh and smiling rose which Thou didst entrust to me
I now entrust to Thee from the envious eye of the flower-bed.”

“My desire hath not yet been fulfilled in respect to my craving for
thy lip;
In the hope of the ruby goblet [of thy mouth] I am still a drainer
of dregs.”

“Arise, that we may seek an opening through the door of the tavern,
That we may sit in the Friend's path and seek [the fulfilment of] a
wish!”

As will be seen, the answers supplied by these vague Instances of appropriate auguries drawn from Ḥáfiẓ oracles are often of a somewhat uncertain nature, besides being limited in number to nine. The other method of opening the Díwán at random gives, of course, much richer results, and there stands on record many a remarkable response, which si non é vero é ben trovato. Six of these are recorded at the end (pp. 122-7) of the little treatise entitled Laṭífa-i-Ghay-biyya which has been already mentioned.^315a

The first refers to Sháh Isma'íl the Great, the founder of the Ṣafawí dynasty, who made the Shí'a doctrine the official creed of Persia, and carried his energy so far in this endeavour that he ordered the tombs of persons of suspected orthodoxy or of known Sunní proclivities to be destroyed. One day, accompanied by a certain ignorant and fanatical priest known as Mullá Magas, ^315b he visited the tomb of Ḥáfiẓ, and Mullá Magas urged him to have it destroyed, alleging (as had been alleged by the poet's contemporaries) that he was unorthodox in belief and dissolute in life. The King thereupon announced his intention of taking an augury from the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ, which opened at the following verse:

“At dawn Orion displayed his belt before me,
As though to say, ‘I am the King's slave, and this I swear.’”

This, it is to be supposed, Sháh Isma'íl took as an expression of the deceased poet's loyalty to himself, and thereupon, well pleased, he again opened the book at random and was confronted by the following verse, which was even more evidently intended for his ecclesiastical companion:

“O fly (magas)! the presence of the Símurgh ^316a is no fit place for thy
evolutions:
Thou dost but dishonour thyself and vex us!”

After this it may be assumed that Mullá Magas effaced himself!

The story referred to above, but not given in the Laṭífa-i-Ghaybiyya , is that, when Ḥáfiẓ died, some of his detractors objected to his being buried in the Muslim equivalent of consecrated ground, but that, on an augury being taken from his poems to decide the question, the following very appropriate verse resulted:

“Withhold not thy footsteps from the bier of Ḥáfiẓ,
For, though he is immersed in sin, he will go to Paradise!”

The second instance given by the Laṭífa-i-Ghaybiyya refers to another king of the same dynasty, Sháh Ṭahmásp, ^316b who one day, while playing with a ring which he valued very highly, dropped it, and, though he caused an exhaustive search for it to be made under the carpets and cushions, could not find it. An augury taken from Ḥáfiẓ gave the following result:

“What cares a heart which mirrors the Unseen and possesses the Goblet of Jamshíd for a ring which is mislaid for a moment?” ^317a The king clapped his hands on his knees in admiration for the appositeness of this verse, and immediately felt the ring in a fold of his robe into which it had accidentally slipped.

The third anecdote refers to yet another Ṣafawí King, Sháh 'Abbás the Second (A.D. 1642-1667), who obtained the following augury as to a campaign which he was meditating against the province of Ádharbáyján, of which Tabríz is the capital:^317b

“Thou hast captured 'Iráq and Fárs by thy verse, O Ḥáfiẓ:
Come, for it is now the turn of Baghdád and the time for Tabríz.”

This decided the king in favour of the campaign, which turned out completely successful.

The fourth anecdote refers to the same king as the last. He had a servant named Siyáwush, whom his fellow-servants, through jealousy and malice, desired to destroy, so that they were constantly striving to convince the King that he was worthy of death. The result of an augury from the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ was this verse:

“The King of the Turks hearkens to the speech of the accusers:
May he be ashamed of the wrong of [shedding] the blood of Siyá-
wush!”^318a

The fifth instance is from the author's own experience. In 1052/1642-3 he reached Aḥmad-ábád, then the capital of Gujerát in India, and there made the acquaintance of a certain Kan'án Beg, one of the notables of the place, who had a brother named Yúsuf Beg. The latter, who was in the army of Gujerát, had a little time previously been reported missing in a battle fought near Aḥmad-ábád against a hostile force. His brother, Kan'án Beg, was greatly disquieted until the following augury from Ḥáfiẓ assuaged his anxiety, which was soon afterwards dispelled by his brother's safe return:

“Lost Joseph (Yúsuf) will return to Canaan (Kan'án): grieve not!
The house of sorrows will one day become a rose-garden: grieve not!”

The sixth and last instance refers to a certain Fatḥ-'Alí Sulṭán, the son of Imám-qulí Khán, a youth remarkable for his beauty, who was the author's contemporary. One day, flushed with wine, and clad in a green coat (qabá) embroidered with gold, he visited the tomb of Ḥáfiẓ on the day specially set apart for this, which falls in the latter part of the month of Rajab, and while there took an augury from the Díwán, which gave the following verse:

“When thou passest by, drunk with wine and clad in a gold-embroidered
coat,
Vow one kiss to Ḥáfiẓ who is clad in wool!”^319a

“What is one kiss?” exclaimed Fatḥ-'Alí; “I promise two kisses!” A week passed ere he revisited the tomb, and took another augury, which was as follows:

“Thou didst say, ‘I will get drunk and give thee two kisses’:
The promise has passed its limit [of time], and we have seen neither
two nor even one.”

“What are two kisses?” cried the lad; “I promise three kisses!” And again he went away without discharging his vow, and did not return until another week had elapsed, when he again took an augury, and received the following answer:

“Those three kisses which thou didst assign to me from thy two lips,
If thou dost not pay them, then thou art my debtor!”

Thereupon Fatḥ-'Alí Sulṭán leapt from his seat and imprinted kiss after kiss upon the poet's tombstone.

Other instances of omens taken from the Díwán of Ḥáfiẓ by the Moghul Emperor Jahángír, and recorded in his own handwriting in the margins of a manuscript formerly in his possession, are given in the Bankipore Catalogue (Persian Poetry: Firdawsí to Ḥáfiẓ), pp. 231-52.

