Rhetorical Transformation in the Qurʾān and Pre-Islamic Poetry: A Comparative Analysis of Space, Animal, and Natural Figures

Abstract

This study examines how selected place names, animal figures, and natural elements are used rhetorically in the Qurʾān and pre-Islamic Arabic poetry. It explores the rhetorical strategies associated with these elements, their frequency in pre-Islamic poetry, and their transformation within Qurʾānic discourse. Particular attention is given to how the Qurʾān reinterprets such figures, whether it assigns them new semantic layers, and what depth of meaning these usages convey. The study focuses on the Qurʾān and the Mu’allaqāt—the most prominent collection of pre-Islamic odes—and identifies semantic differences rooted in rhetorical style between the two traditions. While the Qurʾān employs a metaphor- and simile-rich narrative style, pre-Islamic poetry tends toward a direct, descriptive mode of expression. The symbolic function of landscape, animal, and cosmic imagery is analyzed in this context. Pre-Islamic poetry typically portrays the world as it is, often grounding meaning in the immediacy of the desert environment. In contrast, the Qurʾān embeds similar elements within a broader metaphysical framework, imbuing them with theological significance. The central aim is to investigate how the Qurʾān engages with and transforms the literary legacy of pre-Islamic poetry, and what rhetorical mechanisms it employs in this process. Thus, the study contributes to understanding the Qurʾān’s rhetorical structure and narrative method considering its linguistic and cultural context.

1. Introduction

It is a widely accepted view in academic literature that language, the cornerstone of oral culture, has multiple functions. Its main functions include communicative (interpersonal interaction), informative (information transfer), and expressive (expression of feelings and thoughts) functions (Eddin and Shiyab 2017, p. 4). One of the oldest and most established genres of Arabic literature, pre-Islamic poetry, was shaped within the tradition of oral culture and became an essential form of expression that reflected the social structure, values, and aesthetic understanding of the period. These poems are texts of high aesthetic value. They convey the language, social life, and natural characteristics of the environment in which the poets lived—almost like a documentary—with vivid descriptions. In particular, they also reflect an implicit moral code based on murū’ah/murūwwah (manly virtue), ḥilm (deliberate self-control), and ‘irḍ (honor), which form a complex ethical landscape distinct from later Islamic conceptions of dīn. These ethical dimensions are explored in depth by Nadia Jamil (for example, Jamil 2017, pp. 3–24, 93–147). These texts’ traces of an abandoned campsite symbolize the beginning of pre-Islamic Arabic poetry. These traces herald the loss of the beloved, the spring rains, and the blossoming meadows of an idealized past. Stetkevych argues that the description of the abandoned campsite (nasīb) in the mu’allaqa functions as part of a ritualized poetic sequence, symbolizing a separation from society and initiating the poet’s journey of transformation (Stetkevych 1993, pp. 3–4). As she further explains, “the Qurʾān and the classical Arabic ode (qaṣīdah) form the literary cultural foundation of Arab-Islamic civilization” and often share rhetorical strategies that “preserve and stabilize the essential panegyric (poetic) or salvific (Qurʾānic) message” (Stetkevych 2017, p. 2). This foundational connection provides the comparative framework adopted in this study. At the same time, they encourage the remembrance of what has been lost and call it back. This poem today corresponds to a similar transformative experience: these poetic voices, marked by vivid evocations of absence and memory, reflect a temporal transcendence that contributes to their enduring aesthetic and cultural resonance (Sells 1989, p. 3). These poems have been an essential reference source in the creation of works on Arabic grammar and rhetoric over the approximately fourteen centuries from the birth of Islam to the present day; indirectly, they have retained their status as an indispensable basic source in various Islamic sciences, especially exegesis (Ceviz et al. 2004, p. 7).

Pre-Islamic poetry is a literary form that does not follow a rigid structural framework. There is no strict unity between the poem’s sections, nor is there a specific structural framework. However, pre-Islamic poetry displays a strong attachment to its elements. The poet establishes a deep connection with everything he embraces. By using elements from their world, poets create a spiritual, vital, and narrative atmosphere. Therefore, the frequent repetition of the same themes is a natural consequence of the nature of poetry. From another perspective, pre-Islamic poetry is a literary genre that reflects the social and cultural structure of the period. In this context, it has an intuitive quality and is intensely woven with concrete similes and images. Poetry, which was not created within a specific composition, emerged spontaneously and was passed down from one generation to the next as part of oral culture. Pre-Islamic poetry, which captivates with its dynamic, transitional, and mobile structure, embodies a rhythm-based understanding of lyricism in its compositional logic. When examining the primary objective of the pre-Islamic poet, it becomes clear that the aim was not to transform life, but to emphasize and reflect it as it truly is (Suçin 2020, pp. 14–16). While this perspective highlights the descriptive fidelity of the poetic voice, another layer of meaning emerges in Stetkevych’s interpretation of the qaṣīda—not as a fragmented sequence of themes, but as a coherent rite of passage. Structured around nasīb (separation), raḥīl (liminality), and fakhr (reintegration), this tripartite form transforms the individual experience of the poet into a communal and symbolic act (Stetkevych 1993, pp. 7–8).

