like a mere silver armlet (6)?
So there is no pride if you compare my lips to the full moon, my eyelids to the spell of dawn, and my couch to the stillness of night (1).
Al-Zubayr ibn Bakkār also related, on the authority of Abū Muḥammad al-Jazarī:
In Madinah there was a singing slave-girl named Sallāmah, distinguished by an incomparable face, a sound and balanced mind, and an elegant figure. She had memorised the Qur’an, narrated poetry—and even composed it herself. ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn Ḥassān and al-Aḥwaṣ ibn Muḥammad used to sit in her company. Sallāmah grew fond of al-Aḥwaṣ and kept her distance from ʿAbd al-Raḥmān. Stung by this, Ibn Ḥassān travelled to Yazid ibn Muʿāwiyah in Syria, praised him, and told him about Sallāmah—her loveliness, grace, and eloquence—adding, “She is suited only to you, O Commander of the Believers, to join the circle of your evening companions.” Yazid sent for her; she was purchased, brought before him, and won a place of high favour, surpassing all the women around him.
ʿAbd al-Raḥmān then returned to Madinah and passed by al-Aḥwaṣ, whom he found sunk in distress. Wishing to deepen his grief, he recited:
O sufferer in love, sorely wounded,
who has tasted love’s most rending agonies!
Love has struck him mute; he stirs no more
save when the cup of love intoxicates him at dawn.
That which delighted him is barred against him,
while what he loathes now stands wide open.
She is now possessed by one in whose presence she dwells,
who may breathe her scent and draw her near.
The Caliph of Allah has taken her—so give passion its leave
and fortify a heart of yours that lies wounded!
Al-Aḥwaṣ held back from replying, but the force of his longing prevailed. He journeyed to Yazid, praised him in verse, and Yazid honoured him and showed him favour. Sallāmah secretly sent a servant to al-Aḥwaṣ, giving him money so that he might bring the poet to her. The servant informed Yazid, who said, “Carry out her request.” The servant complied, ushering al-Aḥwaṣ into her presence. Yazid, meanwhile, took a seat where he could see them though they could not see him. When Sallāmah glimpsed al-Aḥwaṣ she wept for him and he for her. She ordered a chair to be placed for him, and he sat. Each poured out to the other the pain of yearning, and they conversed until the break of dawn, Yazid listening all the while, though nothing improper passed between them.
When al-Aḥwaṣ was about to depart, he said:
My heart has spent the night in worry and turmoil,
for love of one who has never left my thoughts.
She replied:
Lovers come to their senses after separation once despair sets in—
but I despair, and never come to my senses at all.
He responded:
Whoever can forget through despair a trusted friend—
then farewell to you; but I have not forgotten you by nightfall.
She said: