Harun al-Rashid said, “Add another.” So al-ʿAbbās replied:
When night leans over you,
wrapping you in pitch-black shade,
And the darkness thickens so that no dawn can be seen,
then bring her forth—you shall behold a moon. (1)

The caliph said, “We have indeed beheld her, and we have ordered ten thousand dirhams for you.”

Among the verses for which even Bashshār ibn Burd admitted his mastery—granting him a place among the true poets—are his words:
I weep for those who once let me taste their friendship;
but once they had roused me to love, they fell asleep.
They urged me on; yet when I rose up, fully upright,
bowed by the burden they laid on me, they sat back down. (2)

He also said:
You spoke to me of her, O Saʿd, and drove me mad—
so add to my madness; tell me more, O Saʿd!
My heart has known no passion but passion for her:
it has no before, and for it there will be no after. (3)

Al-Aṣmaʿī relates:
“I entered upon al-ʿAbbās ibn al-Aḥnaf in Basra while he lay stretched upon his bed, breathing his last, saying:
‘O you who are far from your homeland,
alone, weeping over your grief!
Whenever his sobbing grows intense,
his ailments within him only increase.’
He then lost consciousness, but was roused by the call of a bird perched on a branch, whereupon he said:
‘The heart’s sorrow has grown the more,
for a warbler weeps upon the bough;
What moved him is what moved me, so he wept—
all of us weep for the home we have lost.’ (4)

He fainted once more; I shook him, and he was dead.

Al-Ṣūlī said: His death occurred in this very year. The judge Ibn Khallikān held that he died after it, while others said before it, in the year 188 AH; Allah knows best. ʿUmar ibn Shabbah said it was in 188 AH, and some historians maintained that he lived on after al-Rashid.