Considering these characteristics, it can be said that pre-Islamic poetry is a powerful product of oral literature that reflects the socio-cultural structure and individual emotional world of the period. The improvisational and rhythm-based structure of poetry ensures its preservation in memory and transmission from generation to generation. At the same time, the material metaphors and images it contains provide essential clues for understanding the aesthetic sensibilities of the period. Pre-Islamic poetry can be evaluated as both a literary and historical source within this framework. Studies that use poetry as a direct document to describe pre-Islamic society accept it as a representation of historical reality without maintaining a critical distance from the text, and thus tend to transform the emotions and ideas it contains into social indicators without interpretation (Brown 2003, p. 31). For example, generosity and hospitality—two of the highest values in society—were often praised in pre-Islamic poetry as public affirmations of tribal honor (‘irḍ) and virtue (murūʾah). As Jamil argues, these were not isolated values but part of an interlocking ethical framework that structured pre-Islamic tribal life and poetic expression (Jamil 2017, pp. 115–71). Poets have exalted hosts who, even in years of famine, slaughtered their camels for their guests, lit fires on dunes to guide travelers, and even protected their enemies as exemplary models of virtue (Ḍayf n.d., p. 68). Such acts of hospitality and blood-vengeance, Stetkevych contends, were not merely ethical but sacrificial, functioning as a tribal rite of redemption embedded in the poetic form (See Stetkevych 1993, pp. 55–83).

Although pre-Islamic poetry includes elements such as praise, satire, elegy, ghazal, fakhr (self and tribal praise), and ḥamāsah (martial valor or heroic poetry), one of its most important themes is waṣf (description). Indeed, description constitutes the majority of the themes in Arabic poetry (see also Sumi 2004, pp. 1–17, 19–20 for a modern critical and interartis-tic reappraisal of waṣf in the Arabic poetic tradition). In Description in Classical Arabic Poetry: Waṣf, Ekphrasis, and Interarts Theory, Akiko Motoyoshi Sumi defines description (waṣf) as a central and complex feature of classical Arabic poetry, particularly the qaṣīda tradition, where it functions not merely as pictorial or mimetic representation, but as a symbolic, rhetorical, and often spiritual device that contributes to the thematic unity and aesthetic structure of the poem (Sumi 2004, chap. ix–x). Rejecting Orientalist critiques that dismissed Arabic poetry as atomistic or overly descriptive, Sumi argues that waṣf carries emblematic and psychological depth, serving as an expressive medium that conveys emotion, ideology, and cultural identity (Sumi 2004, pp. 1–4). This rejection is echoed by Stetkevych, who challenges the ‘string of pearls’ model and instead argues that the paratactic structure of the pre-Islamic qaṣīda reflects a ritual logic, grounded in the symbolic power of oral performance (Stetkevych 1993, p. 5). Citing the medieval critic Ibn Rashīq al-Qayrawānī (d. 456/1064), she notes that “all poetry, except for small portions, is attributable to the category of waṣf,” which underscores its pervasiveness in Arabic poetic discourse (Sumi 2004, p. 5). Sumi further compares waṣf to the classical rhetorical concept of ekphrasis, which originally meant “clear and distinct description” but has evolved in modern interarts theory to signify the verbal representation of non-verbal arts such as painting, music, or architecture (Sumi 2004, pp. 6–8). Thus, in Sumi’s framework, waṣf emerges not as ornamental or secondary, but as a fundamental poetic device that unites form and meaning across genres and historical periods.

