O deserted encampment, had I been tears pouring upon your traces,
my vow would have been discharged, yet still my duty to you unmet.
Let not your weather-worn site deny the wasting of my body;
I have drained the cup of love to its very dregs.
I remember your pasture when delights once settled there;
now the rain-clouds come to sob and lament.
Lightning flashes over you like the Ṣāḥib’s unsheathed swords,
and the down-pour resembles his bounty whenever he bestows.
A clique burned with the furnace-heat of envy
while you hoisted me to ranks that towered above the necks of my foes.
I am Joseph; they are the brothers, and you are the father of the tribes—
the blood they allege is no more than a lying tale.
A dog may bark until it meets a lion of the plain;
the moment it sees the lion, it turns and runs.

Thaʿālibī relates: He left Rayy, arrived in Nīshāpūr, praised the army commander, and was rewarded; then he reached Bukhārā, where he was honored. I associated with him and found a man whose robe was filled with excellence. His ambition soared to the caliphate, and he kept promising himself that he would set out for Baghdad at the head of armies marshalled for him from Khurāsān, but death cut him off. He fell ill with dropsy and died in 383 AH (1).

372 – Ibn al-Taḥḥān Ismāʿīl ibn Isḥāq al-Qaysī *
The imam, ḥadith master, jurist, traditionist, and meticulous scholar, Abū al-Qāsim Ismāʿīl ibn Isḥāq ibn Ibrāhīm al-Qaysī al-Qurṭubī, the Mālikī—known as Ibn al-Taḥḥān—author of several works.

He transmitted hadith from Qāsim ibn Aṣbagh, Aḥmad ibn ʿUbāda al-Ruʿaynī, Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥāfiẓ, and others.