Scarcely less celebrated than the story of Majnun and Layla—­among the Arabs, at least—­is that of the poet Jamil and the beauteous damsel Buthayna.  It is said that Jamil fell in love with her while he was yet a boy, and on attaining manhood asked her in marriage, but her father refused.  He then composed verses in her honour and visited her secretly at Wadi-’l Kura, a delightful valley near Medina, much celebrated by the poets.  Jamil afterwards went to Egypt, with the intention of reciting to Abdu-’l Aziz Ibn Marwan a poem he had composed in his honour.  This governor admitted Jamil into his presence, and, after hearing his eulogistic verses and rewarding him generously, he asked him concerning his love for Buthayna, and was told of his ardent and painful passion.  On this Abdu-’l Aziz promised to unite Jamil to her, and bade him stay at Misr (Cairo), where he assigned him a habitation and furnished him with all he required.  But Jamil died there shortly after, A.H. 82 (A.D. 701).

The following narrative is given in the Kitabal-Aghani, on the authority of the famous poet and philologist Al-Asma’i, who flourished in the 8th century: 

A person who was present at the death of Jamil in Egypt relates that the poet called him and said:  “If I give you all I leave after me, will you perform one thing which I shall enjoin you?” “By Allah, yes,” said the other.  “When I am dead,” said Jamil, “take this cloak of mine and put it aside, but keep everything else for yourself.  Then go to Buthayna’s tribe, and when you are near them, saddle this camel of mine and mount her; then put on my cloak and rend it, and mounting on a hill, shout out these verses:  ’A messenger hath openly proclaimed the death of Jamil.  He hath now a dwelling in Egypt from which he will never return.  There was a time when, intoxicated with love, he trained his mantle proudly in the fields and palm-groves of Wadi-’l Kura!  Arise, Buthayna! and lament aloud:  weep for the best of all thy lovers!’” The man did what Jamil ordered, and had scarcely finished the verses when Buthayna came forth, beautiful as the moon when it appears from behind a cloud.  She was muffled in a cloak, and on coming up to him said:  “Man, if what thou sayest be true, thou hast killed me; if false, thou hast dishonoured me!” [i.e. by associating her name with that of a strange man, still alive.] He replied:  “By Allah!  I only tell the truth,” and he showed her Jamil’s mantle, on seeing which she uttered a loud cry and smote her face, and the women of the tribe gathered around, weeping with her and lamenting her lover’s death.  Her strength at length failed her, and she swooned away.  After some time she revived, and said [in verse]:  “Never for an instant shall I feel consolation for the loss of Jamil!  That time shall never come.  Since thou art dead, O Jamil, son of Mamar! the pains of life and its pleasures are alike to me.”  And quoth the lover’s messenger:  “I never saw man or woman weep more than I saw that day.”—­Abridged from Ibn Khallikan’s great Biographical Dictionary as translated by Baron De Slane, vol. i, pp. 331-326.