Abu Nuwas
Abu Nuwas
Abu Nuwas was a classical Arabic poet, and the foremost representative of the modern (muhdath) poetry that developed during the first years of the Abbasid Caliphate. He also entered the folkloric tradition, appearing several times in One Thousand and One Nights.
"In an ebullient exchange with the Baghdadi singing-girl ‘Inan he wrote: "Gorgeous one! – God has made your face a qibla for me, /So allow me to pray toward your face, and lets have a kiss." Here "kiss" (qubla) and "the direction of prayer" (qibla) are made to rhyme, an almost inevitable rhyming couplet."
"ألا فاسقِني خمراً، وقل لي: هيَ الخمرُ ولا تسقني سرّاً إذا أمكن الجهرُ"
"Say, then, to whom affects learning in philosophy Knowing one thing doesn’t comprise an education Don’t forbid others what you choose to eschew For prohibition is, in religion, desecration"
"Auspicious stars had risen on this night When drunkard assaulted drunkard We passed the time kowtowing to the Devil, Until the monks sounded the bells at dawn And [a young adolescent] left, dragging delightful robes Which I had stained with my iniquitous behavior, Saying, "O woe!" as tears overcame him, "You have torn away the [dignity] I had preserved." I replied, "A lion saw a gazelle and lunged at it; Such is the variety of Fate’s vicissitudes!"
"There are no poems on wine equal to my own, and to my amatory compositions all others must yield."
"Poured from the palm of a girl dressed as boy An intrigue for one of any orientation She lifts the carafe against the black night Her face lit with brilliant radiation Sending from the jug’s lip a stream so bright That eyes, in its glare, close as in sedation Wine so fine, so pure and delicate To add water would be contamination With light alone may it be mixed Giving off dazzling illumination"
"O Lord, even though I have committed many sins I understand that Your forgiveness... is far greater! If only those who’re pure can hope for Your mercy: whom else can one be seeking help, for the sinner? Lord, I’m humbly asking You, like You told me to: who will pity me if of my hand, You’re not a taker? There is no other way I have to You, but the hope that as a Muslim You will be You... the Forgiver!"
"He played with sacred formulae, such as the call to prayer: "Come to prayer!" is rendered, in one profane turn, "Come to sleep-together!"
"The following complaint sets perhaps the smuttiest tone about the poet’s detainment: "al-Amin, I languish in the sodomites prison and fear being buggered. Do you wish them to bugger your very own poet?"