Not much is known concerning this poet, who, however,

“These efforts of mine in my poetry are my ‘Speak to me O Ḥumayrá’!”^320b

Kamál's spiritual guide was a certain Khwája 'Ubaydu- Particulars of Kamál's life 'lláh who resided for some time at Shásh, ^320c a place situated like Khujand in Transoxiana. At an unknown but probably fairly early period of his life Kamál migrated to Tabríz, where he made his home, and for which he conceived a great affection. The Jalá'irí Sulṭán Ḥusayn, son of Uways (776-784/1374-1382) showed him much favour and built for him a monastery or rest-house. Jámí says that when after Kamál's death they entered his private room in this rest-house, they found in it no furniture save a mat of coarse reeds on which he used to sit and sleep, and a stone which served him for a pillow. In Tabríz, where he obtained a great reputation for sanctity, he came under the influence of Shaykh Zaynu'd-Dín Khwáfí.^321a

In 787/1385 Túqtámish, Khán of Qipcháq, raided Tabríz, and, after the fashion of Tímúr and other conquerors of those days, carried off Kamál amongst other learned and pious persons to his own capital, Saráy. There he remained for four years, ^321b at the end of which period he returned to Tabríz where he died, ^321c according to most authorities, in 803/1400-1. Dawlatsháh places his death in 792/1390, a date which Rieu shows reason for regarding as much too early. A still later date (808/1405-6) is given by the Majálisu'l-'Ushsháq. On the poet's tomb was inscribed the verse:

“O Kamál! Thou hast gone from the Ka'ba to the door of the Friend:
A thousand blessings on thee! Thou hast gone right manfully!”

During his second sojourn at Tabríz Kamál was patronized by Tímúr's son Míránsháh, who was then governor of Ádharbáyján, and who is said to have given the poet, in return for some fruit which he or his soldiers had eaten from his garden, a sum of a thousand dínárs wherewith to discharge his debts.

The Díwán of Kamál of Khujand has never, so far as I know, been published, and is not common in manuscript, though copies are to be found in most of the larger collections of Persian books. I possess an undated but well-written and fairly ancient manuscript, from which the following selections are taken.

“O Kamál, have thy tears from every eye-lash assumed the hue of
Salmán
Because he hath stolen from other people's poetry his brilliant
ideas?”

“The breeze combed the tresses of my Friend; may God keep him in
health for ever!
So long as thou art upright in figure like an alif, we are like a lám
in the midst of woe! ^322a
The moist eye is best [laid] on thy lips, for sweet-meats are best
[eaten] with what is moist.
The wounded heart is so filled with the pain of thy love that the
very idea of healing cannot enter it.
Vex not thy heart with grief for the Friend, O Kamál: his mouth is
the Water of Life wherein is healing.”

“Hardly can the artist draw the picture of thy two eyebrows;
They cannot easily draw a double bow!”

“What company, what paradise, what resting-place are here!
Lasting life, the lip of the cup-bearer, the brim of the goblet are here!
That Fortune which fled from all [others] did not pass by this door;
That joy which escaped all is here a servant!
When thou enterest our joyous abode with sorrow in thy heart
All say, ‘Indulge not in sorrow, for it is forbidden here!’
We are on the roof of heaven: if thou passest by us
Go gently, for here is the glass and the edge of the roof! ^323a
In our audience-chamber there is neither seat of honour nor thres-
hold; ^323b
Here King and dervish know not which is which!
Like wood of aloes we are all hot-footed and burning,
Save the ice-cold ascetic, who is here [accounted] raw.
How often, O Kamál, wilt thou ask, ‘What station is this which thou
possessest?
Whose station is this?’ For here is neither abode nor lodging!”

“O Moon of mine, the Festival ^324a is come: may it bring thee happiness!
What wilt thou give as a festal-gift to thy lovers?
Thy cheek is at once our festal-gift and our Festival:
Without thy cheek may our Festival be no Festival!
Thou hast said: ‘I will ask after thee next Festival’:
Alas! for this promise is of long standing!
Deliver my soul from grief since the Festival hath come,
For at the Festival they set free captives.
The Festival is come: cease to threaten Kamál;
At the festal season they make glad the hearts of all!”

“Blessings on thy power of expression, O Kamál!
Thou hast, indeed, no choice as to approval.
The fruit which they bring from Khujand
Is not so sweet and so luscious!”

“Thy pain is better than balm, O Friend!
Thy sorrow enlargeth the soul, O Friend!
He who begs of thee at thy door
Seeks naught but pain and calamity, O Friend!
Notwithstanding that through poverty I have not
Aught which is worthy of thine acceptance, O Friend.
I will lay before thee my two bright eyes,
I will say, ‘It is the gaze of sincerity, O Friend!’
Thou didst say, ‘I will slay thee,’ but this is not right:
Is it right that a friend should slay, O Friend?
Whatever the heart said in praise of thy stature
God brought true (or straight), O Friend!
Straight have I made this ode to thy stature:
Write, ‘It is by Kamál,’ O Friend!”

Kamál is, so far as I know, the only poet who endeavours as far as possible to make all his odes of a uniform length, namely seven verses, as he expressly declares in the two following fragments:

“My odes are for the most part seven verses,
Not forgotten like the utterance of Salmán.
When Ḥáfiẓ recites them in 'Iráq
Fluently and aloud, [they are] like ‘the seven hard ones’; ^325a
All seven [are] like heaven in their foundation,
And of such sort 'Imád [of Kirmán] has not a single verse.”

“The odes of Kamál are seven verses;
Of the grace thereof the ‘Five Treasures’ ^326a are but a tenth part.
There exist also poems of seven verses by some of my friends,
Each one of which is limpid and fluent and charming,
But of every seven of them there should be erased
Four verses from the beginning and three from the end!”

“When the Díwán of Kamál falls into thine hand
Copy of his poetry as much as thou wilt.
If thou wishest to understand aright
His rare ideas and expressions and words
Do not pass swiftly over each word like the pen,
But dive down into every letter like the ink.”

“There are two Kamáls famous in the world,
One from Iṣfahán ^327a and one from Khujand.
This one is incomparable in the ode,
And that one unrivalled in the elegy.
Between these two Kamáls, in a manner of speaking,
There is no more than a few hairs' breadths' difference!”

“Salmán requested from me a poem, saying, ‘In my album there is
no specimen of that verse.’
I gave him those answering words like unto which [in value] is no
pearl in [the Sea of] Aden.
I wrote them for thee, but his words are naught in my sight.”

“That Ṣúfí with his nose cut off hath nothing for us but helplessness
and humility;
One cannot accuse him of the fault of self-conceit (khud-bíní),
For the poor wretch hath not even a nose (khud bíní na-dárad)!”^327b

Two or three “fragments” are addressed to a certain Ḥáfiẓ, who, however, appears to be a minstrel or harper of that name, not the celebrated poet of Shíráz. The following, however, almost certainly alludes to the contemporary poet 'Aṣṣár of Tabríz:^328a

“At length poor 'Aṣṣár died and departed: he took upon his neck the blood of the courts ^328b and departed.”

