- Middle Period: the rise of Persian and Turkish poetry
Middle Period: the rise of Persian and Turkish poetry
- Key People:
- Owen Jones
- Abū al-Faraj al-Iṣbahānī
- Related Topics:
- the arts
- Islamic architecture
- Islamic literature
The new Persian style
During the Abbasid period the Persian influence upon Arabic literature had grown considerably. At the same time, a distinct Modern Persian literature came into existence in northeastern Iran, where the house of the Samanids of Bukhara and Samarkand had revived the memory of Sasanian glories. The first famous representative of this new literature was the poet Rūdakī (died 940/941), of whose qaṣīdahs only a few have survived. He also worked on a Persian version of Kalīlah wa Dimnah, however, and on a version of the Sendbād-nāmeh (“The Book of Sendbād [Sindbad]”). Rūdakī’s poetry, modeled on the Arabic rules of prosody that without exception had been applied to Persian, already points ahead to many of the characteristic features of later Persian poetry. The imagery in particular is sophisticated, although when compared with the mannered writing of subsequent times his verse was considered sadly simple. From the 10th century onward Persian poems were written at almost every court in the Iranian areas, sometimes in dialectical variants (for example, in Ṭabarestāni dialect at the Zeyārid court). In many cases the poets were bilingual, excelling in both Arabic and Persian (a gift shared by many non-Arab writers up to the 19th century).
Influence of Maḥmūd of Ghazna
The first important centre of Persian literature existed at Ghazna (present-day Ghaznī, Afghanistan), at the court of Maḥmūd of Ghazna (died 1030) and his successors, who eventually extended their empire to northwestern India. Himself an orthodox warrior, Maḥmūd in later love poetry was transformed into a symbol of “a slave of his slave” because of his love for a Turkmen officer, Ayāz. Under the Ghaznavids, lyric and epic poetry both developed, as did the panegyric. Classical Iranian topics became the themes of poetry, resulting in such diverse works as the love story of Vāmeq and ʿAzrā (possibly of Greek origin) and the Shāh-nāmeh (see below). A number of gifted poets praised Maḥmūd, his successors, and his ministers. Among them was Farrokhī of Seistan (died 1037), who wrote a powerful elegy on Maḥmūd’s death, one of the finest compositions of Persian court poetry.
Epic and romance
The main literary achievement of the Ghaznavid period, however, was that of Ferdowsī (died c. 1020). He compiled the inherited tales and legends about the Persian kings in one grand epic, the Shāh-nāmeh (“Book of Kings”), which contains between 35,000 and 60,000 verses in short rhyming couplets. It deals with the history of Iran from its beginnings—that is, from the “time” of the mythical kings—passing on to historical events, giving information about the acceptance of the Zoroastrian faith, Alexander’s invasion, and, eventually, the conquest of the country by the Arabs. A large part of the work centres on tales of the hero Rostam. These stories are essentially part of a different culture, thus revealing something about the Indo-European sources of Iranian mythology. The struggle between Iran and Tūrān (the central Asian steppes from which new waves of nomadic conquerors distributed Iran’s urban culture) forms the central theme of the book, and the importance of the legitimate succession of kings, who are endowed with royal charisma, is reflected throughout the composition. The poem contains very few Arabic words and is often considered the masterpiece of Persian national literature, although it lacks proper historical perspective. Its episodes have been the inspiration of miniaturists since the 14th century. Numerous attempts have been made to emulate it in Iran, India, and Turkey.
Other epic poems, on a variety of subjects, were composed during the 11th century. The first example is Asadī’s (died c. 1072) didactic Garshāsp-nāmeh (“Book of Garshāsp”), whose hero is very similar to Rostam. The tales of Alexander and his journeys through foreign lands were another favourite topic.
Poetical romances were also being written at this time. They include the tale of Varqeh o-Golshāh (“Varqeh and Golshāh”) by ʿEyyūqī (11th century) and Vīs o-Rāmīn (“Vīs and Rāmīn”) by Fakhr od-Dīn Gorgānī (died after 1055), which has parallels with the Tristan story of medieval romance. These were soon superseded, however, by the great romantic epics of Neẓāmī of Ganja (died c. 1209), in Caucasia. The latter are known as the Khamseh (“The Quintuplet” or “The Five”) and, though the names of Vīs or Vāmeq continued for some time to serve as symbols of the longing lover, it was the poetical work of Neẓāmī that supplied subsequent writers with a rich store of images, similes, and stories to draw upon. The first work in his collection, Makhzan ol-asrār (“Treasury of Mysteries”), is didactic in intention. The subjects of the following three poems are traditional love stories. The first is the Arabic romance of Majnūn, who went mad with love for Laylā. Second is the Persian historical tale of Shīrīn, a Christian princess, loved by both the Sasanian ruler Khosrow II Parvīz and the stonecutter Farhād. The third story, Haft peykar (“Seven Beauties”), deals with the adventures of Bahrām Gūr, a Sasanian prince, and seven princesses, each connected with one day of the week, one particular star, one colour, one perfume, and so on. The last part of the Khamseh is Eskandar-nāmeh, which relates the adventures of Alexander the Great in Africa and Asia, as well as his discussions with the wise philosophers. It thus follows the traditions about Alexander and his tutor, Aristotle, emphasizing the importance of a counselor-philosopher in the service of a mighty emperor. Neẓāmī’s ability to present a picture of life through highly refined language and a wholly apt choice of images is quite extraordinary. Human feelings, as he describes them, are fully believable; and his characters are drawn with a keen insight into human nature. Not surprisingly, Neẓāmī’s work inspired countless poets’ imitations in different languages—including Turkish, Kurdish, and Urdu—while painters illustrated his stories for centuries afterward.