Description is the depiction of the sensory or spiritual characteristics of beings or the mention of any object or its current state. For this reason, many poetry critics, with few exceptions, state that poetry is based on description. Ibn Rashīq also considers hunting, nature poetry, and Arabic poetry to be forms of descriptive poetry (Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya 1981, vol. 2, pp. 294–96). These poems contain detailed descriptions of elements such as the physical beauty of the beloved, the deserted abodes, nature, war, weapons of war, wine, horses, wild oxen, the desert, night, rain, clouds, lightning, and camels (Çetin 2019, pp. 67–77; for detailed information on descriptive poetry in Arabic literature, see Demirayak 2009, pp. 145–51). The lightning motif, in particular, occupies a central position in pre-Islamic poetry, often signaling longing, separation, or transition. Ali Ahmad Hussein has analyzed this topos extensively, showing that lightning scenes (maqāṭi’ al-barq) carry not only meteorological but also symbolic, erotic, and spatial significance, functioning as thresholds between poetic sections and as metaphors of yearning and divine signs (Hussein 2009, pp. 79–104).

Rhetoric, which forms the central focus of this study, is a classical discipline concerned with the aesthetic, persuasive, and practical use of language. As Abū-Yaʻqūb al-Sakkākī (d. 626/1229) explains in Miftāḥ al-’Ulūm, it encompasses the speaker’s mastery in conveying meanings by giving linguistic structures their due and employing simile and metaphor in their proper forms, ranging from its lowest level—mere animal sounds when deprived of eloquence—to its highest, the Qurʾān’s inimitable eloquence (i’jāz) (Al-Sakkākī 1987, pp. 248, 315–16). In the Arabic literary tradition context, its two most prominent expressions are found in pre-Islamic (Jāhiliyyah) poetry and the Qurʾān. Both exemplify the Arabic language at its highest level, demonstrating remarkable linguistic precision and profound semantic depth. As Stetkevych observes, both the Qurʾān and the qaṣīda employ elevated rhetorical registers. However, while the Qurʾān constructs a divine ethos and conveys a salvific message, the qaṣīda performs a ritual of tribal self-definition and social reintegration through poetic language (Stetkevych 1993, pp. xi–xii). Indeed, Ibn Khaldūn (d. 808/1406) points to this fact, stating that the Qurʾān was revealed in Arabic and with rhetorical possibilities that appeal to both intellect and emotion regarding wording and meaning (Ibn Khaldūn 2005, vol. 2, pp. 363–64). Although Jāhiliyya poetry and the Qurʾān share a rhetorical and figurative framework, significant differences exist in the function and purpose of their imagery and the meanings constructed. In particular, it is noteworthy that descriptions of space, animals, and nature in pre-Islamic poetry served primarily intuitive and aesthetic purposes, but are re-shaped in the Qurʾān as signs of divine truth and as vehicles of moral reflection (see Sumi 2004, pp. 1–8, 122–25 for discussion of how wasf evolves from mimetic to symbolic description across classical and Abbasid poetry). This transformation reflects a deeper ethical reconfiguration, as the Qurʾān redefines inherited notions such as ḥilm and jahl—terms central to Jāhilī ethics—within a divine moral framework (dīn). Japanese scholar Toshihiko Izutsu was among the first to trace this semantic and moral evolution, noting that jahl means rashness, arrogance, ignorance, and a whole attitude of rebellion against God. At the same time, ḥilm becomes a divine virtue—closely tied to God’s patience and forbearance (Izutsu 2002, pp. 28–29). This analysis was later expanded by Nadia Jamil, particularly in her exploration of the ethical realignment of pre-Islamic poetic vocabulary (Jamil 2017, pp. 207–38, 323–38). A comparable transformation is observed in the panegyric qaṣīdas analyzed by Suzanne Stetkevych, where figures like Sulaymān are mythically reconfigured to serve both poetic and political functions. She argues that such rhetorical structures establish a “mythic concordance” between sacred archetypes and contemporary Arab rulers, legitimizing political authority through poetic form (Stetkevych 2017, p. 9).

There is a clear and fundamental distinction between the Qurʾān and poetry. The text of the Qurʾān is neither a “poem” in the classical sense nor belongs to the prose genre familiar to the Arabs of the Jāhiliyya period, which consisted of speeches, saj’, or concise expressions. As Ṭāhā Ḥusayn (1889–1973) stated, the Qurʾān is neither poetry nor prose; it is simply the Qurʾān. Due to this uniqueness, Muslims have considered it extremely important to distinguish between the concepts used about the Qurʾānic text and the terms associated with poetry. In this context, it has been thought that the “rhyme” in poetry corresponds to the “fāṣila” in the Qurʾān; the “bayt” corresponds to the “āya”; and the “qaṣīda” corresponds to the “sūra” (Ebû Zeyd 2001, p. 175).

