Bid’ah al-Kabirah grew up as a slave in the ninth–century Abbasid caliphate. But she wasn’t a slave like slave men laboring in rags at dirty, dangerous jobs. She was the slave of ‘Arib al-Ma’muniyyah, a fabulously rich and famous ninth-century woman musician.[1] Bid’ah lived with ‘Arib in the household of the caliph. Bid’ah was a beautiful woman and an excellent singer. Most importantly, she knew how to lift up a despondent man.
In the year 900 GC, the caliph al-Mut’adid returned to Baghdad from a difficult but successful military campaign in Syria. Bid’ah greeted him the first day he held court upon his return. Al-Mut’adid, perhaps not up to his usual sexual performance, lamented to her his aging: “Can’t you see how my beard and hair blaze white?” Bid’ah responded:
My lord, may God give you eternal life, and let you see your grandsons’ hair turn white! By God, your silvery hair is more beautiful than the moon. [2]
Bid’ah, who was no unlettered whore, then quickly composed and declaimed a relevant poem:
White hair has done you no harm
your beauty has only increased.
Time has polished you
and you are without flaw.
In the year 900 GC, the caliph al-Mut’adid returned to Baghdad from a difficult but successful military campaign in Syria. Bid’ah greeted him the first day he held court upon his return. Al-Mut’adid, perhaps not up to his usual sexual performance, lamented to her his aging: “Can’t you see how my beard and hair blaze white?” Bid’ah responded:
My lord, may God give you eternal life, and let you see your grandsons’ hair turn white! By God, your silvery hair is more beautiful than the moon. [2]
Bid’ah, who was no unlettered whore, then quickly composed and declaimed a relevant poem:
White hair has done you no harm
your beauty has only increased.
Time has polished you
and you are without flaw.