Rādūyānī’s Tarjumān al-Balāgha and the Fashioning of Persian Rhetorical Identity

From the tenth to the early twelfth centuries, the eastern Islamicate world underwent a cultural transformation as Persian-speaking dynasties, such as the Samanids (204–389/819–999) and Ghaznavids (366–582/977–1186), rose to prominence.Footnote ³ This period of political decentralization and cultural efflorescence gave rise to a Persian literary renaissance, blending Islamic universalism with a revitalized Persian identity. It was within this context that Muhammad ibn ʿUmar Rādūyānī (d. 514/1120) composed Tarjumān al-Balāgha (Interpretation of Eloquence), the earliest known Persian rhetorical manual. His work represented a pivotal moment in Persian literary history, asserting Persian as a language of intellectual and artistic sophistication at a time when Arabic dominated intellectual discourse.Footnote ⁴

In my reading, Rādūyānī’s Tarjumān signified not only the emergence of Persian rhetoric as a distinct discipline but also reflected the active role of Persian scholars in shaping broader Islamic literary traditions.Footnote ⁵ Figures like ʿAbd al-Qāhir al-Jurjānī (d. 471/1078) in works such as Dalāʾil al-Iʿjāz (Proofs of the Inimitability [of the Qurʾān]) and Asrār al-Balāgha (Secrets of Eloquence) contributed to the development of Arabic literary discourse, particularly in the context of the Qurʾān and its linguistic and rhetorical features.Footnote ⁶ At the same time, other scholars and anthologists began to extend this discourse by turning their attention to Persian-speaking poets who wrote in Arabic. This shift was exemplified by figures like Nasr ibn Hasan al-Marghīnānī (d. mid-to-late fifth/eleventh century), who composed Mahāsin al-Kalām (The Beauties of Speech), a manual on Arabic rhetoric, and anthologists like Abū Mansūr al-Thaʿālibī (d. 429/1039) and Ali ibn al-Hasan Bākharzī (d. 467/1075), who celebrated bilingual poets in works such as Yatīmat al-Dahr (The Unique Pearl of the Age) and Dumyat al-Qasr (The Statue of the Palace).Footnote ⁷ Al-Thaʿālibī and Bākharzī focused on anthologizing Arabic poetry by both Persian and Arab poets; their anthologies underscored the interconnectedness of Arabic and Persian literary cultures.

Rādūyānī’s contribution represented a decisive departure from previous lines of thought. Unlike these scholars, who articulated rhetorical concepts in Arabic, he sought to theorize rhetoric directly in Persian. In this way, he not only extended the shared Islamic literary project into a new linguistic domain but actively shaped Persian itself into an authoritative medium for rhetorical thought.Footnote ⁸ The Tarjumān demonstrated his ambition to establish Persian as an autonomous field of rhetorical scholarship. Along with contemporaries such as Abū al-ʿAlāʾ-i Shūshtarī, he codified Persian rhetorical devices for a Persian-speaking audience, challenging the linguistic dominance of Arabic and asserting Persian’s intellectual authority.Footnote ⁹ Through this project, Rādūyānī bridged the gap between Persian literary production and scholarly analysis, contributing to a reconfiguration of the Islamicate literary landscape as a multilingual and inclusive space that encompassed regional intellectual traditions.

Rādūyānī articulates his intellectual vision most explicitly in the preface to the Tarjumān, in which he critiques the Arabic dominance of rhetorical scholarship and asserts the capacity of Persian as a medium of learned discourse. He writes:

In this passage, Rādūyānī critiques the prevailing reliance on Arabic as the sole language of rhetorical scholarship, pointing out that these treatises serve only a limited, Arabic-literate audience and fail to provide Persian speakers with comparable tools for analyzing their own literary production. The fact that he can name only two figures, Abū Yūsuf and Abū al-ʿAlāʾ-i Shūshtarī, is itself revealing, pointing to the scarcity of Persian scholarly writing in this field at the time.Footnote ¹¹ This critique highlights the intellectual marginalization of Persian and underscores the need to establish a distinct Persian rhetorical framework. His work therefore constitutes a direct response to earlier Persian scholars who, despite their significant contributions to Arabic literary discourse, paid little attention to developing Persian as a language of literary and scholarly analysis. In doing so, Rādūyānī’s intervention participates in a broader linguistic and cultural shift in Persian literary history, one that Chalisova describes as a “gradual transition from bilingualism to monolingualism” in Persian literary culture.Footnote ¹²

This ambitious project was not simply the product of Rādūyānī’s individual initiative; it was made possible through courtly patronage, which played a crucial role in promoting Persian as a medium of intellectual and artistic expression. In the preface, Rādūyānī expresses a wish for his patron’s name to be permanently remembered, noting that his patron ordered the work to be copied and distributed so that his name would remain “on the tongues of all” (bar sar-i zavān-hā) and “fresh among the courts forever” (mīyān-i divān-hā tāza bāshad).Footnote ¹³ Paradoxically, despite this explicit wish, the patron’s name is nowhere mentioned. Instead, Rādūyānī identifies him only as fulān (someone), a vague designation that produces a striking paradox: a project intended to immortalize the patron instead leaves him nameless.Footnote ¹⁴ Yet Rādūyānī also calls him sadr, a title denoting high administrative rank, and uses the phrase dīvān-hā (courts), further situating his work within the bureaucratic milieu of official culture.Footnote ¹⁵ Although the reasons for the omission remain unclear, this absence should not obscure the crucial role of patronage in the production, circulation, and reception of the Tarjumān. More broadly, the movement to establish Persian as a scholarly language vis-à-vis Arabic was likewise sustained through such courtly and institutional support, rather than by individual initiative alone.

Rādūyānī’s decision to write in Persian was both linguistic and methodological, signaling his intention to translate and reshape Arabic rhetorical theory so that it could account for the distinctive poetics of Persian literature. But how did he undertake this act of translation and reshaping? The preface offers an important clue: he structured his work according to the organizational model of Nasr ibn al-Hasan al-Marghīnānī’s Mahāsin al-Kalām, a text he regarded as authoritative.Footnote ¹⁶ He stated:

In this statement, Rādūyānī explicitly acknowledges his reliance on Nasr ibn al-Hasan al-Marghīnānī’s organizational structure and interpretive approach (tafsīr). The term tafsīr, while evoking its traditional use in Qurʾānic exegesis, signifies a methodological emphasis on interpretation and conceptual elucidation, moving beyond the formal classification of rhetorical figures. By grounding his work in al-Marghīnānī’s interpretive framework, Rādūyānī positions himself within an interpretive rhetorical tradition, signaling his intention to adapt its framework for Persian literary purposes. This is effectively a translation of an interpretation, revealing the layered hermeneutic nature of his project. Rādūyānī’s choice of al-Marghīnānī’s text as his model is significant at both the historical and intellectual levels. Al-Marghīnānī, a Persian scholar from Central Asia, composed his treatise in Arabic. By adopting his framework rather than relying on canonical Arabic rhetoricians such as ibn al-Muʿtazz, whose work he knew and cited only occasionally, Rādūyānī̄ affiliated himself with a scholarly lineage of Persian origin operating within Arabic literary culture. The Tarjumān emerges not as a direct translation of Arabic rhetoric but as a continuation and transformation of a Persian-inflected intellectual enterprise.