The following fragment, to which Rieu refers, ^328c contains an allusion to an historical event, viz. the invasion of Túqtámish:

“Our Farhád said to Mír Walí, ‘Let us restore the Rashídiyya ^328d quarter;
Let us give gold to the Tabrízís for bricks and stone for this building.’
The poor fellow was busy with his hill-piercing when, more numerous
than the ants of the mountain and the plain,

The army of King Túqtámish arrived, and the Unseen Voice thus
cried:
‘Shírín's ruby [lip] became the portion of Khusraw [Parwíz],
While Farhád vainly pierces the rock!’”^329a

The following fragment refers to the poet Humám of Tabríz (a contemporary of Sa'dí) and contains an “insertion” (Taḍmín) or citation from his poems:

“I said, ‘From the region [or Egypt] of ideas I will send thee
A few sweet trifles which will be like sugar in thy mouth’:
Again I feared this criticism, that thou mightest say like Humám
‘Do not again bring sugar from Egypt to Tabríz!’”

Other fragments contain allusions to Niẓámí and Sa'dí, while one is addressed to a poet named Ma'jarí of Samarqand, and the following to another (presumably a contemporary rival) called Ma'ádhí:

“This is my petition in my every private prayer, 'O my Succour and
my Refuge,
Save all people of taste and lovers of music from the harp of Maláṭí
and the poetry of Ma'ádhí!”

The following is a rather original and pretty conceit:

“Knowest thou what is the cause of chuckling of the wine-bottles?
They are laughing at the beard of the town-constable!”

The following fragment seems to show that Kamál's odes were not collected into a Díwán until after his death:

“A certain man of discernment said to me, ‘Why is it
That thou hast [composed] poetry, yet hast no Díwán?’
I replied, ‘Because, like some others,
My verse is not copious and abundant.’
He said, ‘Although thy verse is scanty [in amount]
It is not less [in value] than their utterances.’”

As is so often the case with Persian poets, Kamál's fragments are much more intimate and personal, and contain more allusions to contemporary events and persons (though for lack of fuller knowledge these allusions must often remain obscure) than his odes; and for this reason I have here quoted them to a disproportionate extent.

Of the life and circumstances of Maghribí, one of the Maghribí most thorough-going pantheistic poets of Persia, little is known, though notices of him are given by most of the biographers. ^331a He is generally stated to have died in 809/1406-7 at Tabríz at the age of sixty years, so that he must have been born about 750/1349-1350; but by a minority of the biographers his death is placed two years earlier. The learned modern historian Riḍá-qulí Khán states that he was born at Ná'in, near Iṣfahán, and buried at Iṣṭahbánát in Fárs, but he is generally reckoned a native of Tabríz. His poetical name Maghribí is said to be due to the fact that he travelled in the Maghrib (N.W. Africa), where he was invested with the dervish cloak (khirqa) by a Shaykh who traced his spiritual pedigree to the great Maghribí mystic Shaykh Muḥiyyu'd-Dín ibnu'l-'Arabí, whose thought even at the present day has a great influence in Persia, and whose Persian disciples, poets like 'Iráqí, Awḥadu'd-Dín, Maghribí and even the later Jámí, are conspicuous for their thorough-going pantheism. Of Maghribí Riḍá-qulí Khán truly says in his Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá:

“His doctrine is the Unity of Being (Pantheism), and his inspiration the rapture of Vision, ^331b nor can one find throughout all his verse aught save this one idea. His tarjí'-bands and ghazals are all filled with the verities of the true Unitarianism.”^331c

Maghribí is said by Jámí and other biographers to have been personally acquainted with the poet last discussed, Kamál of Khujand, which is probable enough, since the two were contemporaries and spent at any rate a considerable part of their lives at Tabríz. On one occasion he is said to have found fault with the following verse of Kamál's on the ground that it evidently referred to material charms, and was not susceptible of a mystical interpretation: ^332a

“If eyes be such, and eyebrows such, and charm and coquetry such,
Farewell, abstinence and piety! Good-bye, reason and religion!”

Kamál, hearing this, sought an interview with Maghribí, and said: “[The Persian] chashm is [equivalent to the Arabic] 'ayn; ^332b so it may be that in the language of allusion it is to be interpreted as the Eternal Essence ('Ayn-i-Qadím), which is the Divine Personality. So also [the Persian] abrú is [equivalent to the Arabic] ḥájib, ^332c so it may be that it may be taken as alluding to the Divine Attributes, which are the veil of the Essence.” Maghribí, on hearing this explanation, apologized and withdrew his criticism. If it be true, however, as stated by Rieu, ^332d that Kamál superseded Maghribí in the favour of Tímúr's son Míránsháh, the Governor of Ádharbáyján, it is possible that the relations of the two poets were not of the most cordial character.

As the above particulars practically exhaust the little we know of Maghribí's life, we may now pass on to his poetry, which is represented by a comparatively small Díwán, comprising for the most part odes (ghazaliyyát) with a few tarjí'-bands and quatrains. It has been several times lithographed in Persia, ^332e and I also possess a good and well-written, but undated, manuscript. The lithographed edition comprises 153 smallish pages each containing 17 lines, and the total number of verses may be estimated at about 2300. The poems, so far as I have examined them, are entirely mystical, and contain no allusions to the poet's life and times. The following specimens are typical:

“When the Sun of Thy Face appeared, the atoms of the Two Worlds
became manifest.
When the Sun of Thy Face cast a shadow, from that shadow Things
became apparent.
Every atom, through the Light of the Sun of Thy Countenance, be-
came manifest like the Sun.
The atom owes its existence to the Sun, while the Sun becomes mani-
fest through the atom.

The Ocean of Being was tossed into waves; it hurled a wave to-
wards the shore.
That wave sunk and rose in some heart-delighting raiment and form.
Like violets the Ideas sprung up like the pleasant down on some fair
beauty's face.
The anemones of the [Eternal] Realities blossomed; a thousand tall
cypresses appeared.
What were all these? The counterpart of that Wave; and what was
that Wave? Identical [in substance] with the Ocean.
Every particle which exists is identical with the whole; then is the
whole altogether the parts.
What are the parts? The manifestations of the All; what are
things? The shadows of the Names.
What are the Names? The revelation of the Sun, the Sun of the
Beauty of the Supreme Essence.
What is the Shore? The land of Contingent Being, which is the
Book of God Most High.
O Maghribí, cease this discourse: do not make plain the Mystery of
the Two Worlds!”

