l-Ala, father
of excellence, or Abu'l-Feda, father of redemption). At times
this manufactured patronymic was a thing of mockery, more or less
gentle (such as a companion of the Prophet who was fond of cats,
and was entitled "father of the cat"). The prevalence among the
Arabs of the patronymic is immediately noticed, (a camel is the
father of Job; a strongly built person is the father of the
locust; a licentious person is the father of the night; and there
are multitudes of such formations). . . . With regard to
surnames, it was not the custom always for them to denote that
so-and-so was the son of his father's family. "Who is your
father?" says an Arab to the mule, and he replies, "The horse is
my maternal uncle." So there are some people who, for shame,
prefer that we should think of them as members of their mother's
family. . . .

The following additional quatrains may be quoted:

Unasking have we come,--too late, too soon
Unasking from this plot of earth are sent.
But we, the sons of noble discontent,
Use half our lives in asking for the moon.

("We all sorely complain," says Seneca, "of the shortness of
time, and yet have much more than we know what to do with. Our
lives are either spent in doing nothing at all or in doing
nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do.
We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as
though there would be no end of them.")

So then your hand has guarded me! Be blessed,
And, if you like such reading, read, I pray,
Through Moses' book, or credit them who say
That old Isaiah's hand is far the best.

Some day, some day the potter shall return
Into the dust. O potter, will you make
An earth which I would not refuse to take,
Or such unpleasant earth as you would spurn?

Then out of that--men swear with godly skill--
Perchance another potter may devise
Another pot, a piece of merchandise
Which they can love and break, if so they will.

And from a resting-place you may be hurled
And from a score of countries may be thrust--
Poor brother, you the freeman of the dust,
Like any slave are flung about the world.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Diwan of Abu'l-Ala, by Henry Baerlein

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