Finally, Rādūyānī’s comment on his title reveals another layer of his rhetorical strategy. He explains that he named the treatise Tarjumān al-Balāgha because “every book is recognized by its title and its outward presentation” (zāhir-i hāl). The choice of Tarjumān (translator or interpreter) is deliberate: it positions the work within Arabic rhetorical discourse while foregrounding its role as a mediator between Arabic and Persian literary cultures. In this way, the title itself functions as a rhetorical device, encapsulating his dual aim: integrating Arabic rhetorical concepts into Persian while affirming the distinctive authority of Persian literary tradition. The title enacts the very project the text undertakes: interpreting and reframing Arabic rhetorical knowledge for a Persian-speaking scholarly audience.

Rādūyānī adapts al-Marghīnānī’s framework but departs in two distinctive ways. First, he broadens the scope of rhetorical study by cataloging seventy-three literary devices—more than twice the thirty-three found in al-Marghīnānī’s work.Footnote ¹⁸ This substantial expansion does more than just add terms; it actively constructs a more comprehensive system for analyzing Persian poetry. Although some of these additional terms may have been drawn from existing poetic practices, others appear to be his own formulations, demonstrating both innovation and deep engagement with Persian literary aesthetics. By formalizing these devices within a structured framework, Rādūyānī preserves and advances the study of literary eloquence in Persian.

Second, and perhaps more significantly, Rādūyānī shifts the focus of rhetorical analysis away from al-Marghīnānī’s Qurʾān-centered framework and toward Persian poetry as its primary object of study.Footnote ¹⁹ As William Smyth observes, the Tarjumān represents an effort to “Persianize” ʿilm al-balāgha (the science of rhetoric) by translating its terminology and anchoring it in Persian poetic examples, serving as a tool for students of Persian poetry who lacked Arabic training.Footnote ²⁰ Yet Rādūyānī’s project goes beyond translation. By curating a corpus of examples primarily drawn from Persian poetry, he reinterprets ʿilm al-balāgha through a distinctly Persian lens. This critical intervention laid the groundwork for a Persian rhetorical tradition that could stand in dialogue with its Arabic counterpart.

One of the clearest instances of this reorientation appears in Rādūyānī’s treatment of the Qurʾān. As Philip Halldén notes, ʿilm al-balāgha was initially designed to facilitate Qurʾānic exegesis, particularly through iʿjāz al-Qurʾān (the inimitability of the Qurʾān), which celebrates its divine eloquence.Footnote ²¹ Rādūyānī, however, reframes this tradition. Although the Qurʾān appears in his work, he does not position it as the ultimate model of eloquence, as is typical in Arabic rhetoric. Instead, he treats it as a source of proverbial wisdom, aligning it with Persian literary expressions. For example, he draws rhetorical parallels between certain Qurʾānic verses and Persian proverbial sayings to illustrate that Persian rhetorical traditions possess an inherited eloquence comparable to Arabic. To illustrate this elevation, he includes a section titled fī taqrīb al-amthāl bi-al-āyāt (On the Alignment of Proverbs with Qurʾānic Verses), which he defines as discerning correspondences between Persian proverbs and Qurʾānic verses in their proper context. In this section, he provides examples that highlight conceptual parallels, effectively bridging Persian cultural wisdom and Qurʾānic teachings.Footnote ²² For instance, he compares the Persian expression کار خدای کن تا خدا کار تو کند (Do God’s work so that God will do yours) with Qurʾān 2:40, أَوْفُوا بِعَهْدِی أُوفِ بِعَهْدِکُم (Fulfill My covenant that I may fulfill your covenant).Footnote ²³ Likewise, he juxtaposes بذکردار بذاندیش بود (A villainous person is mistrustful) with Qurʾān 42:22, وَتَرَى الظَّالِمِینَ مُشْفِقِینَ مِمَّا كَسَبُوا (You will see the wrongdoers fearful because of what they have earned). By placing the Persian proverb before the Qurʾānic verse, Rādūyānī subtly signals a rhetorical equality between the two. Such pairings do not undermine the Qurʾān’s unique status as divine revelation; instead, they position Persian literary contributions as integral to the broader Islamic intellectual framework. In this way, Tarjumān opens a space for Persian to participate in the tradition of Islamic eloquence.

Building on this approach, Rādūyānī further develops his method in the subsequent section, fī maʿnī al-āyāt bi-al-abyāt (On the Meaning of the Qurʾānic Verses Through Poetry), in which he turns to Persian poetry to show how it can articulate and echo Qurʾānic meanings.Footnote ²⁴ In this section, he first presents a Qurʾānic passage and then provides a Persian poetic example that parallels or elaborates on its message. For instance, Qurʾān 39:30, إِنَّكَ مَيِّتٌ وَإِنَّهُمْ مَيِّتُون (You are mortal, and they are mortal [too]), is mirrored in the Persian verse by Rūdakī:

By structuring these two sections to alternate between placing Persian expressions before Qurʾānic verses and Qurʾānic passages before Persian poetry, Rādūyānī highlights the reciprocal relationship between Persian and Arabic literary traditions. The pairing suggests that although Qurʾānic verses may have influenced Persian poetry, the Persian literary and rhetorical traditions also offer their own interpretive depth. Instead of a one-way flow of influence, this arrangement allows for a dialogue between the two traditions, suggesting a mutual literary exchange within the broader Islamic intellectual world. Furthermore, Rādūyānī’s departure from Arabic rhetorical tradition is evident in his selective use of Arabic poetry, prose, and Qurʾānic references, citing them sparingly rather than comprehensively. Although he occasionally integrates Arabic examples, as in his discussions of tarjuma (translation) and mulammaʿ (a multilingual poem), in which Arabic material is indispensable to illustrate the concept, such cases are few and often appear alongside Persian equivalents.Footnote ²⁶ This pattern of selection results in a counterbalancing Arabic rhetorical precedence without rejecting Arabic influence outright. His approach also extends to translating Arabic expressions into Persian, replacing ibn al-Muʿtazz with pisar-i Muʿtazz (son of Muʿtazz) and fī-nafsihī with bi tan-i khīsh (personally). In doing so, he minimizes the use of Arabic, preferring Persian equivalents that would have been more familiar to his intended audience. Notably, he adapts the traditional Arabic Bismillāh al-Rahmān al-Rahīm (In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful) to the Persian bi nām-i īzad-i bakhshāyanda-yi bakhshāyishgar (In the name of God, the Forgiving and Merciful), a choice that reflects a broader tendency in Persian intellectual circles to articulate Persian linguistic and cultural identity within an Islamic framework.Footnote ²⁷ As William Smyth rightly suggests, this measured approach to linguistic autonomy may resonate with intellectual currents associated with Shuʿūbiyya thought on Persian intellectual self-definition.Footnote ²⁸

