Abu Nuwas, wine, and woe: a new translation
A libertine outrageous in his praise of wine, Abu Nuwas (d. 814) was an adroit courtier, a poet, and a figure whose historical legacy is more mythology than biography. He was, in short, the Abbasid period's archetypical man of letters.
The early Abbasid court of Abu Nuwas's day presided over a springtime for philosophical and scientific inquiry. Not preoccupied by imperial expansion, the Abbasids turned inward and enthusiastically patronized the arts and sciences. Their new capital, Baghdad, was renowned for its House of Wisdom (بيت الحكمة), an institution dedicated to the study and translation of the texts of the Greek, Persian, and Christian learned traditions they inherited and advanced. The products of this new inquiry at times suggested the fundamental truth of Arthur C. Clarke’s dictum that “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” It was under Abu Nuwas’ patron Harun al-Rashid (d. 809) that Carolingian emissaries were sent back to a benighted Europe dazzled by a water clock that marked the passage of time with gongs and brass automata in the shape of horsemen.
Though highly dependent upon the bureaucratic and learned talents of Persians like Abu Nuwas, this florescence of science used Arabic as its lingua franca. Much as Latin was the primary vehicle for high thought in Christian Europe, the Arabic language was pressed into service not only for technocratic purposes, but increasingly for novel forms of cultural expression.[1] Under the Abbasids Arab civilization was becoming more diverse and increasingly self-confident, and as Abu Nuwas would have it, it was high time artistic sentiment caught up.
Abu Nuwas skewered the vagabond poetry and creaky odes of earlier times by shining a bright light on the urbane civilization into which he so skillfully ingratiated himself. He mocked the tableaux of his predecessors: abandoned campsites, obscure tribal genealogies, lonesome wanderings across desert wastes. In their place he celebrated the fruits of modernity, none more tempting to him than the grape. Acculturated, thoroughly modern, and excessively given to “yellow, vintage wine,” Abu Nuwas was ideally suited to court life. It was his status as boon companion to the Harun al-Rashid, more than his poetry, that earned him a place in the Arabian Nights as a debauched playboy. That his legacy should be reduced to a single intemperance is somewhat unfair, however, for he cultivated many grievous flaws of personality: he was also a lecher and a plagiarist.
Nor is it the case that wine was the only subject of interest to the poet. With Imagist detail he composed poems on flowers, song, hunting, and romantic and erotic love.[2] The poem below is said to be his earliest. Fairuz has made an inscrutably cheery recording of it.
The lover bemoans his burden
A passionate man is a weary one, ardor unsteadies him.
If he cries he is right to do it, for his charge is no game.
Lighthearted, you laugh while the lover weeps.
You wonder at my lovesickness, yet my health is the real marvel,
Whenever a cause of my agony flits off another comes to me from you.
حامِلُ الهَوى تَعِبُ يَستَخِفُّهُ الطَرَبُ
إِن بَكى يُحَقُّ لَهُ لَيسَ ما بِهِ لَعِبُ
تَضحَكينَ لاهِيَةً وَالمُحِبُّ يَنتَحِبُ
تَعجَبينَ مِن سَقَمي صِحَّتي هِيَ العَجَبُ
كُلَّما اِنقَضى سَبَبٌ مِنكِ عادَ لي سَبَبُ
“Atala y los Natchez” by Gustave Doré (c. 1880) / Creative Commons
As for my translation and its shortcomings, a few points bear notice. First, “ardor” stands in for the word طرب (ṭarab), about which a great deal of digital ink has already been spilled. Ṭarab is special in capturing the ebullience and the despair that powerful emotion can freight. (In fact, Arberry was noncommittal in choosing to translate ṭarab as “deep emotion,” leaving readers well-informed, if not disappointed.[3]) Second, “ardor” itself has a wonderfully suggestive etymology, as explained in Webster’s 1913:
Fervor is a boiling heat, and ardor is a burning heat. Hence, in metaphor, we commonly use fervor and its derivatives when we conceive of thoughts or emotions under the image of ebullition, or as pouring themselves forth. Thus we speak of the fervor of passion, fervid declamation, fervid importunity, fervent supplication, fervent desires, etc. Ardent is used when we think of anything as springing from a deepseated glow of soul; as ardent friendship, ardent zeal, ardent devotedness; burning with ardor for the fight.
Given the unrequited nature of the love described by Abu Nuwas, ardor seems more appropriate.