Samuel Hanagid
(993 to ca. 1056 or later)

View of the Alhambra, in Granada, Spain. Whether a vizier, a military commander, or only a courtier, did Samuel Hanagid spend a lot of time in this castle?
- A Selection of His Poems in English Translation
- Rouge in Appearance
- The Market
- The Ruined Citadel
- The Mountain of Sand
- Three Love Poems
- The Monarch’s Favors
- Gazing Through the Night
- Pluck the Roses
- Cold Days Have Come
- Does Isaac Live?
- A Day Ago I Buried You
- Lament for His Brother
- Answer Me
- The Hour
- On Fleeing His City
- Take This Book
ROUGE IN APPEARANCE
Rouge in appearance
and pleasant to drink,
mixed in Spain
and prized in Bombay;
weak in its pitcher but rising to the head it
rules in heads that sway.
Even the mourner whose tears
fall with his heart’s blood,
disperses his grief in retreat with wine,
As though friends—passing the cup from hand to hand—
were rolling dice, for a diamond.
Translated by Peter Cole
from Peter Cole, trans., Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996).
Copyright © 1996 by Princeton University Press.
http://press.princeton.edu/titles/5707.html
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
THE MARKET
I crossed through a souk where the butchers
hung oxen and sheep at their sides,
there were birds and herds of fatlings like squid,
their terror loud
as blood congealed over blood
and slaughterers’ knives opened veins.
In booths alongside them the fishmongers,
and fish in heaps, and tackle like sand;
and beside them the Street of the Bakers
—whose ovens are fired through dawn.
They bake, they eat, they lead their prey;
they split what’s left to bring home.
And my heart understood how they did it and asked:
Who are you to survive?
What separates you from these beasts,
which were born and knew waking and labor and rest?
If they hadn’t been given by God for your meals,
they’d be free.
If He wanted this instant
He’d easily put you in their place.
They’ve breath, like you, and hearts,
which scatter them over the earth;
there was never a time when the living didn’t die,
nor the young that they bear not give birth.
Pay attention to this, you pure ones,
and princes so calm in your fame,
know if you’d fathom the worlds of the hidden:
THIS IS THE LAW OF MAN.
Translated by Peter Cole
from Peter Cole, trans., Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996).
Copyright © 1996 by Princeton University Press.
http://press.princeton.edu/titles/5707.html
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
THE RUINED CITADEL
I billeted a strong force overnight in a citadel laid waste in former days by other generals. There we slept upon its back and flanks, while under us its landlords slept. And I said to my heart: Where are the many people who once lived here? Where are the builders and vandals, the rulers and paupers, the slaves and masters? Where are the begetters and the bereaved, the fathers and the sons, the mourners and the bridegrooms? And where are the many people born after the others had died, in days gone by, after other days and years? Once they lodged upon the earth; now they are lodged within it. They passed from their palaces to the grave, from pleasant courts to dust.
Translated by T. Carmi
from The Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse, edited by T. Carmi
(Allen Lane, 1981). Copyright © T. Carmi, 1981.
۞
THE MOUNTAIN OF SAND
Do you remember the mountain pass of sand which I crossed alone while fleeing from you and afraid?
Even today I am in transit over you,—but behind me are tens of thousands who obey me like their father
And wait for my utterances as for the rain and attend to my wisdom as to prophecy. Because of this bless them for me my God,—may they follow after me willingly today.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
THREE LOVE POEMS
1
I’d sell my soul for that fawn
of a boy night walker
to sound of the ‘ud & flute playing
who saw the glass in my hand said
“drink the wine from between my lips”
& the moon was a yod drawn on
the cover of dawn—in gold ink
2
take the blood of the grape from
her red jeweled glass like fire
in middle of hail
this lady with lips of scarlet
thread roof of her mouth
like good wine
mouth like her body well perfumed:
from blood of corpses the tips
of her fingers are red thus
half of her hand is like ruby
half quartz
3
that’s it—I love that fawn
plucking roses from
your garden—
you can put the blame on me
but if you once looked at my lover
with your eyes
your lovers would be hunting you
& you’d be gone
that boy who told me: pass
some honey from your hive
I answered: give me some back
on your tongue
& he got angry, yelled:
shall we two sin against the living God?
I answered: let your sin,
sweet master, be with me
Translated by Jerome Rothenberg and Harris Lenowitz
From Jerome Rothenberg and Harris Lenowitz, eds., Exiled in the Word:
Poems & Other Visions of the Jews from Tribal Times to the Present
(Port Townsend, WA: Copper Canyon Press, 1989).
Copyright © 1978, 1989 by Jerome Rothenberg.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher and of Jerome Rothenberg.
۞
THE MONARCH’S FAVORS
A monarch will not favor you unless he hopes to be
At ease while you labor and exert yourself in his service.
You are caught in his tongs: With one hand he brings you into
The flames,—while protecting you from the fire which with both hands he sets against you.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
GAZING THROUGH THE NIGHT
Gazing through the
night and its stars,
or the grass and its bugs,
I know in my heart these swarms
are the craft of surpassing wisdom.