Beyond advancing Persian as a language of scholarship, Rādūyānī played a pivotal role in the rhetorical canonization of Persian poetry. Much like Asadī Tūsī (d. 465/1073), who used his Lughat-i Furs (Persian Lexicon) to preserve and codify Persian words through poetic examples, Rādūyānī tried to formalize Persian rhetorical principles by drawing on the poetic tradition. Both scholars contributed to shaping a literary canon that reinforced the intellectual and artistic prestige of Persian literature.Footnote ²⁹ As Rebecca Gould convincingly argues, this choice “marked a new moment in Persian literary consciousness” by breaking the division that reserved Persian for poetry and Arabic for scholarship.Footnote ³⁰ Within this new literary moment, Rādūyānī’s project responded to the lack of a rhetorical and critical apparatus in Persian, despite the language’s flourishing poetic tradition. By filling this gap, he articulated a coherent rhetorical system in Persian for the classification and analysis of literary devices, thereby contributing to the redefinition of linguistic hierarchies and positioning Persian as a legitimate medium for intellectual discourse.

This approach enables Rādūyānī to identify, document, and define rhetorical devices that were already practiced among Persian poets but lacked formal recognition within Arabic frameworks. His contributions are evident in his treatment of literary figures such as taʿajjub (amazement) and suʾāl va javāb (question and response), which he codified and integrated into Persian rhetorical discourse. For example, he defines taʿajjub as a technique in which “a poet banishes speech from its familiar place and establishes it in an alien place” (kay shāʿir sukhan rā az mahall-i āshināyī chinīn nafy kunad va bi mahall-i bīgāna sābit kunad), describing the poet’s ability to disrupt conventional expectations and recontextualize the familiar.Footnote ³¹ This definition, rich with interpretive possibilities, frames taʿajjub as a device rooted in dislocation, absence, and the inexplicable, reflecting Persian poetry’s emphasis on imagination and intellectual engagement.Footnote ³² Similarly, suʾāl va javāb captures the dynamic rhetorical interplay of questions and answers in Persian poetic practice.Footnote ³³ Through these interventions, Rādūyānī bridges the Arabic and Persian rhetorical traditions, laying a foundation for Persian literary criticism.

Furthermore, Rādūyānī’s Tarjumān actively contributes to the construction and contextualization of Persian literary history. By elaborating on concepts like talāʾum (harmony) and dividing poets into mutaqaddimīn (ancients) and mutaʿakhkhirīn (moderns), he aims to trace the lineage of Persian poetry. This chronological division places Persian poetry within a long-standing literary tradition that parallels the Arabic rhetorical tradition, which separates pre-Islamic (Jahili) poets from their contemporary counterparts.Footnote ³⁴ However, Rādūyānī recasts this framework within Persian poetics, privileging the moderns for their poetic consistency, stylistic development, and greater maturity in the craft of poetry, rather than valorizing antiquity. He articulates this perspective by highlighting the importance of talāʾum (consistency) in the following passage, arguing that a poet should maintain a consistent poetic manner to achieve eloquence:

As shown in the passage above, Rādūyānī emphasizes talāʾum in poetry as a fundamental criterion of literary excellence.Footnote ³⁶ He employs it as a critical lens to trace the development of Persian poetry and to distinguish between earlier, less uniform compositions and the more refined works of later poets. He argues that a poet must maintain a consistent poetic style to ensure the smoothness and unity of the verses. For Rādūyānī, this emphasis on consistency serves not only as an aesthetic principle but also as a measure of originality. Plagiarized poetry, in his view, often lacks the cohesive linguistic flow of original compositions, with stylistic inconsistencies betraying the hand of an imitator. Therefore, talāʾum becomes a dual marker of both aesthetic mastery and creative authenticity, reflecting the poet’s ability to produce work that is both harmonious and uniquely their own. In this manner, he sets a standard for poetic originality, asserting that true mastery resides in maintaining uniform excellence throughout the poem.

He employs the paired concepts of talāʾum (consistency) and tafāvut (discrepancy) to trace the stylistic progress of Persian poetry.Footnote ³⁷ He associates tafāvut with the earlier generation of poets, whose works display unevenness and variation, and contrasts this with the later poets, who embody talāʾum through their stylistic coherence and refinement.Footnote ³⁸ By framing the development of Persian poetry through these terms, Rādūyānī effectively constructs a critical vocabulary for literary history, positioning talāʾum as a marker of poetic maturity and tafāvut as a feature of formative experimentation.

Rādūyānī’s treatment of these critical categories extends beyond mere stylistic classification, revealing a broader historical and evaluative agenda. By introducing the categories of mubtadī (originators) and muqtadī (followers), he intervenes in a contemporary misreading that regarded tafāvut as a deliberate stylistic preference (mazhabīst bi shāʿirī). Instead, he clarifies that the unevenness found in the works of early poets reflects the formative stage of Persian poetic practice, not a conscious aesthetic choice. As pioneers, these poets were establishing new expressive possibilities in Persian; inconsistency was a natural by-product of innovation. Later poets, by contrast, working within established conventions, were better able to achieve talāʾum—stylistic coherence and refinement.

This framework enables him to reconcile historical appreciation with critical evaluation. He excludes earlier, less consistent works from the Tarjumān to codify a canon of exemplary poetry for pedagogical and critical use. Yet he simultaneously acknowledges the pioneers as the foundational pillars of the Persian poetic tradition, whose groundbreaking role he views as essential to its development. Building on this historical foundation, Rādūyānī elevates ʿUnsurī (d. 1039/1040) as an ideal poet, presenting him as the model of pure and consistent composition.Footnote ³⁹ In doing so, he fashions a literary standard that embodies technical mastery and stylistic harmony. This move reflects a broader cultural project: to define and preserve the aesthetic values of Persian literature while situating them within a historical narrative of progress. By critically evaluating both early and later poets, he constructs a framework that honors the past while articulating refined standards for future generations—a sophisticated vision that positions the Tarjumān as more than a catalog of rhetorical devices but as an instrument of literary history.

