Biography of Samuel ha-Nagid
Samuel ibn Naghrela , also known as Samuel HaNagid , (born 993 - died after 1056), was a Talmudic scholar, grammarian, philologist, poet, warrior, and statesman, who lived in Iberia at the time of the Moorish rule.
Born in Mérida, his main poetic works include "Ben Tehillim" (Son of Psalms), "Ben Qoheleth" (Son of Ecclesiastes), and "Ben Mishlei" (Son of Proverbs), each of which imitates the "father work". His choice of poetic themes reflected his myriad occupations and personal world-view, including poems describing the battlefield using the analogy of a game of chess, poems speaking of the great beauty of nature, of which there are numerous, etc. His power in word choice of poetic portrayal of nature rivals that of the other great Jewish poets, namely ibn Saruk. He founded the Yeshiva that produced such brilliant scholars as R' Yitzhaq ibn Ghiath and R' Maimon ben Yosef (father of Maimonides). The "Introduction to the Talmud" is erroneously attributed to Shmuel.
He fled Córdoba when the Berbers took the city in 1013. For a while he ran a spice shop in Málaga, but eventually he moved to Granada, where he was first tax collector, then a secretary, and finally an assistant vizier to the Berber king Habbus al-Muzaffar.
When Habbus died in 1038, Samuel HaNagid made sure that his son Badis succeeded him. In return, Badis made Hanagid his vizier and top general, two posts which he held for the next seventeen years.
HaNagid's son Joseph ibn Naghrela inherited those jobs. Some Muslims accused Joseph of using his office to benefit Jewish friends, assassinated him, and launched a massacre of Granada's Jews the next day (December 31, 1066).
Kfar HaNagid, a moshav in modern Israel was named after him.
Samuel ha-Nagid Poems
I Look Up To The Sky .
I look up to the sky and the stars, And down to the earth and the things that creep there. And I consider in my heart how their creation
I stationed a strong force in a citadel Which soldiers had destroyed long ago. We slept there, in it, and around it,
Man Runs Towards The Grave
Man runs towards the grave, And rivers hasten to the great deep The end of all living is their death, And the palace in time becomes a heap.
My friend, tell me, When shall I pour you my wine? The cry of the cock woke me, And sleep has deserted my eyes.
The Power Of The Pen
Man's wisdom is at the tip of his pen, His intelligence is in his writing. His pen can raise a man to the rank
Two Bouts Of Woe
Consider how shameful rejoicing is, Since it comes between two bouts of woe. You wept when you came into this world,
The Power Of The Pen
Man's wisdom is at the tip of his pen,
His intelligence is in his writing.
His pen can raise a man to the rank
That the scepter accords to a king.