Think: the skies
resemble a tent,
stretched taut by loops
and hooks;
and the moon with its stars,
a shepherdess,
on a meadow
grazing her flock;
and the crescent hull in the looser clouds
looks like a ship being tossed;
a whiter cloud, a girl
in her garden
tending her shrubs;
and the dew coming down is her sister
shaking water
from her hair onto the path;
as we
settle in our lives,
like beasts in their ample stalls—
fleeing our terror of death,
like a dove
its hawk in flight—
though we’ll lie in the end like a plate,
hammered into dust and shards.
Translated by Peter Cole
from Peter Cole, trans., Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996).
Copyright © 1996 by Princeton University Press.
http://press.princeton.edu/titles/5707.html
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
PLUCK THE ROSES
Behold the cold days have already passed
And the season of winter’s rains is buried.
The young turtle-doves are seen in our land;
They call to one another from the tips of branches.
Therefore, my companions, keep the covenant
Of friendship make haste and do not defy me.
Come to my garden and pluck
The roses whose perfume is like pure myrrh.
And by the blossoms and gathering of swallows
Who sing of the good times, drink ye
Wine in measures like the tears I shed over parting
With friends and as red as the faces of blushing lovers.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
COLD DAYS HAVE COME
The month of ‘Av has ended even ‘Elul and their heat is gone;
Also Tishri is gathered in and like them has passed.
Cold days have come and the new wine
Is red and its voice is still in the vat.
Therefore my friend, go among our companions
So that each may do as he intends.
Some said: Look at the clouds giving rain
And hear the thunder of the heavens on high,
And see the frost and the bonfire’s flame;
One descends while the other lifts and rises.
Come, drink from the cup and drink again
From the pitcher, night and day.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
“DOES ISAAC LIVE?”
On the way to see my brother, when they said that in his illness he is crushed and low
A messenger of evil tidings stood in my path and was silent.
Whereupon I spoke to him: “Tell me, why are you still.
Does Isaac live?” He answered: “He is already dead.”
I replied: “Silence, may dust fill your mouth!
May you be notified of every distress and affliction and may your father and mother be bereaved over you!
Did I not bring a physician who healed many others like him and sustained them from sickness?
How can he die, the great one of his age, accepted of the multitude of his brethren and seeking the welfare of your people,
Perhaps he sleeps?” He replied: “Will he awake be he prince or pauper who has fallen ill and died?”
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
A DAY AGO I BURIED YOU
Lo, I return with my spirit in torment
May God have mercy upon you, my brother!
A day ago I buried you
But even now my complaint is bitter.
Greetings I bring you! Do you not hear
When I call to you with all my might?
Answer me: Do you not recognize
The response of my crying lament?
Are your bones starting to wither
And your teeth loosening in the jaw?
Has your moistness fled in the night
Even as mine is running in my tears?
O first born of my father, I have left you
As security in the hand of my Creator
Whose assurance I trust
That you will go in peace.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
LAMENT FOR HIS BROTHER
On one of his journeys, he passed by his brother’s burial-place. There he paused and addressed him as follows:
Is there a sea between me and you, that I should not turn aside to be with you, that I should not run with a troubled heart to sit at your grave-side? Truly, if I did not do so, I would be a traitor to our brotherly love. O my brother, here I am, facing you, sitting by your grave, and the grief in my heart is as great as on the day you died. If I greeted you, I would hear no reply. You do not come out to meet me when I visit your grounds. You will not laugh in my company, nor I in yours. You cannot see my face, nor I yours, for the pit is your home, the grave your dwelling-place! First-born of my father, son of my mother, may you have peace in your final rest, and may the spirit of God rest upon your spirit and your soul! I am returning to my own soil, for you have been locked under the soil. Sometimes I shall sleep, sometimes wake—while you lie in your sleep forever. But until my last day, the fire of your loss will remain in my heart!
Translated by T. Carmi
from The Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse, edited by T. Carmi
(Allen Lane, 1981). Copyright © T. Carmi, 1981.
۞
ANSWER ME
Build me up like a tower on the heights of your sanctuary,
And set me like a seal upon your heart.
Make me drunk with the blood of the foe on the day of war
And satisfy me with his flesh on the night of redemption.
Place the cup of salvation upon my right hand
That my tongue may give voice in joy to a song of love.
For nearly a thousand years I have declared my sorrow
With many tears and with fasting,—will You not answer me?
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
THE HOUR
She said: “Be happy that God has helped you reach
The age of fifty in this world,” not knowing
That to me there is no difference between my life’s
Past and that of Noah about whom I heard.
For me there is only the hour in which I am present in this world:
It stays for a moment and then like a cloud moves on.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
ON FLEEING HIS CITY
And this in his youth on leaving Cordoba:
Spirit splits in its asking,
and soul in its wanting is balked;
and the body, fattened, is vital
and full—
its precious being uneasy . . .
But the modest man
walks on the earth with his
thought drawn toward sky.
What good is the pulse of man’s flesh
and its favors
when the mind is in pain?
