And ʿAbd Allah ibn Marzuq (1)—Abū Muhammad the ascetic—had once served as vizier to Hārūn al-Rashīd. He abandoned the post, embraced an austere life, and, when death approached, instructed that he be laid upon a rubbish-heap before he died, hoping thereby that Allah might show him mercy.

Abū l-Shīṣ the poet (2)—Muḥammad ibn Razīn ibn Sulaymān (3)—found that the recitation (4), composition, and weaving of poetry were easier for him than drinking water, as Ibn Khallikān and others (5) report. He would meet with Muslim ibn al-Walīd, nicknamed Sarīʿ al-Ghawānī (“felled by the fair maidens”), with Abū Nuwās, and with Diʿbil to exchange verses. Abū l-Shīṣ went blind toward the end of his life.

Among his finest lines are these:

Love has halted me where you are—
no retreat remains, no further advance.

I find the blame I earn for loving you delightful,
for the rebuke recalls your name; so let the censurers blame!

You have come to resemble my foes, and I now love them,
since my portion from you is the same portion I receive from them.

You humbled me, so I humbled myself in abasement—
for one whom you slight is no longer honored. (6)

[Then the year 197 AH began.]

The year opened with Ṭāhir ibn al-Ḥusayn, Harthama ibn Aʿyan, and their forces tightening the siege of Baghdad and pressing hard upon al-Amīn. Al-Rashīd’s son al-Qāsim and his uncle Manṣūr ibn al-Mahdī fled to al-Maʾmūn, who received them warmly and appointed his brother al-Qāsim governor of Jurjān. The siege of Baghdad grew ever harsher: mangonels and stone-throwers were erected against the city, and al-Amīn’s resources were exhausted. With nothing left to pay his troops, he was compelled to melt his silver and gold vessels and strike from them dirhams and dinars. Many of his soldiers deserted to Ṭāhir; countless townspeople were killed, vast sums were taken from the merchants, and al-Amīn sent men to numerous palaces, celebrated ornate mansions, and many other places and properties and set them ablaze, for he saw in that