In addition, many words found in pre-Islamic Arabic poetry are also used in the Qurʾān and exhibit similarities in meaning, indicating essential linguistic and historical connections. First, this situation reveals that the words in the poems in question were eloquent and understandable to the people of that period. Furthermore, there is no significant time gap between the period in which the poems were written and the revelation of the Qurʾān, indicating that the Arabic language did not undergo substantial changes in vocabulary and style. Ultimately, these similarities confirm that the poems originate from the pre-Islamic period. Therefore, these data support the continuity of the language and the authenticity of early Arabic poetry (Dadkhah 2014, p. 117). Extensive scholarship on this subject has already been produced in Western academia, particularly by Angelika Neuwirth, Devin J. Stewart, and Toshihiko Izutsu. These scholars have explored the relationship between the Qur’an and pre-Islamic (Jāhilī) poetry through various dimensions such as rhetoric, thematic content, semantics, tone, and stylistic devices. Their contributions offer diverse perspectives within the broader cultural and religious transformation discourse. We are confident that, building on their findings, the Qur’an employs the lexical and stylistic repertoire familiar to its first audience, but within a profoundly novel conceptual and spiritual framework. The familiar words between the Qurʾān and the poems written during the Jāhiliyya period can be seen as evidence confirming that these poems truly belong to the pre-Islamic period. Indeed, the fact that some exegetes quote from pre-Islamic poetry to better understand the meaning of the verses is another strong piece of evidence confirming that these poems belong to that period (Dadkhah 2014, p. 118).

This study will indirectly provide clues as to whether the understanding of poetry influenced the Qurʾān at the time of its revelation and, if so, to what extent. Indeed, Ali Ahmad Hussein, who addresses this issue in his article “Poetry and the Qurʾān,” states that the verses of the Qurʾān were not directly influenced by poetry, but that the repetition of certain expressions in the verses may point to some of the formulaic sentence structures or discourse patterns that were common in pre-Islamic poetry. Ultimately, since the Qurʾān aims for a higher level of eloquence than the poetry known to pre-Islamic Arabs, its use of poetic patterns is not surprising (Hussein 2023, p. 9).

The relationship between the Qurʾān and poetry has been shaped on a dialectical basis, rooted in fundamental ideas and concepts established in pre-Islamic Arab culture. This relationship contains both similarities and distinct differences (Ebû Zeyd 2001, p. 176). For example, the Qurʾān draws particular attention to the fact that some of the parables and metaphors it uses, similar to those found in pre-Islamic poetry, are merely representations of the events described, with the phrase “their parable is like that of so-and-so” [Q2:17–19; Q62:5], (Eren 2001, p. 58). However, the Qurʾānic concept of taskhīr—according to which all creatures are created for human use—has also been the subject of critical reevaluation. As Sarra Tlili points out, “Although the Qur’an states that everything God has created is for humankind (taskhīr), this interpretation is not the only possible one... the Qur’an also affirms that animals worship God and possess their relationship with Him, which complicates a purely instrumental reading” (Tlili 2012, p. 70). According to Elmalılı (1878–1942), who addresses this aspect of the issue, throughout history, the nature of truths that can be grasped by reason has been explained and generalized through representations without evidence in some religions. These representations were followed by processes of shaping (tarsīm) and embodiment (tajsīm) over time; thus, the original abstract meanings were forgotten, and material symbols and idols became the focus of sanctity. However, the Qurʾān followed a method that advanced the human mind from the level of representation to the awareness of truth, from metaphor to verification. By placing clear and distinct signs between representation and verification, it prevented the mixing of truth and falsehood and preserved the unity of meaning while expressing metaphysical truths through symbols (Yazır 1935, vol. 1, pp. 244–45).

The following sections of this study aim to examine the rhetorical transformation of the relevant symbols, depictions, and representations through a comparative method and to identify shifts in meaning between the two types of text.

2. Imagery of Animals, Nature, and Place in the Qurʾān and the Mu’allaqāt

In pre-Islamic Arabic poetry, depictions of place, animals, and the natural world are central in conveying personal emotions and collective values. These motifs map elements of the external environment onto the human condition, endowing them with ethical and emotional significance. Poets frequently employed images such as deserted encampments, wild animals, and harsh landscapes to articulate enduring themes of love, loss, heroism, and existential struggle.

Beyond their aesthetic appeal, these representations symbolize how individuals navigate adversity and how communities affirm their core values. They reflect personal experience and inscribe shared ideals—particularly those related to resilience and honor—into the cultural memory.