In this context, Tarjumān al-Balāgha represents a pivotal moment in the formation of Persian literary criticism. Rādūyānī’s work articulates a historical and critical framework that both honors Persian poetic pioneers and sets refined standards for future generations. By adapting Arabic rhetorical terminology to Persian literary contexts, elevating Persian poetic models, and asserting Persian as a language of scholarship, he redefines the intellectual relationship between Arabic and Persian traditions. This intervention lays the foundations for a dynamic literary discourse, one that evolves through sustained engagement with Arabic rhetoric rather than in isolation. It is on this foundation that later scholars, most notably Rashīd al-Dīn Vatvāt (d. 578/1182), develop and at times contest Rādūyānī’s project, further shaping the trajectory of Persian rhetorical thought.

Shams-i Qays’s al-Muʿjam: Integrating Theology and Rhetoric

Vatvāt closes the preface to Hadāʾiq by expressing an ambitious desire to compose a comprehensive work on the ʿilm-i shiʿr (science of poetry). He writes: “If divine decree aligns with human desire, I will create a book encompassing all aspects of the science of poetry, from prosody and terms (alqāb), to rhyme and the merits and defects of poetry.”Footnote ⁶⁰ This statement reveals that the idea of a systematic, encyclopedic treatment of poetic knowledge was already emerging in the rhetorical discourse of the twelfth century, even if Vatvāt himself never fulfills it. A few decades later, Shams-i Qays (hereafter Shams) achieves this earlier aspiration through his treatise al-Muʿjam fī Maʿāyīr-i Ashʿār al-ʿAjam (The Compendium in the Standards of Persian Poetry). Unlike Vatvāt’s approach, however, Shams’s work is exclusively devoted to Persian poetry, as indicated by the title’s reference to “Ashʿār al-ʿAjam” (Persian poetry), setting clear expectations for its scope.Footnote ⁶¹ In doing so, Shams presents prosody, rhyme, and rhetoric within a unified framework of Persian literary criticism, marking a significant step in the systematization of Persian literary criticism.

He started writing al-Muʿjam in Merv around 1218, but parts of the work were lost during the Mongol invasion. He later recovered some portions and completed the text in Shiraz around 1228 to 1230 under the patronage of the Salghurid prince Atabak Abubakr ibn Sa‘d-i Zangī (r. 1226–60).Footnote ⁶² The text emerged not merely as a continuation, but also as an important advancement in Persian poetic theory and rhetorical eloquence.Footnote ⁶³ The Salghurid court, renowned for its active cultivation of Persian culture and scholarship, provided an ideal intellectual setting for such a project. Within this stable and intellectually vibrant environment, Shams was finally able to complete the project he had begun in Merv, expanding it into a comprehensive synthesis of the poetic and rhetorical sciences. This achievement made al-Muʿjam a microcosm of the adabīyyāt (literary sciences), encompassing a wide range of subjects within a single, coherent framework.Footnote ⁶⁴

The emergence of al-Muʿjam also coincided with the broader development of adabīyyāt as a comprehensive field of study during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. In this period, adabīyyāt did not simply denote “literature” in its modern sense; it referred to a constellation of literary sciences (ʿulūm-i adabī), including grammar, rhetoric, prosody, and poetics, all of which were integral to the mastery of speech (sukhan).Footnote ⁶⁵ The expanded scope of literary knowledge signaled a new phase in Persian intellectual culture, one that integrated multiple sciences under the unifying category of adab. This intellectual shift was reflected in key works produced in Shiraz, particularly those commissioned by Shah Shaykh Abū-Ishāq Injū (r. ca. 1343–57).Footnote ⁶⁶

One notable example is Nafāʾis al-Funūn fī ʿArāʾis al-ʿUyūn (The Delicacies of Sciences in the Lovely Realms of Springs), a Persian encyclopedic work composed by Shams al-Dīn Muhammad Āmulī (d. 753/1353) in 742/1341. Āmulī explicitly identifies adabīyyāt, or its counterpart ʿulūm-i adabī, as a principle branch of Islamic learning, encompassing a wide range of subjects within the literary arts.Footnote ⁶⁷ Around the same time, Shams-i Fakhrī Isfahānī, in his rhetorical manual titled Miʿyār-i Jamālī va Miftāh-i Abū-Ishāqī (The Standard of Beauty and the Key of Abū-Ishāq), written in 744–45/1343–44, underscores the importance of acquiring knowledge of adabīyyāt for rhetoricians and critics, further solidifying its status as a central field of study.Footnote ⁶⁸

By the fourteenth century, adabīyyāt had advanced into a broader and more inclusive field, encompassing not only the technical aspects of poetry but also a wider range of disciplines considered essential for literary excellence. The concept of adabīyyāt was neither fixed nor uniform but adaptable and responsive to different scholarly and cultural contexts. This was evident in the varying lists of sciences provided by scholars like Āmulī and Shams-i Fakhrī. Whereas Āmulī included religiously oriented sciences such as the science of hadith (ʿilm al-hadīth) and the science of interpretation (ʿilm-i tafsīr), Shams-i Fakhrī focused more narrowly on literary and rhetorical sciences, including the science of prosody (ʿilm-i ʿarūz) and the science of figurative language (ʿilm-i bayān).Footnote ⁶⁹ These differences reflected both the conceptual flexibility of adabīyyāt and the diverse intellectual priorities of scholars shaped by the institutions and audiences they served.

Within this expanding constellation of adabīyyāt, Shams-i Qays’s al-Muʿjam fī Maʿāyīr-i Ashʿār al-ʿAjam occupies a pivotal, transitional place. The very title of his work reveals much about its intellectual ambitions. The term al-Muʿjam evokes the encyclopedic and systematizing spirit characteristic of the adabīyyāt tradition, and the specification fī Maʿāyīr-i Ashʿār al-ʿAjam (“on the standards of Persian poetry”) marks a decisive narrowing of focus compared with earlier rhetorical manuals such as Rādūyānī’s Tarjumān al-Balāgha and Vatvāt’s Hadāʾiq al-Sihr. By explicitly centering Persian poetry, Shams signals both a continuation of the encyclopedic impulse and a new assertion of Persian literary identity within the literary sciences.

