Owing (1) to the length of time he resided there and the many lessons he delivered, he became closely associated with the school. He (2) was not, however, its first lecturer; indeed, several other scholars (3) had preceded him, as noted above in the life of Nūr al-Dīn. Al-ʿImād later served as a secretary (4) in the Ṣalāḥid administration, and al-Qāḍī al-Fāḍil used to praise and thank him. They said that in everyday speech his diction could be stiff and hesitant, whereas his poetic faculty was extraordinarily sharp and vigorous.

Al-Qāḍī al-Fāḍil once said to his companions, “Pass judgment on him (5).” They spoke and offered various comparisons, but al-Fāḍil (6) rejected them, saying, “He is like flint: cold on the outside, fire within.”

Among his works are Khareedat al-Qaṣr (7) on the poets of his age, al-Fatḥ al-Qudsī, al-Barq al-Shāmī, and other books written in rhymed prose, with paired cadences (8), long odes, and elegantly fashioned themes and vocabulary.

A graceful sample of his love-poetry (9) reads:

[from the khafīf metre]

How can you say his eyes are languid,
when I see them, far from languor, tyrannise?
Had you seen how his glance enslaves,
you would have called it captor, not captive.
He draws the bow of his eyebrows to strike my heart,
as though he sought revenge.
Do not ask me (10) about the wine (11)—my reason
is already brimming (12) with its dregs and lies prostrate.
How can a rapt lover ever sober up
when doe-eyed beauties have mixed his cup?
Those wide pupils passed on their wasting fever,
and the slender waists bestowed on him their emaciation.
No dormant lion is ever snared
save by gazelles that keep to their secluded lairs.