Antarah ibn shaddad was a pre Islamic poet /knight his mother was an African Slave and his father was an Arab. He had black skin and Afro hair and grew up as a slave just like his mother . A slave to his own father. He wasn’t recognized as an Arab and faced cruel treatment and racism from his own tribe and even by his own father. However his father promised to make him a free man if he fights in the war that was going on between them and another tribe. He refused to be subjected to this racism especially by his own people Grabbed the sword and grew up to be one of the strongest knights and most eloquent poets among his own tribe and Arabs as a whole.
He is famously known for his immense love with a woman named Ablah from his own tribe And he desperately wanted to marry her ,but her father refused as he was viewed less of a human being even after he was no longer a slave.
Translates to “do not water me with the water of life If my humiliation/ill treatment is the cost but rather pour me the glass of hanthal (a plant known for its extreme bitterness ) while I’m dignified . The water of life in humiliation tastes like hell and hell with dignity is a fine abode “
Another poems: here he describes how even in battle his head is all about his beloved ablah who he can’t be with
But I would say one of my favorite poems of his :
أُعاتِبُ دَهراً لاَ يلِينُ لعاتبِ وأطْلُبُ أَمْناً من صُرُوفِ النَّوائِبِ وتُوعِدُني الأَيَّامُ وعْداً تَغُرُّني وأعلمُ حقاً أنهُ وعدُ كاذبِ خَدَمْتُ أُناساً وَاتَّخَذْتُ أقارباً لِعَوْنِي وَلَكِنْ أصْبَحُوا كالعَقارِبِ يُنادُونني في السِّلم يا بْنَ زَبيبة ٍ وعندَ صدامِ الخيلِ يا ابنَ الأطايبِ ولولا الهوى ما ذلَّ مثلي لمثلهم ولا خَضعتْ أُسدُ الفَلا للثَّعالبِ ستذكرني قومي إذا الخيلُ أصبحتْ تجولُ بها الفرسانُ بينَ المضاربِ فإنْ هُمْ نَسَوْني فالصَّوَارمُ والقَنا تذكرهمْ فعلي ووقعَ مضاربيِ فيَا لَيْتَ أَنَّ الدَّهْرَ يُدني أَحبَّتي إليَّ كما يدني إليَّ مصائبيِ ولَيْتَ خيالاً مِنكِ يا عبلَ طارقاً يرى فيضَ جفني بالدموعِ السواكبِ سأَصْبِرُ حَتَّى تَطَّرِحْني عَواذِلي وحتى يضجَّ الصبرُ بين جوانبيِ مقامكِ في جوِّ السماء مكانهُ وَباعِي قَصيرٌ عَنْ نوالِ الكَواكِبِ
Translates to : “I blame a time that is not kind to the complainer/the one suffering and I seek safety from who causes my pain . And the days promise me things that tempt me while I know it’s a false promise . I served people and took kin to aid me but they became like scorpions . in peace they call me the “son of the crow” and when horses crash in battle they seek my help as they call me “o the son of the noble man !” and if it’s not for desire (to be accepted) I would not have lowered myself to their level just as a lion wouldn’t submit to a fox (meaning how a fierce lion wouldn’t submit or lower himself to the treachery of foxes ) My tribe will remember me As I beat the warriors who surround my horse And if they forget me(and go back to insulting me) , then my sword will constantly remind them of my actions and the location of each strike that hit every one of their enemy I wish time would draw the ones I love near to me As it draws to me misfortunes”
That Nature is a Herclitean Fire - Gerard Manley Hopkins The Starlight Night - ditto When Kingfishers catch Fire - ditto Fire and Ice - Robert Frost The Tiger - William Blake
There's a poem called The dummy by Michael Mack that is exceptionally good, especially since bad poetry is KING! now with the internet!! Same with bad music tho nowhere close to bad poetry