Other poetic forms
In addition to epic poetry, the lesser forms, such as the qaṣīdah and ghazal, developed during the 11th and 12th centuries. Many poets wrote at the courts of the Seljuqs and also at the Ghaznavid court in Lahore, where the poet Masʿūd-e Saʿd-e Salmān (died 1121) composed a number of heartfelt qaṣīdahs during his political imprisonment. They are outstanding examples of the category of the ḥabsiyyah (prison poem), which usually reveals more of the author’s personal feelings than other literary forms. Other famous examples of ḥabsiyyahs include those written by the Arab knight Abū Firās (died 968) in a Byzantine prison; by Muḥammad II al-Muʿtamid of Sevilla (died 1095) in the dungeons of the Almohads; by the 12th-century Persian Khāqānī; by the Urdu poets Ghālib, in the 19th century, and Faiz, in the 20th; and by the modern Turkish poet Nazım Hikmet (died 1963).
The most-complicated forms were mastered by poets of the very early period, especially Qaṭrān, who was born near Tabrīz (now in Iran) and died after 1072. Through their display of virtuosity for virtuosity’s sake, his qaṣīdahs reached the limits of artificiality. The court poets tried to top one another in the accumulation of complex metaphors and paradoxes, each hoping to win the coveted title “Prince of Poets.”
Anvarī (died c. 1189), whose patrons were the Seljuqs, is considered the most-accomplished writer of panegyrics in the Persian tongue. His verses contain little descriptive material but abound in learned allusions. His “Tears of Khorāsān,” mourning the passing of Seljuq glory, is among the best-known of Persian qaṣīdahs.
In the west of Iran, Anvarī’s contemporary Khāqānī (died c. 1190), who wrote mainly at the court of the Shīrvān-Shāhs of Transcaucasia, is the outstanding master of the hyperbolic style. His father was a Muslim, but his mother was a Christian from the Church of the East, and his imagery has more than the usual amount of allusions to Christian themes. His vocabulary seems inexhaustible; he uses uncommon rhetorical devices and very strong language. His poems are as impressive as his poignant antithetic formulations. Khāqānī’s verses on the ruined Ṭāq Kisrā at Ctesiphon on the Tigris have become proverbial. His qaṣīdahs on the pilgrimage to Mecca, which also inspired his mas̄nawī, Tuḥfat al-ʿIrāqayn (“Gift of the Two Iraqs”), translate most eloquently the feelings of a Muslim at the festive occasion. In the hand of lesser poets, however, qaṣīdah writing became more and more conventionalized, repeating clichés and employing inflated terms entirely devoid of feeling.
Scholarship: al-Bīrūnī
The Ghaznavid and Seljuq periods produced first-rate scholars such as al-Bīrūnī (died 1048) who, writing in Arabic, investigated Hinduism and gave the first unprejudiced account of India—indeed, of any non-Islamic culture. He also wrote notable books on chronology and history. In his search for pure knowledge he is undoubtedly one of the greatest minds in Islamic history. Interest in philosophy is represented by Nāṣer-e Khusraw (died 1072/77), who acted for a time as a missionary for the Ismāʿīliyyah, a branch of Shiʿi Islam. His book about his journey to Egypt, entitled Safar-nāmeh (translated into English as Diary of a Journey Through Syria and Palestine), is a pleasing example of simple, clearly expressed, early Persian prose. His poetical works in the main seek to combine Greek wisdom and Islamic thought: the gnostic Ismāʿīlī interpretation of Islam seemed, to him, an ideal vehicle for a renaissance of the basic Islamic truths.