“O Thou in whose life-giving Face all the Universe is manifest,
And O Thou whose Countenance is apparent in the Mirror of the
Universe!
Since the Darling of Thy Beauty looked in the Mirror
And saw the reflection of his face, he became wild and mad [with
love].
Every instant Thy Countenance displays the beauty of its features
To its own eyes, in a hundred fair vestments.
It looked forth from lovers' eyes
So that it beheld Its Beauty in the faces of Idols. ^335a
Thy Face wrought a Mirror for Its self-display,
And called that Mirror ‘Adam and Eve.’
He beheld the Beauty of His Face in every face through him, ^335b
Therefore hath he ^335c become the Mirror of all the Names.
O Thou whose Beauty hath shone forth to Thine own eyes,
And who hast plainly seen Thy Face in Thine own eyes,
Since Thou art at once the Seer and the Seen, there is none other
than Thee:
Wherefore, then, hath all this strife become apparent?
O Maghribí, the horizons are filled with clamour
When my King of Beauty pitches His tent in the Plain!”

“O Centre and Pivot of Being, and Circumference of Bounty,
O Fixed as the Pole, and Fickle as the Sphere!
If I send greetings to Thee, Thou art the greeting,
And if I invoke blessings on Thee, Thou art the blessing!
How can any one give Thee to Thyself? Tell me now,
O Thou who art Thine own alms-giver and Thine own alms!
O Most Comprehensive of Manifestations, and Most Perfect in
Manifestation,
O Gulf of gulfs, and O Combiner of diversities!
O most Beauteous of the beautiful, and O most Fair of the fair,
O most Gracious of the graceful, O most Subtle of subtleties!
Thou art at once both the Bane and the Balm, both Sorrow and Joy,
Both Lock and Key, both Prison and Deliverance!

Thou art both the Treasure and the Talisman, both Body and Soul,
Both Name and Named, both Essence and Attribute!
Thou art both Western (Maghribí) and West, both Eastern and East,
Alike Throne, and Carpet, and Element, and Heavens, and Space!”

“O [Thou who art] hidden from both worlds, who is He who is
apparent?
And O [Thou who art] the Essence of the Apparent, who then is the
Hidden One?
Who is that One who in a hundred thousand forms
Is apparent every moment?
And who is that One who in a hundred thousand effulgences
Showeth forth His Beauty every moment?
Thou sayest, ‘I am hidden from the Two Worlds’:
Who then is He who appeareth in each and all?
Thou didst say, ‘I am always silent’:
Who then is He who speaketh in every tongue?
Thou didst say, ‘I stand outside body and soul’:
Who then is He who clothes himself in the garment of body and
soul?
Thou didst say, ‘I am neither this one nor that one’:
Who then is He who is both this one and that one?
O Thou who hast withdrawn apart,
I conjure Thee by God tell me who is in the midst?
Who is He whose effulgence shines forth
From the beauty and comeliness of the charmers of hearts?
And who is He who hath shown His beauty
And who hath cast turmoil into the world?
O thou who remainest in doubt,
Not knowing certainly who lurks in thy doubt,
Be hidden from the eyes of Maghribí,
And see who is apparent through his eyes!”

The opening lines of the following poem strike an almost Christian note:

“That One who was hidden from us came and became us,
And He who was of us and you became us and you.
The King of the topmost throne of Sovereignty condescended,
And, notwithstanding that there is no King save Him, became a
beggar.
He who is exempted from poverty and wealth
Came in the garb of poverty in order to show forth [true] riches.
Who hath ever heard aught stranger than this, that one and the same
person
Became both his own house and his own householder?
That pure substance and that peerless pearl
When it germinated became earth and heaven.
Into the raiment of ‘how-ness’ and ‘why-ness’ one cannot say
How and why that ‘how-less’ and ‘why-less’ Charmer of hearts
entered.
His eyebrow revealed itself from the eyebrows of the beautiful,
Until it was pointed at by every finger, like the new moon.
In the garden of the Universe, like the straight cypress and the
anemone,
He became both red-capped and green-robed.
That Sun of the Eternal Sphere shone forth
So that it became Western (Maghribí) and Eastern, Sun and Light.”

“Ask not the road to the College or the customs of the Monastery;
Pass by road and custom; ask not about way and road.
Adopt the path of [religious] Poverty and Annihilation, and be happy;
Look not behind thee, and ask not save of what lies before.
When thou steppest forth from the narrow cell of the body
Ask not save of the Holy Precincts and of the King.
Ask about the delights of Poverty and Annihilation from those who
have tasted them;
Ask not of him who is the slave of wealth and rank.

When the Royal Umbrella appears, acclamation arises:
Ask no longer then about the King from the army and the host!
When thou hast stepped forth in sincerity and staked thy head,
Ask not of thy cap, if they steal it of thee.
Since my state, O Friend, is not hidden from thee
Do not again enquire of my state from witnesses.
Wipe out the sin of his existence, since thou thyself art obliterated;
Do not again ask of sin concerning the sin of his existence!
O Friend, since Maghribí hath come to Thee to make his excuses
Overlook in Thy Grace, and ask not concerning the sin of him who
apologizes!”

“We have escaped from the Monastery, the Chapel and the College,
And have settled in the quarter of the Magians with Wine and the
Beloved.
We have cast aside the prayer-mat and the rosary,
We have girt ourselves with the pagan girdle ^342a in the service of the
Christian child.
On the benches [of the Wine-house] we have torn up the dervish-
cloak of hypocrisy;
In the taverns we have broken our hypocritical repentance.
We have escaped from counting the beads of the rosary;
We have sprung forth from the snares of virtue, piety and asceticism.
In the quarter of the Magians we became annihilated from all exist-
ence:
Having become annihilated from all existence, we have become all
existence.
Hereafter seek not from us any knowledge or culture,
O wise and sensible friend, for we are lovers and intoxicated!
Thanks be to God that from this worship of self
We are wholly delivered, and are now worshippers of wine.
We are drunkards, wastrels, seekers of wine,
And we are most at ease with him who is, like ourselves, drunk and
ruined.
Since Maghribí has removed his baggage from our assembly
And has departed (for he was the barrier in our path), we are free!”

“Thou art but a drop: talk not of the depths of the Ocean;
Thou art but a mote: talk not of the high Sun!
Thou art a man of to-day: talk then of to-day;
Do not talk of the day before yesterday and yesterday and to-morrow!
Since thou knowest not earth and heaven
Talk no more of below and above!
Since thou hast not the elements of musical talent
Talk not of taná, ná and táná! ^343a
Cease, O my son, from denial and affirmation;
Talk not of ‘except’ and ‘no’! ^343b
If they bid thee lay down thy life,
Go, lay down thy life, and talk not!
Until thou knowest who ‘I’ and ‘We’ are
Be silent! talk not of ‘I’ and ‘We’!
Until, like Adam, thou receivest from God the Science of the Names
Do not talk about the Names!
He who hath become the Counterpart of all Things
Hath said to Maghribí, ‘Speak not of Things!’”