At the same time, however, the apparent clarity of this title conceals a paradox at the heart of Shams’s project. On the surface, the title of al-Muʿjam explicitly signals a focus on Persian poetry. Yet beneath this clear commitment to Persian lies a more complex engagement with Arabic, which emerges in two interrelated ways. First, in his initial decision to compose the treatise in Arabic, and second, in his effort to define and regulate Persian poetic innovation through the conceptual framework of Arabic literary norms, a move that often serves to delegitimize the innovations of Persian poets working within their own traditions. In effect, Shams elevates Arabic from a medium of literary discourse to the supreme arbiter of Persian literary value.

In the preface to al-Muʿjam, Shams acknowledged that he initially wrote the text in Arabic.Footnote ⁷⁰ This choice provoked resistance from the Shirazi literary circle, who objected that “the work was founded upon the Arabic language” (banā-ʾi īn taʾlīf bar lughat-i tāzī ast).Footnote ⁷¹ Their insistence that he rewrite it in Persian was not merely a matter of accessibility; it reflected a shifting balance of authority between scholars steeped in Arabic learning and poets who defined Persian literary practice within their own cultural sphere. By compelling him to relinquish Arabic, they asserted the agency of the poets’ community, the primary audience of rhetorical manuals, over the scholar’s philological and intellectual orientation. This episode marked more than a change in language: it signaled a shift in cultural authority, as the centers of Persian literary production moved from the bilingual scholarly milieus of Khurasan to the vibrant poetic circles of Shiraz. It also illustrated a wider trend of the thirteenth century, in which Persian writers sought to consolidate the literary and intellectual legitimacy of Persian while remaining in dialogue with the prestige of Arabic learning.

By the thirteenth century, Persian had firmly established itself as a dominant literary language across Iran, Central Asia, and North India. This shift created an increasing demand for rhetorical and poetic treatises composed in Persian rather than in bilingual or Arabic formats. In this context, Shams’s reluctant shift from Arabic to Persian mirrored a broader intellectual transformation in which Persian scholars asserted the literary and scholarly legitimacy of their own language. A key example of this transition is Muhammad ʿAwfī’s Lubāb al-Albāb (Essence of Hearts), the first Persian poetic anthology, completed ca. 618/1221 in India, structured to celebrate Persian poets and their patrons.Footnote ⁷² Unlike earlier literary anthologies, such as Yatīmat al-Dahr by al-Thaʿālibī and Dumyat al-Qasr by Bākharzī, which included Persian poets within the framework of Arabic literary history and often reflected a bilingual milieu, Awfī’s Lubāb was composed entirely in Persian. This shift signaled both the stability of Persian as a literary medium and also reflected a broader confidence in Persian as a self-sufficient vehicle for literary evaluation and historical memory. In this sense, ʿAwfī’s anthology embodied the same cultural momentum that shaped Shams’s eventual decision to recast his own treatise in Persian.

A closer examination shows that, for Shams, Arabic was more than just a conventional scholarly tool; it was a strategic claim to intellectual authority. In his view, Persian was not an autonomous scholarly medium but a literary tradition requiring validation through Arabic’s intellectual framework. This was starkly revealed in the hierarchical language in which he identified Arab poets as “creators” (mukhtariʿ) and Persians as “followers” (tābiʿ), “transmitters” (nāqil), and “dependents” (nā-mustaqil). This hierarchy, framed Arabic as the authoritative and generative tradition, and Persian as imitative and secondary one.Footnote ⁷³

Shams’s intellectual stance is further shown by his harsh treatment of Persian poetic contributions. He labels Persian poets’ attempts to innovate in prosody with pejorative terms, dismissing their adaptations as “ignorance” (jahl) and “weak-mindedness” (sikhāfat-i ʿaql), and condemns their innovations as “lifeless terminology” (tasmīyāt-i bārid), “useless divisions” (taqsīmāt-i bātil), “abominable and obscene meters” (awzān-i mustaqbih-i mustahjan), and “completely invalid interventions” (tasarrufī nīk fāsid).Footnote ⁷⁴ Through this dismissive framework, Shams not only supports Arabic’s intellectual superiority but also seeks to restrain development of a self-sufficient Persian literary tradition.

De Bruijn acknowledges that Shams’s framework remained “inadequate because of its subservience to the categories of Arabic poetics,” yet he also describes Shams as moving “further into the direction of an unbiased examination” of Persian poetry than other traditional rhetoricians.Footnote ⁷⁵ This measured assessment, however, risks overlooking the deeper ideological asymmetry that structures Shams’s work: the persistent framing of Arabic as the normative standard and Persian as derivative within the literary sciences. Shams did employ Persian examples, but his evaluative framework was still deeply shaped by Arabic poetics, revealing a persistent preference for Arabic literary traditions over Persian. Although de Bruijn is right to stress Shams’s comparative openness, Shams’s rhetoric remained far from impartial.

This hierarchy of Arabic over Persian reflects both Shams’s intellectual training in a scholarly culture that had long privileged Arabic as well as his personal commitment to sustaining it. As William Smyth argues, this approach can be understood as the continued dominance of Arabic in scholarly contexts, in which its technical terminology and historical prestige made it the default language for serious intellectual inquiry.Footnote ⁷⁶ This explanation rightly captures the institutional dimension of Shams’s intellectual world and helps clarify why Arabic remained the benchmark of scholarly legitimacy even as Persian gained literary autonomy. Similar to Vatvāt, whose mindset was shaped by centuries of Arabic dominance in rhetorical theory, Shams maintained a traditionalist view that positioned Arabic as the original source of eloquence, even as Persian literary practice expanded its scope. Yet their approaches diverged in important ways: Vatvāt regarded Arabic primarily as a model of eloquence, reflected in his illustrative choices and adherence to Arabic rhetorical conventions, whereas Shams went further, explicitly theorizing the supremacy of Arabic as an established intellectual paradigm.

Shams advanced this inherited hierarchy further by grounding it in Islamic theological principles, transforming what in Vatvāt’s work had remained primarily rhetorical into a system of moral and doctrinal regulation. This perspective reflected not only a deeper intellectualization of Arabic’s dominance but also an effort to situate literary criticism within Islamic exegetical traditions (ta’wīl), prioritizing moral and theological content over purely formal or stylistic concerns. By invoking theological and legal concepts, Shams established clear boundaries for poetic creation. Imagination and innovation were permissible only insofar as they remained within the moral and doctrinal boundaries established by divine law. This exegetical orientation becomes particularly evident in his critique of the following poem of Manūchihrī:

The significance of this line lies in the poet’s comparison of his patron, Shah Masʿūd, to Anūshīrvān, whom the Prophet was believed to have praised for his justice. Shams critiques the underlying meaning (maʿnī) of this comparison rather than its literal wording (lafz). He rejects the possibility that the Prophet could have praised a nonbeliever (kāfir). Instead, he argues that the hadīth “I was born at the time of a just king” (أنا وُلِدتُ في زمنِ الملكِ العادلِ) should be read as the Prophet’s thanksgiving to God, who ordained his birth during a reign marked by justice.Footnote ⁷⁸ Shams believes that because the Prophet did not even claim his own sovereignty over humanity, he would not have praised a non-Muslim ruler.