Robāʿiyyāt: Omar Khayyam
The work done in mathematics by early Arabic scholars and by al-Bīrūnī was continued by Omar Khayyam (died 1131), to whom the Seljuq empire in fact owes the reform of its calendar. But Omar has become famous in the West through the very free adaptations by Edward FitzGerald of his robāʿiyyāt. These quatrains have been translated into almost every known language and are largely responsible for colouring European ideas about Persian poetry. Some scholars have doubted the authenticity of these verses. Since FitzGerald’s time, many more faithful translations have been published.
The quatrain is an easy form to use—many have been scribbled on Persian pottery of the 13th century—and the same verse has been attributed to many different authors. The latest research into the question of the robāʿiyyāt has established that a certain number of the quatrains can, indeed, be traced back to the great scientist who condensed in them his feelings and thoughts, his skepticism and love, in such an enthralling way that they appeal to every reader. The imagery he uses, however, is entirely inherited; none of it is original. (One of the most noted, and notorious, writers of this genre was the female poet Mahsatī [first half of the 12th century], who frequently addressed members of different professions in rather frivolous lines.) The quatrain was also popular as a means of embodying pieces of mystical wisdom. One has to do away with the old theory that the first author of such mystical robāʿiyyāt was Abū Saʿīd ibn Abū al-Khayr (died 1049). A number of his contemporaries, however, including Bābā Ṭāher ʿOryān (died after 1055), used simpler forms of the quatrain, sometimes in order to express their mystical concepts.
The mystical poem
Whereas the mystical thought stemming from Iran had formerly been written in Arabic, writers from the 11th century onward turned to Persian. Along with works of pious edification and theoretical discussions, what was to be one of the most common types of Persian literature came into existence: the mystical poem. Khwajah ʿAbd Allāh al-Anṣārī of Herāt (died 1088), a prolific writer on religious topics in both Arabic and Persian, first popularized the literary “prayer,” or mystical contemplation, written in Persian in rhyming prose interspersed with verses. Sanāʾī (died 1131?), at one time a court poet of the Ghaznavids, composed the first mystical epic, the didactic Ḥadīqat al-ḥaqīqat wa sharīʿat al-ṭariqah (“The Garden of Truth and the Law of the Path”), which has some 10,000 verses. In this lengthy and rather dry poem, the pattern for all later mystical mas̄navīs is established: wisdom is embodied in stories and anecdotes; parables and proverbs are woven into the texture of the story, eventually leading back to the main subject, although the argument is without thread and the narration puzzling to follow. Among Sanāʾī’s smaller mas̄navīs, Sayr al-ʿibād ilā al-maʿād (“The Journey of the Servants to the Place of Return”) deserves special mention. Its theme is the journey of the spirit through the spheres, a subject dear to the mystics and still employed in modern times as, for example, by Iqbāl in his Persian Jāvīd-nāmeh (1932; “The Song of Eternity”).
Sanāʾī’s epic endeavours were continued by one of the most prolific writers in the Persian tongue, Farīd al-Dīn ʿAṭṭār (died c. 1220). He was a born storyteller, a fact that emerges from his lyrics but even more so from his works of edification. The most famous among his mas̄navīs is the Manṭeq al-ṭayr (The Conference of the Birds), modeled after some Arabic allegories. It is the story of 30 birds who, in search of their spiritual king, journey through seven valleys. The poem is full of tales, some of which have been translated even into the most remote Islamic languages. (The story of the pious Sheykh Ṣanʿān, who fell in love with a Christian maiden, is found, for example, in Kashmiri.) ʿAṭṭār’s symbolism of the soul-bird was perfectly in accord with the existing body of imagery beloved of Persian poetry, but it was he who added a scene in which the birds eventually realize their own identity with God (because they, being sī morgh, or “30 birds,” are identified with the mystical Sīmorgh, who represents God). Also notable are his Elāhī-nāmeh (“The Book of God”), an allegory of a king and his six sons, and his profound Moṣībat-nāmeh (“Book of Affliction”), which closes with its hero’s being immersed in the ocean of his soul after wandering through the 40 stages of his search for God. The epic exteriorizes the mystic’s experiences in the 40 days of seclusion.
