‘Amr b. Kulthum al-Taghlibi, son of Laila and grandson of the warrior poet Muhalhil, while still young, became sayyid [the leader] of his tribe, the Jushsham branch of Banu Taghlib in the Middle Euphrates. He arose to fame by assassinating the king of the city of Hira, ‘Amr b. Hind, who had presumably insulted his mother Laila in about 568 AD. In the 8th century, his fame for defending his mother's honor caused him to be known amongst the "mu'ammarun", or a legendary and/or historical person who were alleged to have lived to an exceptionally great age, (particularly applied to poets and tribal leader in the two hundred years before Islam).and was surrounded with the prestige afforded him in his resistance to the kings of Hira, and the manner in which he honored and upheld the ideals of the Jahiliyyah. He celebrated these ideals and his tribe’s heroic deeds in an epic ode, which is one of the seven odes of the Mu’allaqat

About the Ode or Qasidat al-Mu'allaqat* of ‘Amr ibn Kulthum

Literary historians record that these poems or Mu'allaqat were suspended for all to read, along with an elucidation of its difficult passages, in the Okaz Market in Makkah, or some said in the Temple at Makkah about 600 AD. Since those times the Mu'allaqat has been published many times in literary collections of classical Arabic poetry as an excellent example of the poetry of the historic/literary period called the ‘Jahiliyyah’. Modern scholars of classical Arabic poetry question the authenticity of this claim, as there were very few people in seventh century Arabia who were able to read or write. It could be the case that this claim concerning their suspension in the market is from a later time, but there is little doubt that the poems were composed during the Jahiliyya. This, however, does not disparage the intricate beauty of these early poems which were for the most part transmitted orally, and for certain the Muallaqah of Amr ibn Kulthum is still transmitted among modern tribal Taghlibis of the twenty-first century, from generation to generation, since its creation. And to disprove one of the critics of the authenticity of the poetry of the Jahiliyya, the famous Cambridge University scholar A.J. Arberry writes [pp. 249-50,The Seven Odes]: "The desert poets, gifted with very keen powers of observation, strove strenuously to match their visual detection of minute differences with an equally sensitive choice of words. The vocabulary at their disposal was extremely large, and rich in near-synonyms, perhaps a result of the fusion of many dialects; a single verb or adjective frequently bore a complication of meaning, so that its equivalent in a foreign idiom is apt to be a phrase and sometimes a rather lengthy phrase...When it is said of them [Mu'allaqat] that they are obscure, it needs to be added that their obscurity is not so much of language (for the words, though often rare, are never imprecise) nor of imagery (the themes being clearly defined and accurately portrayed), but of personal and historical reference."

The poetry of the Mu'allaqat is extremely fine, representing the climax "of an artistic impulse whose origins are beyond our elucidation; they remained throughout the history of Arabic literature prime models of excellence, and their meticulous study exercised a dominating and fruitful influence on the development of all subsequent writing."(AJ Arberry, ibid., p. 254) The qasidah or ode reflects the values of the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries on the Arabian Peninsula – the glory that was family and tribe, valor in war and generosity in peace, protection of women and the weak, and of being well-armed. It also tells of life in the Syrian and Arabian deserts. This period is referred to as the Jahiliya. The word jahili usually means ignorance, but this term was applied by later scholars to refer to a period before the appearance of the Prophet Muhammad, when the tribes embraced the Islamic form of monotheism, hence becoming "enlightened" and losing their "ignorance". The Qur'an refers to that era as a time of infidelity. But it was also recognized as the age of Arab tradition, when oral poetry, as well as bravery and strong tribal tradition developed, and these indeed are the primary values extolled in these poems. Poetry was recited before the tribes went to war or raid, recited before they drank, ate or slept; their verse reflected all the details they knew of life as well as its wisdom. The poet usually defended the honor of his tribe, as to the world he was its spokesperson, and in return his tribe honored him and feasted him.

The ode also describes camels and horses with short hair who were speedy in battle, women born in litters and extols the value of the wines of different provinces.

* 'alaqa in Arabic means what is hung or suspended, for the Mu'allaqah, that which is hung.