When the linguistic structure of sacred texts is examined, it is seen that these texts construct a unique religious language and discourse (Tokat 2009, p. 76). Indeed, for a style to be spiritual, it must have an effect in the context of belief, in addition to its historical and anthropological characteristics. Furthermore, the expression used must, first and foremost, reflect a comprehensive and fundamental attitude toward life that transcends everyday contexts; secondly, this attitude must be related to an object that directs the individual’s attachment and submission. Therefore, the subject matter of religious language is primarily composed of theological expressions such as the existence and nature of God, the relationship between God and humanity, and the relationship between God and nature (Koç 1998, pp. 16–22).

The Qurʾān employs various literary devices—such as parables, similes, allegories, and figurative expressions—in the construction of its religious language. In the parable genre, a didactic aspect of the Qurʾān, the guiding element is predominant. The numerous similes in the Qurʾān appear in various contexts and encompass both concrete and abstract subjects. For example, figurative images such as the rolling up of the heavens like a scroll [Q21:104], the scattering of people like moths, and the likening of mountains to carded wool [Q101:4–5] in descriptions of the Day of Judgment often share a similar framework with the classical Arabic narrative tradition. However, the Qurʾān sometimes goes beyond this tradition with original similes that have a lively, even harsh, humorous aspect, creating unique forms of expression. Many of these similes are based on the Arabs’ experiences of desert life, reminiscent of the style of pre-Islamic poetry. The use of figurative analogy in the Qurʾān is more prevalent than that of simile. In expressing spiritual and metaphysical issues, the use of bodily functions as figurative representations is almost inevitable. Indeed, the description of disbelievers as “deaf” and “blind,” “dwelling in darkness,” or the depiction of revelation as “light” and “guidance” are examples of this (Watt and Bell 1991, pp. 81–82). Notably, the lightning motif—frequently evoked in both poetic and Qurʾānic discourse—is rich in symbolic value, functioning as a sign of divine intervention, desire, or transformation. As Ali A. Hussein demonstrates, pre-Islamic poets often used lightning scenes to signal dramatic mood and spatial orientation transitions, thereby establishing a symbolic bridge between internal emotional states and the natural world (Hussein 2009, pp. 45–48, 89–104)

In the subheadings of this section, the analysis focuses on how images of nature in the Mu’allaqāt relate to rhetorical and figurative structures in the Qurʾān, with particular emphasis on the functions of animal, spatial, and natural imagery. The discussion highlights the similarities and differences between the imagery found in pre-Islamic poetry and that of the Qurʾān.

In pre-Islamic poetry, nature is integral to desert life and nomadic culture. Poets described animals and landscapes as aesthetic elements and vehicles for expressing emotions, values, and social norms. In contrast, the Qurʾān reframes animals not as passive parts of the landscape but as “spiritual, moral, intelligent, and accountable beings,” participating in a cosmic order of worship and moral responsibility (Tlili 2012, p. III). This shift marks a movement from descriptive representation to metaphysical engagement. Tlili further argues that the Qurʾān ascribes several characteristics not usually confirmed by human senses to nonhuman animals. The most prominent of these is a spiritual dimension in which the entire universe partakes; animals can be moral beings capable of making choices and held accountable for those choices (Tlili 2012, p. 165).

While pre-Islamic poetry often assigned symbolic functions to animals, such as representing tribal values or existential conditions, the Qurʾān offers a distinct portrayal. As Tlili explains, “such symbolic treatment of nonhuman animals is not encountered in the Qur’an. On the other hand, animals are recipients of God’s attention and graces and as signs of creation, which are important animal themes in the Qur’an, but are not found in pre-Islamic poetry” (Tlili 2012, p. 69). This contrast reveals a profound transformation in worldview: the Qurʾānic animal is not a metaphor but a theologically significant being. As Tlili further notes, the Qurʾān challenges anthropocentric readings by asserting that all creatures participate in divine service—even in ways “inaccessible to human experience and knowledge” (Tlili 2012, pp. X, 96–97).