And the friends who fray me,
their fine physiques
and slender thinking,
thinking it’s ease or gain
that drives me,
pitching from place to place,
my hair wild, my eyes
charcoaled with night—
and not a one speaks wisely,
their souls blunted, or blurred,
goat-footed thinkers.
Should someone unguilty
hold back from
longing toward heights like the moon?
Should he wait,
weaving its light across him
like a man stretching taut his tent skin,
until he acts and they hear of his action,
as he adds and then adds like the sea
to his fame?
By God and God’s faithful—
and I keep my oaths—
I’ll climb cliffs
and descend to the innermost pit,
and sew the edge of desert to desert,
and split the sea
and every gorge,
and sail in mountainous ascent,
until the word “forever” makes sense to me,
and my enemies fear me,
and my friends in that fear
find solace;
then free men will turn
their faces toward mine,
as I face theirs,
and soul will save us,
as it trips our obstructors.
The beds of our friendship are rich with it,
planted by the river of affection,
and fixed like a seal in wax,
like graven gold
in the windowed dome of the temple.
May YAH be with you as you love,
and your soul which He loves be delivered,
and the God of sentence
send aegis,
beyond both the sun and the moon.
Translated by Peter Cole
from Peter Cole, trans., Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996).
Copyright © 1996 by Princeton University Press.
http://press.princeton.edu/titles/5707.html
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
TAKE THIS BOOK
Joseph, take this book that I have selected for you from the choice works in the language of the Arabs.
I have copied it,—while the killing spear was sharpened by our hands and the sword drawn.
And death decrees one army to be exchanged for another, even (life’s) time (for its demise).
But I cease not from teaching you though death’s mouth is opened all about me,
In order that wisdom may come upon you,—for it is dearer to me than discovering my foes defeated.
Take it and reflect upon it and quit the crowds who deride language and speech.
Know that the man of understanding is like a tree of sweet fruit whose leaves are healing remedies,
While the fool is like the tree of the forest whose limbs and branches will be consumed by fire in the end.
Translated by Leon J. Weinberger
from Leon J. Weinberger, trans.,
Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel ibn Nagrela.
(Tuscaloosa and London: The University of Alabama Press, 1997).
Copyright © 1973 by The University of Alabama Press.
Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
۞
Further Reading
Essay
Samuel Hanagid and the “Law of Man”
Hebrew Sources
Abrahamson, S.R. Shmuel Hanagid: Ben Kohelet. Tel Aviv. 1953,
______________. Shmuel Hanagid: Ben Mishlei. Tel Aviv. 1949,
Habermann, A.M. Rabbi Shmuel Hanagid: Divan. Tel Aviv, 1947.
Yarden, Dov, ed. Divan Shmuel Hanagid [The Collected Poetry of Samuel the Prince, 993-1056]: Ben Tehillim [The Son of Psalms]. 2nd ed. Jerusalem: Dov Yarden, 1985.
__________. Divan Shmuel Hanagid [The Collected Poetry of Samuel the Prince, 993-1056]: Vol. 2. Ben Mishlei [The Son of Proverbs]. Jerusalem: Dov Yarden, 1982.
__________. Divan Shmuel Hanagid [The Collected Poetry of Samuel the Prince, 993-1056]: Vol. 3. Ben Qohelet [The Son of Ecclesiastes]. 1st ed. Jerusalem: Dov Yarden, 1992.
Translations (all of these books also contain commentary and biography)
Carmi, T. The Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse. New York: Penguin, 1981.
Goldstein, David. The Jewish Poets of Spain, 900-1250. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1971.
Halkin, Hillel. Grand Things to Write a Poem on: A Verse Autobiography of Shmuel Hanagid. Jerusalem: Gefen, 2000.
HaNagid, Shmuel. Selected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid. Translated by Peter Cole. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996.
Ibn Nagrela, Samuel. Jewish Prince in Moslem Spain: Selected Poems of Samuel Ibn Nagrela. Translated by Leon J. Weinberger. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1973.
Scheindlin, Raymond P. Wine, Women, and Death: Medieval Hebrew Poems on the Good Life. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1986 (paperback: New York: Oxford University Press, 1999).
Scholarship and Biography
Ashtor, Eliayhu. The Jews of Moslem Spain. Two vols. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1973. See vol 2/3, ch 2, “Samuel the Nagid and His Son,” pp. 41-189.
Levin, Israel. Samuel Hanagid: His Life and Poetry [Hebrew]. Tel Aviv, 1963.
Schirmann, Jefim. “Samuel HaNagid, the Man, the Soldier, the Politician.” Jewish Social Studies XIII:1 (January 1951), 99-126. (Available in online periodical databases accessible from many libraries.)
Zemazch, Eddy M. “Hanagid on God and Men.” Prooftexts 24 (2004), 87-98. The author argues that much of Hanagid’s work expresses not “theological hedonism,” as argued elsewhere by Dan Pagis, but “brave existential pessimism”: “Hanagid tells us to live it up, not because he knows that God wants it, but because he knows that we want it.”
Links to Other Web Sites with Information on Samuel Hanagid