This tension is especially evident when set against Shams’s own rhetorical practice. In the preface to al-Muʿjam, he compares his patron, Abū Bakr ibn Saʿd Zangī, to Anūshīrvān, portraying him as a just and benevolent ruler.Footnote ⁷⁹ Such a comparison is acceptable, and even advantageous, within the conventions of panegyric, when invoking Anūshīrvān’s reputation enhanced the prestige of a contemporary king. Yet when the Prophet is invoked, Shams draws a sharp boundary: the Prophet cannot be associated with a ruler he regards as an infidel. The contrast shows that Shams tolerates rhetorical appeals to Anūshīrvān in a courtly context but subordinates them to theological orthodoxy whenever prophetic authority is at stake.

Even though Shams worked within a scholarly culture in which literary and religious sciences were interconnected, he gave theological reasoning distinctly evaluative authority in poetry. In that regard, his rejection of the Prophet’s supposed praise for Anūshīrvān was not an isolated critique but part of a larger evaluative principle encapsulated in his notion of tark-i adab-i sharʿī (abandoning shariʿa etiquette), which he listed among the “undesirable qualities of verse” (awsāf-i nāpasandīda dar kalām-i manzūm), alongside flaws in rhyme and logical contradictions.Footnote ⁸⁰ By doing so, he treated violations of religious decorum not only as moral concerns but as aesthetic faults, integrating theological boundaries directly into the evaluative framework of literary criticism.

The term awsāf-i nāpasandīda applies to instances in which literary and rhetorical texts neglect or transgress religious decorum, whether through exaggeration (ghuluv), irreverent comparisons, or inappropriate metaphors.Footnote ⁸¹ Although Shams does not define the concept systematically, he demonstrates its scope through examples, showing that poetry must remain within the boundaries of religious values. One example is seen in his critique of a verse by Amīr Muʿizzī:

Despite the verse’s literary elegance, Shams considers it blasphemous, and writes:

This judgment follows the same theological logic as his critique of the Prophet being linked to Anūshīrvān because he was a nonbeliever; poetic imagery that violates religious decorum, however artful, remains theologically impermissible. For Shams, the meaning and thematic content of a poem must align with Islamic principles, even if its stylistic or rhetorical elements demonstrate artistic merit. Within this context, poetic excellence is insufficient if the content transgresses religious norms. Such transgressions are not merely aesthetic excesses but moral failings that compromise both the poet’s integrity and the spiritual well-being of the audience. By insisting on this alignment, Shams imposes strict limits on poetic imagination to ensure its conformity with religious orthodoxy. Ultimately, he frames poetry as a domain governed by faith, where theological integrity takes precedence over literary quality.

Although Shams’s Muʿjam exerted lasting influence on the technical study of Persian poetics, the specifically theological dimension of his rhetorical theory found little resonance among later scholars.Footnote ⁸⁴ To my knowledge, only two later rhetoricians, both religious scholars, took up his notion of tark-i adab-i sharʿī: Mullā Muhsin-i Fayz-i Kāshānī (d. 1090/1679) and Shams al-ʿUlamā Garakānī (d. 1305/1927).Footnote ⁸⁵ Beyond these isolated instances, his reception centered almost entirely on prosody and metrics. This selective engagement was exemplified by Shams-i Fakhrī Isfahānī, who in Miʿyār-i Jamālī praised the Muʿjam as an authoritative source on meter and rhyme but disregarded Shams’s views on rhetorical figures, instead treating Rashīd Vatvāt as the definitive authority.Footnote ⁸⁶ Such responses reveal that later critics reinterpreted Shams’s work within a purely literary framework, detaching his technical insights from their original religious context.

At the same time, beyond the Persian heartlands of Shiraz and Khurasan, the literary milieu of North India offered a markedly different response to Shams’s efforts to theorize the supremacy of Arabic in the poetic tradition. Although this relationship had long been defined through the intellectual and theological supremacy of Arabic, Indian Persianate scholars and poets actively reinterpreted it in ways that emphasized Persian’s own creative and cultural authority. Among them, Amīr Khusraw Dehlavī (d. 725/1325) played a pivotal role in redefining Persian not just as a poetic language but as a medium of literary authority. In Ghurrat al-Kamāl, Khusraw acknowledged Arabic’s religious supremacy (fazīlat-i sharʿī) as the language of the Qurʾān. Yet, he simultaneously asserted Persian’s poetic supremacy (fazīlat-i shiʿrī), positioning the two not in opposition but in distinct, complementary spheres.Footnote ⁸⁷ By articulating this binary between Islamic law (sharʿ) and poetry (shiʿr), Khusraw preserved Arabic as the medium of divine revelation and jurisprudence while elevating Persian as the vehicle of artistic imagination and poetic expression. In this formulation, Persian no longer relied on Arabic for intellectual validation but claimed its own autonomous domain of authority within the broader Islamic ecumene.

Khusraw’s formulation is striking not only for the distinction it draws but also for the rhetorical balance with which he defends it. By acknowledging Arabic’s religious supremacy, its undeniable authority as the language of revelation, he limits Arabic’s supremacy to the sacred realm, thereby creating an avenue for Persian to assert its dominance in poetry. Recognizing the potential controversy of this assertion, he insists that he speaks not “out of hostility or arrogance” (taʿannut va taghayyur).Footnote ⁸⁸ Nevertheless, he boldly proclaims Persian’s superiority on technical grounds: its sophisticated metrical system, the distinctive use of radīf (a repeated phrase at the end of each verse), and a lexical richness that allows for layered meanings.Footnote ⁸⁹ Through this reasoning, Khusraw honors the sanctity of Arabic while simultaneously challenging its literary primacy, positioning Persian as the unrivaled medium of poetic expression. In this way, Khusraw offers a sharp counterpoint to Shams. He not only reverses the hierarchy that Shams had theorized but also inaugurates a new phase in Indo-Persian literary thought, one in which Persian emerges as the language of both artistic innovation and cultural synthesis.