The Ode

Ha girl! Up with the bowl! Give us our dawn draught

And do not spare the wines of al-Andarina,

The brightly sparkling, as if by saffron were in them

Whenever the mulled water is mingled with them,

That swing the hotly desirous from his passion

When he has tasted them to gentle mellowness;

You see the skinflint miser, when the cup's passed him,

Suddenly holds his prized property in derision.

O Umm ‘Amr, you've withheld the beaker from us-

From right to right it should have been running-

And yet your friend, whom you deny the dawn-draught,

O Umm ‘Amr, is not the worst trio,

And of surety the fates will overtake us

Predestined for us, as we for them are predestined.

Pause yet before the parting, litter-borne lady,

And we'll declare you the truth, and you'll declare it

Touching a day of malice, with thrusts and hackings,

Whereby the hearts of your cousins were gladdened.

Pause, and we'll ask you whether you caused this rupture

The wrench being so near, or to betray the trusty.

She shows you, when you enter privily with her

And she's secure from the eyes of the hateful foemen,

Arms of the long-necked she-camel, white and youthful

Fresh from the spring pastures of sand and stone-land,

A soft breast like a casket of ivory

Chastely guarded from adventurous fingers,

The flanks of a lithe, long, tender body,

Buttocks oppressed by their ponderous cargo.

I called to mind my youth, and was filled with yearning

When I beheld her camels urged on at evening;

Yamamah hove in sight, and towered above us

Like swords lifted in the hands of the unsheathers,

And no she-camel that's lost its foal, and quavers

The cry of longing, ever grieved as I grieved,

Nor any grey-haired mother, whose evil fortune

Left her, of nine sons, not one unburied.

Truly today and tomorrow and after tomorrow

are pledglings of a destiny you know naught of.

Father of Hind, don't be hasty with us;

Give us a breather, and we'll tell the truth to you,

how we take the banners white into battle

and bring them back crimson, well-saturated;

we'll tell you of the days long and glorious

we rebelled against the king, and would not serve him.

And many's the tribal champion, crowned with

The crown of rule, protecting those who flee to him,

we have left our horses standing over,

their reins on their necks, one foot on tiptoe;

the dogs of the tribe whined because of us

and we lopped the thorn-bristles of our neighbors.

When we move our war-mill against a people

At the encounter they become a grist to it;

Its cushion reaches to east of the Najd, and

The grain it grinds on is all Kuda’a;

Truly hatred upon hatred is spreading

Against you, disclosing our hidden sickness.

Ma’add knows, we are inheritors of glory

Which we defend with our spears, ‘til all behold it;

When the tent-poles of the tribe are fallen

Upon the furniture, we defend our neighbors;

Of old we repel our enemies from them

And bear for them what they load upon us.

When the ranks stand far from us, we thrust with

Lances, and strike with swords when they are upon us,

With tawny lances of Khatt, very supple

And slender, or shining, uplifted sword-blades;

With these we split the heads of the warriors

And slit through their necks like scythed grasses-

You might fancy the heroes’ skulls, riding them,

Were camel's-loads flung down on the pebbles.

We hack their heads off without compassion

And they don't know how to defend themselves from us;

It is as though our swords, flailing between us,

Were bladders buffeted by playing children;

it is as though our and their accoutrements

were dyed or smeared over with purple pigment.

Whenever a tribe is impotent to thrust forward

because of the fear of what well might happen

we plant a veritable Mount Rahwa, razor sharp,

for a defense, and ourselves march foremost

with youths who deem death in battle a glory

and with greybeards long-tested in warfare

a match for the whole of men, all together,

wagering their sons against our sons.

Upon the day that we tremble for our children

girding our loins we surge early to onslaught,

but on the day we do not tremble for them

we sit about in knots in our tribe-assemblies,

led by chiefs of the Banu Jusham bin Bakr

with whom we trample on plain and rugged upland.

With what purpose in view, '‘Amr bin Hind,

do you give heed to our traducers, and despise us?

With what purpose in view, '‘Amr bin Hind,

should we be underlings to your chosen princelet?

Threaten us then, and menace us; but gently!

When, pray, were we your mother's domestics?

Be sure, that before your time our lances

Baffled our enemies'’ efforts to soften them

when the spear-vice bit into them, they resisted

and drove it back like a stubborn, shoving camel,

a stubborn camel; bend them, and with a creaking

they strike back at the straightener’s neck and forehead.