The above specimens should suffice to give a fair idea of Maghribí's thought and style. He belongs essentially to the same class of mystical poets as Saná'í, Shams-i-Tabríz (i.e. Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí), and 'Iráqí, and, as he asserts, Farí-du'd-Dín 'Aṭṭár:

“From His waves ^344a arose 'Iráqí and Maghribí,
And from His ferment came Saná'í and 'Aṭṭár.”

Yet though of the same category as these, he seldom reaches their level.

Although there are several other poets of this period who are not undeserving of notice, such as 'Aṣṣár of Tabríz,

Of Abú Isḥáq's life, as usual, very little is known, except that he appears to have spent the greater part of it at Shíráz, where he enjoyed the favour of the great, and especially of Tímúr's grandson Iskandar ibn 'Umar Shaykh Mírzá, who governed Fárs and Iṣfahán from A.H. 812 to 817 (A.D. 1409-1415). Dawlatsháh consecrates a long article to him, ^344b which, however, chiefly consists of quotations from his poems and an account of the ambitious designs and tragic fate of his patron Iskandar, who was deprived of his sight by his uncle Sháh-rukh on the 2nd of Jumáda i, 817 (July 20, 1414), and died the following year. By trade Abú Isḥáq was, as his title Ḥalláj indicates, a carder of cotton. On one occasion, when he had been absent for several days from Prince Iskandar's receptions, the latter asked him, when he reappeared, where he had been; to which he replied, “I card cotton for a day, and then spend three days in picking the cotton out of my beard.” Short notices of Abú Isḥáq are given in the Átash-kada, the Haft Iqlím and the Majma'u'l-Fuṣaḥá (vol. ii, p. 10), but they add nothing to the little recorded by Dawlatsháh, save a brief anecdote in the last named, according to which Abú Isḥáq considered himself the Busḥáq and Sháh Ni'matu'lláh of Kirmán disciple and admirer of Sháh Ni'matu'lláh, the mystical poet of Máhán, a little village near Kirmán, where he is still commemorated in a handsome shrine served by dervishes of the order which he founded. Abú Isḥáq's admiration took the dubious form of parodying Ni'matu'lláh's mystical rhapsodies in profane poems addressed to various culinary delicacies. Thus Ni'matu'lláh has a poem quite in the style of Maghribí, beginning:

“We are the pearl of the shoreless Ocean; sometimes we are the Wave
and sometimes the Sea;
We came into the world for this purpose, that we might show God
to His creatures.”

Busḥáq parodied this as follows:

“We are the dough-strings of the bowl of Wisdom; sometimes we are
the dough and sometimes the pie-crust;
We came into the kitchen for this purpose, that we might show the
fried meat to the pastry.”

When subsequently Sayyid Ni'matu'lláh met Abú Isḥáq, he said, “Are you the ‘dough-strings of the bowl of Wisdom’?” To which the latter replied, “Since I am not in a position to talk about God (Alláh), I talk about God's bounty (Ni'matu'lláh).”

Manuscripts of Abú Isḥáq's works are not common. The British Museum possesses a copy of one of them, the Kanzu'l-Ishtihá (“Treasure of Appetite”), ^346a and I once had the opportunity of examining an excellent and very com- Dr Wolf's MS. of the Díwán-i-Aṭ'ima plete manuscript from the collection of the late Dr Wolf of Bukhárá fame, to whom it was given by a certain Ḥájji 'Uthmán Núru'd-Dín, and by whom it was left to the Society for the Propagation of Christianity amongst the Jews. This manuscript was copied in 970/1562-3, contains 162 ff. of 22.4 × 12.7 c. and 17 lines to the page, and is written in a small, neat ta'líq hand between blue and gold lines. It is remarkable for containing (on ff. 137-8 and 160-61) some half dozen poems in dialect, comprising in all 44 couplets. The book,

The poems, filled as they are with the strange and obsolete culinary terminology of mediaeval Persia, and deriving such humour as they possess from being parodies of more serious poems familiar to the author's contemporaries, do not lend themselves to translation. In the Preface to the “Treasure of Appetite” (Kanzu'l-Ishtihá) he claims to have written it to stimulate the failing appetite of a friend, just as Azraqí in earlier times wrote his Alfiyya Shalfiyya to quicken the sexual desires of his royal patron, Ṭughánsháh the Seljúq. ^347a Here is a translation of this Preface, omitting the doxology:

“But to proceed. Thus saith the weakest of the servants of God the All-Provider, Abú Isḥáq, known as the Cotton-carder (Ḥalláj),

‘Whatever verse I may utter, others have uttered it all,
And have penetrated all its domain and territory.’

“For some days my thoughts ran in this channel: ‘having regard to the epic narrative of Firdawsí, the salt of whose speech is the flavouring of the saucepan of every food; and the mathnawís of Niẓámí, the sugar of whose verses is the dainty morsel of sweet-tongued parrots; and the ṭayyibát of Sa'dí, which, by general accord, are like luscious honey to the palate of the congenial; and the odes of Khwája Jamálu'd-Dín Salmán, which take the place of milk and honey in the mouths of philologists; and the products of the genius of Khwájú of Kirmán, the carroway-syrup of whose utterances is a cure for the melancholics of the fetters of verse; and the subtle sayings of 'Imád-i-Faqíh, whose sweet utterances are as fragrant spices and delicious potions; and the fluent phraseology and well-weighed thoughts of Ḥáfiẓ, which are a wine fraught with no headache and a beverage delicious to the taste; and other poets, each of whom was the celebrity of some city and the marvel of some age, what fancies can I concoct whereby men can be made glad?’

“While I was thus meditating, on a favourable morning, when according to my wont and habit, the smoke of an unfeigned appetite rose up from the kitchen of the belly, there suddenly entered through the door my silver-bosomed sweetheart, my moon-faced darling, whose eyes are like almonds, whose lips are like sugar, whose chin is like an orange, whose breasts are like pomegranates, whose mouth is like a pistachio-nut, smooth-tongued, melodious of utterance, lithe as a fish, sweet-voiced, with a mole like musk; even as the poet says:

‘By reason of the sweet smiles of the salt-cellar of her mouth ^348a
Blood flows from the heart, as from a salted kabáb.’

