Some Verses of Akhtal

The poetry of Akhtal stands as a monument to that golden treasury of the Arabic language in which the depths of the human heart, the transience of life, and the cold indifference of time appear with all their beauty and bitterness. Akhtal, known in the canon of Arabic poetry as Ghiyath ibn Ghawth, belongs to that distinguished company of poets who, through their mastery, endowed language with meaning and thought with wings.

His poetry is not merely an ornate arrangement of words; it is a mirror in which the blurred image of time becomes clear, and man sees, with open eyes, his youth, old age, and the stark realities of the world. Within these verses pulses the heartbeat of an experienced soul, laden with the anguish of betrayal by a beloved, the impermanence of youth, and the capriciousness of the age.

Akhtal’s timeless voice echoes through these lines, where he seems to call himself, and by extension, holds a mirror up to all humanity:

«يا قل خير الغواني، كيف رَغْنَ بهِ
فشربه وشل، فيهن تصريدُ»

O man drowned in heedlessness! There remains no goodness in these beautiful women—how easily they have deceived you! Their thirst for love is unquenchable, their desire perpetually unfulfilled. It is merely a fleeting brilliance, a mirage that charms the heart with deception, and when man seeks true satisfaction, he is left empty-handed. This is the very beguilement of beauty, which has always fascinated the world and continues to do so even today.

Then Akhtal points to that turning point in life when the autumn of old age has driven away the spring of youth:

«أعرضن من شَمَط في الرأس لاحَ بهِ
فهنّ منه، إذا أبصرنهُ حيدُ»

When the first glint of white appeared in the hair upon the head, those faces—once enchanted by his charm—turned away; those women, who once were captivated by his smile and beauty, now recoiled upon glimpsing a sign of old age. This is the way of the world: where beauty is cherished, but age is not honoured. The reality of man is confined to the freshness of his body, and when this brilliance fades, all the colours of relationships grow dull.

Akhtal revives a sweet memory of his youthful days, an echo that now resounds only through the alleys of the past:

«قد كن يعهدن مني مضحكًا حسنًا
ومفرقًا حسرت عنه العناقيدُ»

There was a time when these beautiful faces could not tire of gazing upon my smiling lips, when locks of hair swayed gracefully across my parting, and every eye envied the springtime of my youth. Now, all that remains are dreams, whose reality is lost somewhere in the haze of memory.

Then comes the final verse, which lays bare the true nature of these relationships:

«فهنّ يشدون مني بعض معرفةٍ
وهنّ بالود لا بخل ولا جودُ»

In those days, they acknowledged my identity; in affection, they were neither excessively generous nor entirely stingy. Their relationships rested on the delicate boundary where interest and emotion intermingle: there was neither genuine attachment nor complete indifference—just those fleeting affections of the world that scatter with the gust of time.

Akhtal’s verses are not merely poetry; they are a living commentary on human life. Within them one finds the lament of time, the deceit of beauty, and the helplessness of man. He sees life through the discerning eye of experience and, in the mirror of his words, shows all of humanity its frailty, its susceptibility to deception, and the impermanence of its condition.

This, indeed, is the style of expression that we call the heritage of classical Arabic poetry. Akhtal’s verses still touch the depths of the heart today, compelling the listener to reflect that time waits for none, youth passes like a dream, and all that endures is a caravan of memories, lost somewhere in the dust of the past.

Though Akhtal’s poetry is centuries old, the raw truth of human emotions and the bitterness of life concealed within it speak the timeless language of every heart in every age. This is the mark of the poet’s immortality and the proof of his artistic greatness.

Disclaimer: This article was translated by AI. Original post: https://t.me/DrAkramNadwi/6333