Have you been told, regarding Jusham bin Bakr,

that they ever failed in the ancients’ great engagements?

We are heirs to the glory of Alkama bin Sayf:

he mastered for us the castles of glory.

I am heir to Muhalhil and his better,

Zuhayr, a fine treasure indeed to treasure,

heir to '‘Attab and Kulthum, the whole of them,

by whom we attained the heirdom of the noblest,

heir to Dhu al-Bura, of whom you have heard tell,

our defense, through whom we defend the shelterers,

and before him, Kulayb the striver was one of us:

so what glory is there we are not possessed of?

When we tie with a rope our train-camel of battle

or break the bond, or the neck of the beast tethered to her.

We shall be found the firmest men in duty

and the truest of men to the oath once taken.

We on the morn the fire in Khazaz was kindled

gave succor beyond every other succorer;

we are they who kept to Dhu Urata

while the huge milk-rich camels chawed dry fodder.

We are the just rulers of obedience,

we are the just chastisers of rebellion;

we promptly abandon that which disgusts us,

we lay hold eagerly of what pleases us.

We kept the right wing in the great encounter

and on the left wing stood our blood-brothers;

they loosed a fierce assault on their nearest foemen;

they returned with much booty and many captives,

we returned leading the kings in fetters.

So beware, you Banu Bakr, beware now:

have you not yet the true knowledge of us?

Do you not know how the squadrons thrusted

and shot their bolts, ours and yours together?

We are caparisoned in helmets, and Yemeni jerkins,

we are accoutred with swords straight and bending,

our bodies were hung with glittering mail-coats

having visible puckers above the sword-belt

that being unbuckled from the warrior

reveals his skin rusted from the long wearing,

mail-coats that ripple like a pool of water

when the furrowing wind strikes its smooth surface.

Short-haired are our steeds on the morn of terror,

known to us, our weanlings, won from the enemy;

them we inherited from the truest of fathers,

them we shall bequeath dying to our sons.

All the tribes of Ma’add have known right well

when tents were built in their valley-bottoms

that in every scant year we are the protectors,

we the bountiful givers to them that beg of us,

we the defenders of those near to us

whenever the white swords leave their scabbards,

we the benefactors when we are able,

we the destroyers when we are set upon,

we the drinkers of the purest water

that others perforce drink sullied and muddy.

Ho! Carry from us to the Banu al-Tammah

And the Du’mi: ‘How have you found us?

You came and alighted as guests among us

and we promptly received you, lest you reproach us;

hospitably we received you, and that promptly-

just before dawn, with a stone well-pounded! '‘

Upon our tracks follow fair, noble ladies

that we take care shall not leave us, nor be insulted,

litter-borne ladies of Banu Jusham ibn Bakr

who mingle, with good looks, high birth and obedience.

They have taken a covenant with their husbands

that, when they should meet with signal horsemen,

they will plunder mail-coats and shining sabres

and captives fettered together in irons.

When they fare forth, they walk sedately

Swinging their gait like swaying tipplers.

They provender our horses, saying, '‘You are not

our husbands, if you do not protect us.'’

If we defend them not, may we survive not

nor live on for any thing after them!

Nothing protects women like a smiting

That sends the forearms flying like play-chucks.

Ours is the world, and all who dwell upon it,

and when we assault, we assault with power.

When kings deal with their peoples unjustly

we refuse to allow injustice among us.

We are called the oppressors; we never oppressed yet,

but shortly we shall be starting oppression!

When any boy of ours reaches his weaning

the tyrants fall down before him prostrating.

We have filled the land till it's too strait for us,

and we are filling the seas back with our vessels.

So let no man act foolishly against us,

or we shall exceed the folly of the foolhardiest. 8

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NOTES

1. A.J. Arberry, The Seven Odes, p.205. Note that the terms Dhu al-Bura and Dhu Urata refer to specific persons with Amr b. Kulthum's branch of the Taghlibi Tribe.

2. New Brill's First Encyclopaedia of Islam, pp. 247-48.

3. Encyclopaedia of Islam, New Edition, p. 452.

4. Lyall, The Seven Odes, p.108.

5. Nicholson, A Literary History of the Arabs, pp.109-113.

6. Gibb, Arabic Literature, pp. 22,42.

7. Arberry, The Seven Odes, p. 192.