Importance of Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī
The most famous of the Persian mystical mas̄navīs is by Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī (died 1273) and is known simply as the Mas̄navī. It comprises some 26,000 verses and is a complete—though quite disorganized—encyclopaedia of all the mystical thought, theories, and images known in the 13th century. It is regarded by most of the Persian-reading orders of Sufis as second in importance only to the Qurʾān. Its translation into many Islamic languages and the countless commentaries written on it up to the present day indicate its importance in the formation of Islamic poetry and religious thought. Jalāl al-Dīn, who hailed from Balkh (in present-day Afghanistan) and settled in Konya (in present-day Turkey), the capital of the Rūm, or Anatolian Seljuqs (and hence was surnamed “Rūmī”), was also the author of love lyrics whose beauty surpasses even that of the tales in the Mas̄navī. Mystical love poetry had been written since the days of Sanāʾī, and theories of love had been explained in the most subtle prose and sensitive verses by the Sufis of the early 12th century. Yet Rūmī’s experience of mystical love for the wandering mystic, Shams al-Dīn of Tabrīz, was so ardent and enraptured him to such an extent that he identified himself completely with Shams, going so far as to use the beloved’s name as his own pen name. His dithyrambic lyrics, numbering more than 30,000 verses altogether, are not at all abstract or romantic. On the contrary, their vocabulary and imagery are taken directly from everyday life, so that they are vivid, fresh, and convincing. Often their rhythm invites the reader to partake in the mystical dance practiced by Rūmī’s followers, the Mawlawiyyah (the name is derived from the honorific “Mawlānā”—meaning “Our Lord”—often bestowed on Rūmī). His verses sometimes approach the form of popular folk poetry. Indeed, Rūmī is reputed to have written mostly under inspiration, and, despite his remarkable poetical technique, the sincerity of his love and longing is never overshadowed, nor is his personality veiled. In these respects he is unique in Persian literature.
Zenith of Islamic literature
During the 13th century the Islamic lands were exposed, on the political plane, to the onslaught of the Mongols and the abolition of the Abbasid caliphate, while vast areas were laid to waste. Yet this was in fact the period in which Islamic literatures reached their zenith. Apart from Rūmī’s superb poetry, written in the comparative safety of Konya, there was also the work of the Egyptian Ibn al-Fāriḍ (died 1235), who composed some magnificent, delicately written mystical poems in qaṣīdah style, and that of Ibn al-ʿArabī, who composed love lyrics and numerous theosophical works that were to become standard.
In Iran one of the greatest literati, Saʿdī, (died 1291), returned about 1256 to his birthplace, Shīrāz, after years of journeying, and his Būstān (The Orchard) and Gulistān (The Rose Garden) have been popular ever since. The Būstān is a didactic poem telling wise and uplifting moral tales, written in polished, easy-flowing style and a simple metre. The Gulistān, completed one year later, in 1258, has been judged “the finest flower that could blossom in a Sultan’s garden” (Johann Gottfried von Herder). Its eight chapters deal with different aspects of human life and behaviour. At first sight its prose and poetical fragments appear to be simple and unassuming, but not a word could be changed without destroying the perfect harmony of the sound, imagery, and content. Saʿdī’s Gulistān is thus essential in discovering the nature of the finest Persian literary style. Since the mid-17th century its moralizing stories have been translated into many Western languages. Saʿdī was likewise the author of some spirited ghazals; he may have been the first writer in Iran to compose the sort of love poetry that is now thought of as characteristic of the ghazal. A few of his qaṣīdahs are also of note, although he is at his best in shorter forms. His elegant aphoristic poems, words of wisdom, and sensible advice all display what has been called the philosophy of common sense—how to act in any given situation so as to make the best of it both for oneself and others, basing one’s conduct on the virtues of gentleness, elegance, modesty, and polite behaviour.
The influence of mysticism, on the one hand, and of the elaborate Persian poetical tradition, on the other, is apparent during the later decades of the 13th century, both in Anatolia and in Muslim India. The Persian mystic ʿIrāqī (died 1289), a master of delightful love lyrics, lived for almost 25 years in Multan (in present-day Pakistan), where his lively ghazals are still sung. His short treatises, in a mixture of poetry and prose (and written under Ibn al-ʿArabī’s influence), have been imitated often.
While in Multan he may have met the young Amīr Khosrow of Delhi (died 1325), who was one of the most versatile authors to write in Persian, not only in India but in the entire realm of Persian culture. Amīr Khosrow, son of a Turkish officer but whose mother was Indian, is often styled, because of the sweetness of his speech, “the parrot of India.” (In Persian, it should be noted, parrots are always “sugar-talking”; they are, moreover, connected with paradise and are thought of as wise birds—thus models of the sweet-voiced sage.) He wrote panegyrics of seven successive kings of Delhi and was also a pioneer of Indian Muslim music. Imitating Neẓāmī’s Khamseh, Khosrow introduced a novelistic strain into the mas̄navī by recounting certain events of his own time in poetical form, some parts of which are lyrics. His style of lyrical poetry has been described as “powdered,” and his ghazals contain many of the elements that in the 16th and 17th centuries were to become characteristic of the “Indian” style. Khosrow’s poetry surprises the reader in its use of unexpected forms and unusual images, complicated constructions and verbal plays, all handled fluently and presented in technically perfect language. His books on the art of letter writing prove his mastery of high-flown Persian prose. Khosrow’s younger contemporary, Ḥasan of Delhi (died 1328), is less well known and had a more simple style. He nevertheless surpassed Khosrow in warmth and charm, qualities that earned him the title of “the Saʿdī of Hindustan.”
