—may Allah be pleased with him—so he swore to shed Imrān’s blood and posted spies to track him.

No land could shelter him, so he sought protection with Rūḥ ibn Zinbāʿ and stayed as his guest. Rūḥ asked, “From which tribe are you?” He answered, “From al-Azd.”

Imrān remained with him for a year, during which Rūḥ came to admire him greatly. One evening Rūḥ sat with the Commander of the Faithful, and the two recalled Imrān’s poem. When Rūḥ left the caliph’s company, he told Imrān what had been said and recited to him the remainder of the ode.

Upon returning to ʿAbd al-Malik he said, “A man is under my roof from whom I have never heard a single report except that he related it to me—only better—and he has just recited the entire poem for me.” The caliph replied, “Describe him to me.” When he did so, ʿAbd al-Malik exclaimed, “You are describing Imrān ibn Ḥiṭṭān. Invite him to meet me.”

Realizing this, Imrān fled to al-Jazīrah and then made his way to ʿUmān, where he was treated with honor.

Qatādah relates: Imrān ibn Ḥiṭṭān met me and said, “O blind man, commit these verses of mine to memory:

How long will souls be made to drink their cup—
the blows of fate—while you heedlessly frolic?
Have you agreed to console yourself with empty hopes,
though every day you are pushed toward death?
They are but dream-images of sleep, or a fading shadow;
a man of insight is not deceived by such things.
So keep provisioning yourself, without cease, for the day of poverty,
and gather for your own soul, not for another.” (1)

We have also been informed that al-Thawrī would often cite these verses of Imrān:

I see the wretched of mankind never weary of the world,
though in it they are naked and hungry.
Even if she should endear herself, the world is but a summer cloud—
before long it will disperse.
Like travellers who have met their needs and moved on,
their path plainly marked and easy to follow. (2)

ʿAbd al-Bāqī ibn Qāniʿ, the ḥāfiẓ, said: Imrān ibn Ḥiṭṭān died in 84 AH.