Sayf-i Jām’s Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ: Codifying Style and Literary Innovation

The intellectual transformation initiated by Khusraw significantly influenced the literary landscape of North India, where Persian increasingly came to be seen not only as a language of poetic innovation but also as a vehicle for cultural synthesis.Footnote ⁹⁰ His perspective on the poetic superiority of Persian opened up new avenues for subsequent scholars to further explore its rhetorical and aesthetic dimensions. Among these scholars was Sayf-i Jām (hereafter referred as Sayf), who, in the mid-fourteenth century, engaged deeply with Khusraw’s ideas. He is known for his treatise Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ va al-Awzān (A Compilation of the Devices and the Meters), which serves as a notable effort to highlight Persian poetic practice more explicitly than previous manuals.

The true identity of Sayf remains somewhat elusive, as he identifies himself only as an author (musannif) and poet of praise and eloquence (sanā-sarā-yi sukhan-āray) in his work.Footnote ⁹¹ He has been identified as ʿĀshiq (lover) in Faqīr-i Dehlavī’s Hadāʾiq al-Balāgha, which suggests that this may have been his poetic pen name.Footnote ⁹² Despite the ambiguity surrounding his name and limited premodern references, his contributions to Persian literary criticism, particularly through Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ, underscore the originality of his perspective and highlight its importance for understanding the development of Persian poetics in North India. Adapting the framework of earlier rhetorical manuals, Sayf reorients it toward a historical perspective, tracing how Persian poets developed and refined literary devices across successive periods. This methodology creates an interconnected framework that weaves together rhetoric, stylistics, and prosody, demonstrating Persian’s growing confidence as an independent literary language.

In his preface, Sayf expressed that his motivation for writing Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ stemmed from a pivotal moment in his career. After presenting an innovative panegyric poem at an assembly hosted by Fath Khān (d. 777/1376), the crown prince and son of Sultan Fīrūz Shah Tughlaq (r. 1351–88), Sayf received significant acclaim for the poem’s originality.Footnote ⁹³ Fath Khān’s encouragement inspired him to explore the complexities of poetry and rhetorical devices, ultimately resulting in a manual designed as both a guide for connoisseurs (khavās) and a thorough resource for the study of Persian poetics.Footnote ⁹⁴ This recognition enhanced Sayf’s confidence and also solidified his standing within the courtly literary milieu of his time.

Sayf explicitly articulates his ambition to create a rhetorical manual that is so comprehensive and accessible that it could reduce or even eliminate the need for a teacher or supplementary commentary.Footnote ⁹⁵ This aspiration is reflected in his decision to use only his own verses as examples, declaring: “I brought nothing borrowed here, for no shame could be worse than that.”Footnote ⁹⁶ Indeed, apart from the section on poetic flaws (maʿāyib), Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ draws exclusively on his own poetry.Footnote ⁹⁷ Such reliance on self-authored examples marks a decisive departure and represents a critical shift from earlier conventions, when rhetorical treatises routinely quoted canonical poets to illustrate aesthetic principles.

Yet Sayf’s approach was not without precedent. A similar tendency appeared in the work of Shams-i Fakhrī, who, writing in Isfahan only a few decades earlier, claimed that nearly all the examples in his Miʿyār-i Jamālī were his own compositions.Footnote ⁹⁸ Although the two authors differed in context and purpose, their shared emphasis on self-authored verse signaled a broader transformation in the function of rhetorical manuals. No longer merely didactic compendia, such works became instruments of poetic self-legitimation, allowing their authors to canonize their own compositions as models of eloquence and authority. This development invites further questions about motivation: was this self-referential mode primarily a gesture of poetic self-promotion, an assertion of authority, or an attempt to redefine the function of the rhetorical manual itself?

In Sayf’s case, this shift signifies not only personal ambition but also his immersion into the courtly and literary culture of his time. Unlike Shams-i Fakhrī, who sought patronage by explicitly invoking the name or title of Shah Abū Ishāq Īnjū within his poetic examples, Sayf was already well integrated into the courtly environment of Fath Khān.Footnote ⁹⁹ Within this context, his decision to compose Jāmiʿ al-Sanāyiʿ as a self-sufficient and original manual was not merely a gesture of poetic confidence; it was a performance of literary authority. By relying almost entirely on his own compositions, he transformed the rhetorical treatise from a repository of inherited material into a demonstration of rhetorical mastery. In doing so, Sayf redefined the manual as a site of self-authorizing creativity, in which the poet’s own voice served simultaneously as proof and embodiment of theoretical insight.

Sayf’s commitment to originality went beyond his choice to cite only his own poetry; he also broadened Persian literary discourse by introducing new rhetorical terms. His innovations responded to the emerging need for categories that could capture the evolving nuances of Persian poetry. For example, he formalized concepts such as aesthetic sensibility (zawq), dullness (khushk), and convergence of two intellects (iltiqā-yi khātirayn), elevating them from descriptive observations into systematic elements of rhetoric.Footnote ¹⁰⁰ Furthermore, he gave sharper definition to issues that earlier critics had noticed but left unnamed. For instance, he introduced the term silliness (himāqat) to describe similes that degrade rather than elevate their subject, such as comparing a warrior’s bravery to that of a pig.Footnote ¹⁰¹ Although critics like Shams-i Qays observed similar problems, they did not classify them as distinct flaws with precise terminology.Footnote ¹⁰² By formalizing such concepts, Sayf enriched the Persian rhetorical tradition and strengthened its critical vocabulary, allowing it to adapt more flexibly to new literary currents.

Sayf organized his treatise into four main sections, offering a systematic account of Persian poetics. The first section addressed the principles of prosody and rhyme, while the second and third sections focused on the merits and flaws of poetry. The fourth section explored poetic styles (tarz-hā-yi nazm) and complex vocabulary (kalimāt-i mushkil), including middle Persian (pahlavī) terms. Conceived as both a poetic and pedagogical enterprise, the treatise represented a synthesis of Arabic rhetorical theory and Persian literary practice. Sayf drew upon foundational Arabic works such as al-Qazwīnī’s Talkhīs al-Miftāh and al-Sakkākī’s Miftāh al-ʿUlūm, while incorporating Persian rhetorical insights from Vatvāt’s Hadā’iq and Rāmī Tabrīzī’s Haqāʾiq al-Hadāʿiq.Footnote ¹⁰³ Yet he also incorporated the distinctive insights of contemporary scholars and poets across the Persian literary world, weaving their innovations into his own theoretical framework.Footnote ¹⁰⁴ In doing so, Sayf not only consolidated earlier rhetorical learning but also demonstrated a conscious commitment to advancing Persian rhetorical thought by giving voice to contemporary poetic innovation and incorporating recent stylistic developments. His treatise advanced a vision of Persian poetics as a self-sufficient, evolving discipline capable of generating its own critical vocabulary and aesthetic principles.

