except a trickle of māʾ wajhī (the water of my face—my remaining honor) that I have preserved from being sold; yet where, oh where, is the purchaser? (1)
Ibn Ḥayyūs said to him, “Had you added, ‘and you are the best purchaser,’ it would have been finer.”
He then continued, “You have found favor with me, and you have virtually announced my own demise; for Syria is never devoid of a gifted poet, and you are my heir. Go, therefore, to the Banū ʿAmmār in Tripoli, for they cherish this craft.” He presented him with garments and dinars, whereupon Ibn al-Khayyāt set out for the Banū ʿAmmār. They in turn rewarded him generously, and he praised them in verse.
Al-ʿImād al-Kātib remarked, “Ibn Ḥayyūs is the more skillful craftsman, yet Ibn al-Khayyāt’s poetry has a sweetness the other lacks. Anyone who looked at Ibn al-Khayyāt would think him a camel driver or a porter, given his dress, his appearance, and his build.”
Among his poems for ʿAḍud al-Dawla Abq ibn ʿAbd al-Razzāq, the emir of Damascus, is his renowned and exquisite ode of more than seventy lines, which opens:
Take from the east wind of Najd a pledge of safety for his heart, / For its breeze would once make his very reason fly away. (2)