“Said she, ‘I have quite lost my appetite, and suffer from a feeling of satiety; what is the remedy?’ I replied, ‘Just as in the case of that person who went to a physician, complaining that he was impotent, and the physician thereupon composed for him the [book entitled] Alfiyya Shalfiyya, ^349a which when he had perused he at once took to his embraces a virgin girl, so will I compose for thee a treatise on the table, such that when thou hast once read it, thy appetite will return.’ So for her sake I girded up the loins of my soul, and cooked a meal garnished with verbal artifices and rhetorical devices, and baked in the oven of reflection with the dough of deliberation a loaf which rivalled the orb of the sun in its conquest of the world; so that I can proudly exclaim:

‘I have spread a table of verse from Qáf to Qáf: ^349b
Where is a fellow-trencherman who can rival me?’

“I have entitled this table ‘the Treasure of Appetite’ (Kanzu'l-Ishtihá ), because the day was the 'Idu'l-Fiṭr; ^349c and the cause of the revelation of this book is commemorated in the following fragment.” ^349d

The whole poem is divided into ten sections (faṣl), comprises 108 verses with the same rhyme throughout, and is a parody on Sa'dí's qaṣída beginning: ^350a

The first verse of the parody is:

The “Treasure of Appetite” is followed by a qaṣída entitled Áfáq u Anfus (“Horizons and Souls”) in praise of Remaining contents of the Díwán-i-Aṭ'ima Sháh Sayfu'd-Dín, and this in turn by parodies of qaṣídas by Ẓahíru'd-Dín Fáryábí, Khwájú of Kirmán, Najmí, 'Imád-i-Faqíh of Kirmán, Ḥáfiẓ, Salmán of Sáwa, Ḥasan of Dihlí, Mawláná 'Alí Dur-duzd, Sa'dí, Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí, Jalál-i-'Aḍud, Ṣadru'd-Dín Qay-ruwání, Kamál of Khujand, Sa'du'd-Dín Naṣír, Anwarí, Shaykh Farídu'd-Dín 'Aṭṭár, Kamálu'd-Dín of Káshán, Sháh Ni'matu'lláh of Kirmán, Amínu'd-Dín, Muḥammad Jawharí, 'Iráqí, Abú Naṣr-i-Faráhí, Ádharí, 'Ubayd-i-Zákání, Jalál-i-Ṭabíb, Firdawsí, Niẓámí of Ganja, etc. These are followed by the two prose treatises already mentioned, the “Conclusion” (Khátima), the “Glossary” (Farhang), a qaṣída in praise of Kajrí (“Kedgeree”), and the Editor's Vocabulary of Culinary Terms which fills twelve pages.

For the reasons already given it is practically impossible to translate these poems so as to preserve any of their point, and it is sufficient for our purpose to note that Abú Isḥáq, with his predecessor 'Ubayd-i-Zákání (already discussed earlier in this chapter) and his successor Niẓámu'd-Dín Maḥmúd Qárí of Yazd, represents a definite school of satire and parody.

Of the last-named poet, who took for his subject clothes, as Abú Isḥáq had taken foods, we have an excellent edition Niẓámu'd-Dín Maḥmúd Qárí of Yazd by the same Mírzá Ḥabíb who edited the works of the two other poets of the group, all three volumes being uniform in size and style. In the short preface prefixed to the Díwán-i-Albisa, which contains the sartorial poems of Maḥmúd Qárí of Yazd, the learned editor says that he believes the manuscript on which his text is based to be unique, and that he had never met with another copy in any of the numerous libraries in Persia and at Constantinople which he had examined, nor had he found any mention of the author or his date in any biographical or historical work except in one Indian tadhkira (neither named nor cited by him), and a single verse of his cited in evidence in the well-known Persian dictionary entitled Burhán-i-Jámi'.^351a

The Díwán-i-Albisa was avowedly inspired by the Díwán-i-Aṭ'ima, which, in style and arrangement, it closely follows. There is a prose preface, which, unfortunately, throws no light on the author's date; a qaṣída-i-Áfáq u Anfus; a mock-heroic account of the war between cloth and cotton (Jang-náma-i-Mú'ína u Kattán); a poem on the “Mysteries of Silk”; parodies of Awḥadí, Khwájú, Sa'dí,

Although it is not necessary to speak at nearly the same Prose-writers of this period length about the prose-writers of this period as about the poets, some at least of them deserve at any rate a passing mention, including one or two who wrote chiefly or exclusively in Arabic.

Tímúr resembled another great Eastern conqueror of Turkish origin who lived four centuries before him, namely Sulṭán Maḥmúd of Ghazna, in his passion for collecting and carrying off to his capital eminent scholars from the towns which he conquered, and thus endeavouring to increase the splendour of his Court and his own reputation as a patron of letters. ^353a Amongst those whom Tímúr thus abducted the most celebrated were Sa'du'd-Dín Taftázání and as-Sayyid ash-Sharíf al-Jurjání.^353b

This eminent scholar, who was described by the con- Sa'du'd-Dín at-Taftázání temporary 'ulamá of Transoxiana as “at the present time the chief man of learning in the world, and the exemplar of scholars amongst the sons of men,” and of whose works sixteen are enumerated by Brockelmann, ^354a was born at Taftázán near Nasá in Khu-rásán in 722/1322, and is said to have written his first book (a commentary on az-Zanjání's Arabic Grammar) at the early age of sixteen. Another of his works, the Muṭawwal, he is said to have dedicated to Malik Mu'izzu'd-Dín Ḥusayn-i-Kurt (who reigned at Herát from A.D. 1331 to 1370). He then settled at Khwárazm, at that time a great centre of learning, where he composed his Mukhtaṣar, which he dedicated to Jání Beg Khán of the Golden Horde, a descendant of Bátú the Mongol, who reigned in Western Qipcháq from A.D. 1340 to 1357. When Tímúr captured Khwárazm he allowed Malik Muḥammad of Sarakhs, the youngest son of the above mentioned Malik Mu'izzu'd-Dín, to take Taftázání with him to Sarakhs, where he was given a professorship; but later, learning how great was his reputation as a scholar, he summoned him to his own capital Samarqand, where he remained for some years, greatly honoured by all. He died in 791/1389 (in the same year as the poet Ḥáfiẓ), or, according to others, in 797/1394-5, ^354b and was buried at Sarakhs. He left a son named Mawláná Muḥammad who died of the plague at Herát in 838/1434-5, and concerning whom an anecdote is related in the Ḥabíbu's-Siyar which reflects but little credit either on his filial piety or his sincerity.