Sayf’s work also transcended mere rhetorical critique by integrating theoretical elements that encompassed genre, style, and the development of poetic forms. A distinguishing feature of his treatise was the inclusion of difficult words (mushkil) from Persian (Pārsī) and Pahlavi, along with their meanings. This intervention was significant as it moved beyond a straightforward description of linguistic change to offer a reflective, almost methodological perspective on language within literary practice. Instead of treating obsolete vocabulary as a detriment, he reframed it as a vital key to understanding earlier literary works. He explained that earlier poets and writers used words from their own regions and times, and many had since fallen out of common usage (az tadāvul dūr va mahjūr uftāda).Footnote ¹⁰⁵ For example, he noted that the Pahlavi terms hūr and shīd (meaning sun) were later replaced with khurshīd and āftāb.Footnote ¹⁰⁶ This approach reflected the changing aesthetic and social sensibilities of later writers, who opted for terms that resonated more deeply with their audiences. However, rather than dismissing these older terms as irrelevant, Sayf contended that understanding them was essential for interpreting earlier literary works.

Moreover, his systematic categorization of archaic words, beginning with divine and celestial terms and then progressing to more earthly and tangible elements, demonstrated a nuanced understanding of language as a reflection of the cosmic order. This structure not only contributed to the preservation of linguistic heritage but also emphasized the interconnectedness of language, culture, and cosmology. By documenting and elucidating obsolete terms, Sayf ensured that the linguistic and cultural heritage of earlier periods remained accessible to future generations, effectively bridging the gap between past and present in Persian literary history. In doing so, he portrayed language as an evolving yet recoverable system, in which the past and present were interconnected rather than entirely discrete.

More importantly, just as he systematized the vocabulary of poetry, he also addressed its stylistic dimensions. His treatment of tarz (style) embodied the same ambition to codify and organize Persian poetics, marking a significant advancement in Persian literary criticism by transforming what had previously been regarded as intuitive and poetic expression into a formalized and categorized system. As I have discussed elsewhere, Sayf identified nine distinct types of tarz, demonstrating an intellectual commitment to analyzing and organizing the various components of Persian poetry.Footnote ¹⁰⁷ This shift not only provided poets and critics with a more transparent framework for analyzing poetry but also reflected the growing intellectualization of literary discourse within the Persianate world. His approach therefore represented both a continuation and a refinement of earlier concepts, striving to establish a more structured framework that resonated with the intellectual currents of his time.

Sayf’s treatment of tarz is intricately linked to the poetic and intellectual legacy of Amīr Khusraw, whom he acclaims as the “King of Poets” (Khusraw-yi Shāʿirān).Footnote ¹⁰⁸ Within his ninefold classification of tarz, however, Khusraw occupies a unique position. Whereas other poets are grouped under abstract stylistic types, such as virtuous (fāzilāna) or philosophical (hakīmāna), Khusraw becomes the basis for a distinct and personal category, tarz-i Khusrawāna. With this move, Sayf does more than admire Khusraw; he reconfigures the very logic of his system by allowing an individual poet to define a mode of style. This act of naming transforms Khusraw from an example within a framework of poetic styles into a paradigm that reshapes the framework itself. In doing so, Sayf introduces a new way of conceptualizing literary style, one that is not only descriptive but canonizing, capable of elevating a poet to the status of aesthetic principle.

To support this point, he highlights Khusraw’s exceptional ability to master multiple modes simultaneously, positioning him as an exception to the pattern he describes in the following passage:

This passage is significant not only for the framework of styles it articulates but also for the evaluative vocabulary it employs. The ancients are credited with kamāl (perfection) in a single domain and regarded that specialized excellence as their jamāl (aesthetic ideal). The moderns, by contrast, are portrayed as dependent on imitation, presenting themselves as followers of specific figures rather than as innovators in their own right. Within this framework, Khusraw emerges as the exceptional figure who unites mastery with innovation across the full spectrum of styles. The sovereignty metaphor, “he made all styles his undisputed domain,” positions him not merely as a poet but as a sovereign in the symbolic realm of literature, whose authority encompasses the entire repertoire of poetic forms. By presenting Khusraw as one who both commands all styles and produces “remarkable inventions and extraordinary innovations,” Sayf elevates him into a critical category that redefines poetic greatness and reshapes the very terms of literary history.

Sayf’s analysis makes clear that Khusraw’s originality did not emerge in isolation but rather through a dynamic engagement with the legacy of his predecessors. He catalogs earlier masters such as Anvarī, Zahīr Fāryābī, Saʿdī, Nizāmī, and others, each linked to a particular domain of poetic excellence, whether eloquence, ornamentation, narrative, or ghazal.Footnote ¹¹⁰ Khusraw’s achievement, however, lies in appropriating and surpassing these specialized traditions: he gathers the distinctive virtues of each earlier style and weaves them into a single, expansive poetics. In Sayf’s account, Khusraw’s originality is cumulative as well as innovative, integrating the achievements of the ancients while transforming them into a comprehensive vision of poetic mastery. The result is not merely another poetic style but a sovereign synthesis that redefines the criteria of excellence. For Sayf, Khusraw embodies the ultimate aim of poetry itself—the balance of tradition and invention, mastery and creativity.

For Sayf, Khusraw’s achievement represents a pivotal turning point in the history of Persian literature. Through his remarkable verbal artistry and semantic depth, Khusraw created works that were both linguistically sophisticated and intellectually transformative.Footnote ¹¹¹ In this view, Khusraw completes a journey left unfinished by his predecessors, ultimately emerging, as framed by Sayf, as the apex of Persian poetic innovation. His exploration of tarz not only acknowledges Khusraw’s extraordinary contributions but also transforms them into a critical framework that challenges and expands the boundaries of poetic creation.

Last, in this account, Khusraw is presented not as one more accomplished poet but, in Sayf’s framing, as the paradigmatic figure through whom the standard of poetic mastery is reimagined. What is decisive here is not Khusraw’s brilliance taken in isolation; rather, it is Sayf’s interpretive act of elevating him into a category of style, referred to as tarz-i Khusrawāna. By turning a single poet into a critical framework, Sayf shifts the terms of literary evaluation: style becomes not only descriptive but canonizing, capable of enshrining an individual as the embodiment of poetic mastery itself. In doing so, he not only secures Khusraw’s place at the center of Persian poetics but also articulates a distinctly Indo-Persian vision of literary criticism, one that integrates style, authority, and cultural identity, and positions Sayf as a pivotal figure in the genealogy of Persian rhetoric.