THE PANEGYRIC POETS
565
One of the hardest problems in his biography is to establish the date
of his death. If circulating rumours are sifted, we are left with a range
of dates from 540 to 597 (1145-1201), a period of almost sixty years.
The foremost Iranian scholars are working on the solution of this
problem. One clue is offered by the conjunction of the seven planets,
with Saturn in Libra, a celestial occurrence which was regarded by
astrologers and especially by Anvari as the portent of a cataclysm of the
first order. The terrified population of Balkh abandoned their homes and
fled to the woods and mountains in the hope of finding some refuge
there from the hurricane that was supposedly threatening, while on the
critical day, 29 Jumādā II 582 (15 August 1186), the flame of the little
lamp on the minaret did not even flicker. Events justified those who
disagreed with Anvari, e.g. the poet Zahir Faryabi, and the resulting
scorn must inevitably have injured Anvari's reputation. Embittered, he
retired to complete solitude, writing nothing more, and died either in
583/1187-88, or, more probably, in 585/1189-90.
Lyric poetry was completely reformed by this poet of genius. It
might be added that he practised poetry in all its forms, though as a
court poet he favoured the qasida. Though appreciating the masters of
this style, he was well aware that it was static and inflexible in both form
and expression, and he set about taking it apart and reshaping it. He did
not regard its traditional sequence as sacrosanct, and was fond of begin-
ning with praise of the person to be eulogized and then passing on to
another subject. The customary types of exordium vanish, their lyrical
qualities being allowed to appear wherever they like. He does not attach
any particular value to romantic feelings, not even in a dialogue between
a lover and his beloved; amorousness is obviously not identical with
passion, it conceals something else: it is directed at the person eulo-
gized. To create lyrical episodes he had recourse either to descriptions of
nature, in which he was most successful, or to philosophical reflexions.
He was a master of description, be it of personal experiences (his
crossing of the Oxus) or of public happenings (the catastrophe brought
about by the Ghuzz, 548/1153).
His language, too, departed from tradition. He could not help making
use of the ornaments provided by poetics, and his command of the
whole range of rhetoric was perfect; but here too he was in search of
something new. He was no lover of trifling play with words and
letters; instead he delighted in tropes, metaphors, similes, and allusions.
He seldom, however, sacrificed a thought to a rhetorical embellishment.