Of Taftázání's works it is unnecessary to speak in detail, for not only are they written in Arabic, but they do not even fall into the category of belles lettres, being for the most part on logic, Arabic grammar, philosophy, theology, exegesis and jurisprudence. I am not aware that he wrote anything in Persian, but, by virtue of a Turkish metrical translation of Sa'dí's Bústán which he composed, he is included by the late Mr E. J. W. Gibb in his History of Ottoman Poetry.^354c

As-Sayyid ash-Sharíf, chiefly known to European As-Sayyid ash-Sharíf al-Jurjání scholars by his book of “Definitions” (ta'rífát) of technical and especially Ṣúfí terms, was born, as his title al-Jurjání indicates, in the Caspian province of Gurgán or Jurján, near Astarábád, in 740/1339. In 779/1377 he was presented by Sa'du'd-Dín Taftázání to the Muẓaffarí prince Sháh Shujá' who was then residing at Qaṣr-i-Zard, and who took him with himself to Shíráz, where he became a professor at the Dáru'sh-Shifá. In 789/1387 Tímúr conquered Shíráz and transported him to Samarqand, where he again foregathered with Taftázání, with whom he had many scientific controversies. On the death of Tímúr in 807/1405 he returned to Shíráz, where he died in 816/1413 at the age of 76. Brockelmann enumerates 31 of his works, all of which are in Arabic. ^355a Three Persian works, a wellknown Arabic grammar commonly known as Ṣarf-i-Mír, a treatise on Logic (al-Kubrá fi'l-Manṭiq), and another on the Degrees of Existence, written by or ascribed to him, are mentioned in Rieu's Persian Catalogue, ^355b but he seems to have composed but little in his mother-tongue.

A third but much younger writer of note who was carried Ibn 'Arabsháh off by Tímúr from his native place, Damascus, in 803/1400, when he was only twelve years of age, together with his mother and brothers, was Abu'l-'Abbás Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad ibn 'Abdu'lláh ibn 'Arabsháh, chiefly famous for the bitterly hostile biography of Tímúr which he composed under the title of 'Ajá'ibu'l-Maqdúr fí nawá'ibi Tímúr, and to which reference has been made in the last chapter. ^355c He studied at Samarqand with the abovementioned al-Jurjání, mastered the Turkish and Persian languages, translated from the latter into Arabic the Mar-zubán-náma of Sa'du'd-Dín Waráwíní, ^356a travelled widely, visiting Khaṭá (Chinese Tartary), Khwárazm, Dasht, Astrachan and Adrianople (where he became for a time private secretary to the Ottoman Sulṭán Muḥammad I). He returned to his native town, Damascus, in 825/1422, made the pilgrimage to Mecca seven years later, settled in Cairo in 840/1436, and died in 854/1450. The undisguised hatred of Tímúr revealed in every page of his history forms a piquant contrast to the fulsome flattery of Sharafu'd-Dín 'Alí Yazdí and other Persian biographers. Of Ibn 'Arab-sháh's other works the best known is the Fákihatu'l-Khulafá.

Of Arabic writers of this period who had no connection with Persia, such as al-Yáfi'í and aṣ-Ṣafadí, to both of whom we are indebted for valuable biographical and historical material, I do not propose to speak here, but two other Arabic-writing Persians deserve at least a brief mention.

Another Persian man of learning who met and received Al-Fírúzábádí favours from Tímúr was the great Arabic scholar and lexicographer, best known by his monumental dictionary the Qámús, or “Ocean,” Abu'ṭ-Ṭáhir Muḥammad ibn Ya'qúb ash-Shírází al-Fírúzábádí. ^357b He was born in 729/1326 at Fírúzábád in Fárs, and studied His extensive travels first at Shíráz, then at Wásiṭ in Mesopotamia, then at Baghdád (745/1344), and afterwards (750/1349-1350) at Damascus, where he attended the lectures of as-Subkí, whom he accompanied to Jerusalem. There he lectured for some ten years, after which he set out again on his travels, in the course of which he visited Asia Minor, Cairo, Mecca (770/1368), where he remained fifteen years, and India, where he spent five years in Dihlí. He then returned to Mecca, where he spent another ten years. In 794/1392 he visited the court of the Jalá'ir Sulṭán Aḥmad ibn Uways at Baghdád; and he also visited Tímúr at Shíráz, probably in 795/1393, and was received with much honour. Thence he went by way of Hurmuz on His high position in Yaman the Persian Gulf to Yaman, where he arrived in the following year (796/1394), and remained at Ta'izz for fourteen months. He was then made Chief Judge (Qáḍi'l-quḍát) of Yaman, and received in marriage the daughter of the Sulṭán al-Malik al-Ashraf. In 802/1400 he again visited Mecca, where he established a small college of Máliki jurisprudence: and, after visiting al-Madína, returned to Zabíd in Yaman, and died there in 817/1414.

Of the five Arabic writers mentioned above all save Ibn 'Arabsháh (who is included on account of his connection with Tímúr) were Persians; and, for reasons which I have elsewhere given, ^358a I consider that no literary history of the Persians which, confining itself to what is written in Persian, ignores the immense amount of valuable work produced by Persians in Arabic, can be regarded as adequate in its scope, or just to this talented people.

The period which we are now considering is far less rich in notable prose-writers than in poets, and not more than four or five need detain us here.

The first writer who deserves mention is Shams-i-Fakhrí,

Part i, in 9 chapters, on Poetry and Prosody.

Part ii, in 5 chapters, on Rhyme, the different varieties of Poetry, etc.

Part iii, on Rhetorical Devices, Tropes and Figures of Speech, etc.

Part iv, on the Persian language and its rare and archaic words.

The fourth part, which is of most interest to philologists, was printed at Kazan in 1885 by Carl Salemann. I possess a good MS. of the whole work (except for one leaf missing at the beginning) which was given to me by my friend Dr Riẓá Tevfíq in August, 1909. The date of composition is given in a poem of 11 bayts in praise of “the son of Maḥmúd Sháh” (i.e. Shaykh Abú Isḥaq Ínjú) in the following lines:

The rare Persian words explained in this fourth part are arranged under the final letter, and each group is worked up into a qaṣída, of which they constitute the rhymes, in praise of the author's royal patron. The first three (unpublished) parts of the book, though good, are relatively of less value than the fourth, since the matters of which they treat are more fully discussed in such older books as the Mu'jam fí Ma'áyíri Ash'ári'l-'Ajam ^359a of Shams-i-Qays, and the Ḥadá'iqu's-Siḥr of Rashídu'd-Dín Waṭwáṭ.

Nearly all that is known of this writer is recorded by Mu'ínu'd-Dín Yazdí's history of the House of Muẓaffar Rieu ^359b in his notice of one of the British Museum MSS. of the Mawáhib-i-Iláhí, a historical monograph on the House of Muẓaffar from its origin until the battle fought at Shíráz in 767/1365-6 between Sháh Shujá' and his brother and rival Sháh Maḥ-múd. Mu'ínu'd-Dín is described by his fellow-townsman Mufíd in the Jámi'-i-Mufídí (composed in 1082-1090/1671-79) ^360a as the greatest of the 'ulamá of his day. His lectures were crowded with students, and occasionally honoured by the presence of his patron Sháh Shujá' the Muẓaffarí, at whose instigation and encouragement, seconded by that of his father Mubárizu'd-Dín Muḥammad, Mu'ín began the composition of his history at Iṣfahán in 757/1356, though, as indicated above, he did not complete it until ten years later. Two years earlier, in 755/1354, according to the abstract of his history included in some manuscripts of the Ta'ríkh-i-Guzída, ^360b he was made professor at a college at Kirmán. He died in 789/1387.

