From Library Journal
Edited and translated by Lewis, a well-known scholar of Arabic culture, this collection of 132 "classical" Middle Eastern poems dating from the seventh to the 18th centuries reveals the extensive heritage of Islamic poetry. The poems are divided into Arabic, Persian, Turkish, and Hebrew "rich and ancient" cultures that "reflect a wide variety of approaches and activities, from the pagan desert to the Muslim city." Showing how Islamic culture from antiquity has been composed of interrelated, "multiracial" groups, Lewis's erudite introduction discusses the emergence of Arabic languages and the status of poets and pays tribute to "the love of poetry and respect for poetry characteristic of Arab culture." Of various ethnicities, 54 predominantly male poets (Omar Khayyam and Rumi are the most familiar) living in diverse countries (e.g., Azerbaijan, Ethiopia, and Spain) express international cultural awareness centuries before the modern era. Sometimes humorous or mystical, the poems focus on family, love, and religion. Including biographies, illustrations, and an appendix of scripts of each source language, this collection is a fine historical document and anthology of eloquent poetry. For all academic and larger public libraries. Frank Allen, Northampton Community Coll., Tannersville, PA
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From The New Yorker
Lewis, one of the foremost scholars of the Middle East, has devoted much of his career to the history of Islam; this volume collects his translations of poems—nearly all appearing in English for the first time—that span eleven centuries and four major Middle Eastern traditions. Many of the most striking works address, in spare, stirring lines, the twin demands of serving the self and serving God: "Love is a lamp of God, I am its moth; / love is a shackle, my heart its crazy captive." For the Sufi poets in particular, poetry is an occasion for mystical experience, and their work frequently offers a vision of transcendence that is grounded in the senses: "O Sun of Tabriz, I am so tipsy here in this world, / I have no tale to tell but tipsiness and rapture."
Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker
Copyright © 2005 The New Yorker
