45 – Hārūn ibn Abī Yaḥyā al-Sulamī told me; Abū ʿUmar al-ʿUmarī reported, on the authority of a shaykh from the tribe of Muhārib, that ʿAbd al-Malik ibn Marwān was once sitting with several of his sons and members of his household. They said, “Let us recite for you the finest maxims and the most eloquent poetry that has come down to us.” They then chanted verses by Zuhayr, al-Nābighah, Imruʾ al-Qays, Ṭarafah and Labīd. ʿAbd al-Malik remarked, “The most accomplished poet among them is the one who says:

A kinsman whose claws I trimmed with my own forbearance, while he himself has none;
He alone tries to subdue me—no one else dares—and to me his success would feel like death.
If I pardon him, I must shut my eyes to a mote, and his creed teaches him nothing of clemency;
If I exact revenge, I become like a fletcher fashioning an enemy’s arrows, whose shafts split bone.
I have endured what has passed between us—war with kin is never the same as peace.
He reviles my honour behind my back, in ignorance, yet I give him neither contempt nor abuse.
Whenever I offer him the bond of kinship, he barters instead for severing it—sheer folly and sin.
If I summon him to fairness he refuses and defies me, appealing to a judgement that is nothing but wrong.
There was a time I crushed the spiteful and found relief, cutting so deep that no cautery could heal.
I would repay evil with equal evil, though at times I forbore even when the crime was great.
Were it not for fear of Allah—and the womb that binds us, whose care is a duty and whose neglect is oppression—
I would have lifted my gleaming spear against him and branded him with a mark of shame no brand could match.
Whenever I build, he strives to demolish what is sound; what lies between us is unlike one who lives to destroy.
He longs to see me destitute and needy, while I loathe for my praise to be mingled with poverty.
He counts my calamities as trophies, yet for him they bring neither honour nor gain. ⦗43⦘
I stand for him, mail-clad, should fate strike him, wrestling his foe when the adversary bites.
I curb for his sake every bright-eyed, over-reaching assailant—bitter, relentless, driven by greed.
I have never ceased to be gentle and tender with him, as a mother fondly bends over her child.
And when I fear disaster for him I say, “Be safe—may your generous maternal and paternal uncles ransom you!”
I conceal from others what about him disturbs me, and I swallow my anger, for bridled rage can benefit.
I drew the rancour from his breast until I removed it, though he had harboured a spite heavier than the offence.
I buried the breach between us and patched it with kindness and humility—a crack can indeed be repaired.
I cleansed his chest of fetters, widening it with my forbearance, as wounds are healed by medicine.
I quenched the fire of war between us, so that after the conflict he became for us a friend.

These verses are by Maʿn ibn Aws al-Muzanī.”