The Mawáhib-i-Iláhí, of which I possess two MSS. from the late Sir A. Houtum-Schindler's library, ^360c besides having access to a manuscript belonging to the Fitzwilliam Museum at Cambridge, is a disappointing book, written, as Rieu justly remarks, like the History of Waṣṣáf, mainly “with a view to rhetorical display.” It is in fact intolerably florid and bombastic, a fault which we might more readily excuse but for the undoubted value of the information which it contains. Happily the simplified abstract of its contents mentioned at the end of the last paragraph dispenses us in large measure from the necessity of reading it in its unabridged form.

This author, a grandson of the famous Shaykh Zarkúb of Shíráz, deserves mention on account of a monograph on The Shíráznáma his native town, entitled Shíráz-náma, which he composed in 744/1343-4, and which is described by Rieu. ^360d Manuscripts of this work, which has never been published, are rare; and it is a matter of regret that the author has devoted his attention in the biographical portion of the work so much more to Shaykhs and holy men than to poets.

This writer, called Shamb-i-Gházání after a mausoleum erected for his own sepulture by the Mongol Gházán Khán Niẓám-i-Shámí, the earliest Persian historian of Tímúr two miles to the S.W. of Tabríz, is notable as the author of the only known history of Tímúr compiled during his life-time. This history, entitled, like the later and much more celebrated book of Sharafu'd-Dín 'Alí of Yazd, Ẓafar-náma (“The Book of Victory”), is extremely scarce, the only manuscript which I know of being the British Museum codex (Add. 23,980), of which I possess a copy made for me by my friend Dr Aḥmad Khán. Our knowledge of Niẓám-i-Shámí is chiefly derived from incidental remarks occurring in his history, some of which are copied by his successor Shara-fu'd-Dín 'Alí, 'Abdu'r-Razzáq (in the Maṭla'u's-Sa'dayn), Mírkhwánd and Khwándamír. Rieu has admirably summarized all that is known about this author. ^361a He was living at Baghdád when it was conquered by Tímúr in 795/1392-3, and was amongst the first who came out to do homage to the conqueror, by whom he was graciously received; and he describes the impression made on him by the Tartar attack. In 803/1400-1 he was detained as a prisoner at Aleppo, and describes an attack on the citadel of which he was a witness. In 804/1401-2 Tímúr summoned him to his presence and ordered him to write the history of his reign and his conquests, placing at his disposal the necessary records, memoranda and official papers, ^361b and bidding him especially avoid bombast and rhetoric, and write in a simple and straightforward style which ordinary people could understand. In 806/1403-4 he preached a homily before Tímúr in his camp near Ardabíl on the occasion of the 'Íd or Festival at the end of the Ramaḍán fast (April 12, 1404). Soon afterwards Tímúr set out for his capital Samarqand, and allowed Niẓám-i-Shámí to return “home” (apparently to Tabríz), furnishing him with letters of recommendation to his grandson Prince 'Umar Bahádur, son of Mírán-sháh, who had just been appointed Governor of Persia; a post which he held until 808/1405-6, when he was dispossessed by his brother Prince Abú Bakr.

It does not appear that the history was continued beyond the year 806/1404, when Tímúr, having enjoyed a brief period of repose after his last Georgian campaign, set out on his last return journey to his capital Samarqand, which he quitted on December 28, 1404, on his projected campaign against China. This campaign was rendered abortive by Tímúr's death on March 19, 1405. Particulars of the last The later Ẓafar-náma of Sharafu'd-Dín 'Alí Yazdí year of his life, therefore, are not included in Niẓám-i-Shámí's work, but must be sought for in the homonymous Ẓafar-náma of Sharafu'd-Dín 'Alí Yazdí, who wrote in 828/1424-5 and died thirty years later. Although he strictly belongs, therefore, to the period which will be discussed in the next chapter, it will be more convenient to consider him here in connection with the author of the original Ẓafar-náma, of which his later Ẓafar-náma is essentially a more florid and verbose enlargement, garnished with many more verses, and increased in bulk by about fifty per cent.

All that is known about this historian, either from his own statements or from such books as the Jámi'-i-Mufídí, Maṭla'u's-Sa'dayn, Haft Iqlím, Ta'ríkh-i-Rashídí, Ḥabíbu's-Siyar , ^362a Laṭá'if-náma, and Dawlatsháh's “Memoirs of the Poets,” ^363a is, as usual, admirably summarized by Rieu. ^363b It is as a poet writing under the nom de guerre of Sharaf, and with a special skill in versifying riddles and acrostics (mu'ammá) that he is mentioned by Dawlatsháh, who also speaks in terms of exaggerated praise of his history of Tímúr, the Ẓafar-náma, on which his fame chiefly rests, though its style is intolerably inflated and bombastic, and its facts—in spite of the author's implication that he collected them from original documents and orally from old men who had taken part in the events described—appear to have been mostly borrowed with little or no acknowledgement from his predecessor Niẓám-i-Shámí, to whom he is even indebted for many of his citations from the Qur'án and from the poets. His work, however, has entirely eclipsed that of his predecessor. It has been published at Calcutta in the Bibliotheca Indica Series in two volumes (1887-8), and translated into French by Petis de la Croix (1722) and from the French into English by J. Darby (1723). The author of the Haft Iqlím calls Sharafu'd-Dín “the noblest of the scholars of Persia in his time, and the subtlest of the doctors of that period; luminous in exposition, sharp-tongued, conspicuous in merit, the illuminator of every assembly, the adorner of every company”; and, in speaking of his Ẓafar-náma, says that “no book so elegant has ever been written in Persian on the science of history.” He adds that it was composed in 828/1424-5, a date expressed by the chronogram (“It was composed Other works by Sharafu'd-Dín 'Alí of Yazd in Shíráz”), and that the author also wrote a treatise on riddles and acrostics; a commentary on the celebrated Arabic poem in praise of the Prophet entitled al-Burda (“The Mantle”) by al-Búṣírí; a book on magical squares and lucky numbers, entitled Kunhu'l-Murád dar 'Ilm-i-Wafq-i-A'dád; and a number of odes, quatrains and mathnawí poems, of which he gives only one short specimen.