There was one place where, above all others, the Ḳaṣeedehs of the
ancient Arabs were recited: this was ´Okáḍh, the Olympia of Arabia,
where there was held a great annual Fair, to which not merely the
merchants of Mekka and the south, but the poet-heroes of all the land
resorted. The Fair of ´Okáḍh was held during the sacred months,—a sort
of ‘God’s Truce,’ when blood could not be shed without a violation of
the ancient customs and faiths of the Bedawees. Thither went the poets
of rival clans, who had as often locked spears as hurled rhythmical
curses. There was little fear of a bloody ending to the poetic
contest, for those heroes who might meet there with enemies or
blood-avengers are said to have worn masks or veils, and their poems
were recited by a public orator at their dictation. That these
precautions and the sacredness of the time could not always prevent
the ill-feeling evoked by the pointed personalities of rival singers
leading to a fray and bloodshed is proved by recorded instances; but
such results were uncommon, and as a rule the customs of the time and
place were respected. In spite of occasional broils on the spot, and
the lasting feuds which these poetic contests must have excited, the
Fair of ´Okáḍh was a grand institution. It served as a focus for the
literature of all Arabia: every one with any pretensions to poetic
power came, and if he could not himself gain the applause of the
assembled people, at least he could form one of the critical audience
on whose verdict rested the fame or the shame of every poet. The Fair
of ´Okáḍh was a literary congress, without formal judges, but with
unbounded influence. It was here that the polished heroes of the
desert determined points of grammar and prosody; here the seven Golden
Songs were recited, although (alas for the charming legend!) they were
_not_ afterwards ‘suspended’ on the Kaạbeh; and here ‘a magical
language, the language of the Ḥijáz,’ was built out of the dialects of
Arabia, and was made ready to the skilful hand of Moḥammad, that he
might conquer the world with his Ḳur-án.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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