2.1. The Symbolic Meaning of Ruins (al-Aṭlāl) and Spatial Imagery

In the traditional qaṣīda style, the poem typically opens with a reflection on the deserted campsite of the beloved and the traces left behind by her. One example of this can be seen in the poet Zuhayr b. Abī Sulmā (d. ca. 609), who expresses his longing for his beloved by describing the abandoned town and its remains. Zuhayr, who devotes the first six verses of his mu’allaqa to this, mentions his beloved by saying, “ʾAlā in’im ṣabāḥan ayyuhā al-rab’u wa-slam(i),” “Hey, good morning, be well, O house!” when he recognizes her homeland from the remains in her homeland (Zuhayr b. Abī Sulmā 1980, pp. 9–11). Another mu’allaqa poet who mentions his beloved’s homeland by referring to its ruins is Labīd b. Rabī’a (d. 40 or 41/660 or 661). He also mentions this desolate, abandoned, ruined valley, which was later revived by rain from floodwaters and thunderclouds, in the first eleven verses of his mu’allaqa. These desolate places are ruins over which many years have passed since their inhabitants left, along with the months of ḥalāl and ḥarām (Al-Zawzanī [d. 486/1093], while describing these ruins and explaining the passing of the months of ḥalāl and ḥarām, cites the verb in the seventeenth verse of al-Aḥkāf, “Wa-qad khalat al-qurūnu min qablī”. For more information, see Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 172). He describes the floods bringing these remains back to the surface by comparing them to the tattoo artist’s new tattoo on the circular lines (Al-’Āmirī 2004, pp. 107–8). ‘Antara b. Shaddād (d. ca. 614) also addresses the ruins of the empty and desolate house of his beloved cousin ‘Abla in the first six verses of his mu’allaqa (Al-Zawzanī 2002, pp. 245–46).

This traditional poetic narrative style bears striking similarities to the religious language of the Qurʾān in terms of creating meaning through the use of symbols and imagery. Although the nature and scope of religious language are beyond the scope of this study, this paper will shed light on a specific aspect of religious language by focusing on how the Qurʾān uses parables, imagery, and symbolic expressions in its religious narrative language. In this context, the paper will evaluate how the Qurʾān uses these narrative tools for proclamation and guidance. Symbols occupy an essential place among the elements of this language. In this regard, Annemarie Schimmel reports that Allwohn, a psychologist from Frankfurt, defined the concept of a symbol at the German Theologians’ Congress held in Mainz, Germany, in 1954 as follows: “A symbol, which points to an invisible truth through a visible form, is powerful enough to activate numerous thoughts and feelings, leaving effects that penetrate the depths of the soul and the subconscious. The symbol embodies both aspects of the sacred—the majesty that inspires awe and reverence, and the beauty that evokes admiration and pleasure” (Schimmel 1954, p. 70). In this context, the language of the Qurʾān conveys not only theological messages, but also employs various symbols, images, and descriptions to leave a lasting impact on the human mind. This symbolic narrative of the Qurʾān is one of the fundamental tools for producing religious meaning. In particular, the incorporation of spatial, animal, and natural elements enriches the narrative’s aesthetic dimension and serves as a vehicle for conveying theological, moral, and metaphysical messages.

In its early stages of formation, the Qurʾān structured its historical narrative through the discourse of “umam khāliya” (previous past societies). The stories of the prophets sent to earlier communities are recounted in this discourse. These prophets called their people to worship the one God and obey Him, but their people did not accept the faith. Here, the Qurʾān approaches time not as a chronological flow but as a continuous landscape, navigating through this landscape (Neuwirth 2014, p. 392).

The Qurʾān describes the places and locations in its stories for various purposes. An example of this can be seen in the verse, “Man assasa bunyānahu ‘alā shafā jurufin hārin,” “…who built his house on the edge of a crumbling cliff…” [Q9:109], which depicts a building constructed on the edge of a cliff. Abū ‘Ubayda Ma’mar b. al-Muthannā (d. 209/824) states in his work Majāz al-Qurʾān that this verse is a metaphorical representation (majāz al-tamthīl), depicting the weakness of a religious and belief system based on disbelief and hypocrisy, which is exposed to danger and destruction (Ma’mar b. al-Muthannā al-Taymī al-Baṣrī 1381, vol. 1, p. 269). According to Sedat Sağdıç, Abū ‘Ubayda states here that it is a metaphorical representation, i.e., isti’āra tamthīliyya (Sağdıç 2024, p. 12). al-Sharīf al-Raḍī (d. 406/1015), the author of one of the most significant works on Qurʾānic figurative language, states that the verse in question contains an isti’ārah (metaphor). According to him, the structure referred to in the verse is the so-called “Mosque of Ḍirār,” built by the hypocrites after the believers had constructed the “Qubāʾ Mosque.” Al-Raḍī considers the wording of this verse as one of the finest examples of rhetorical metaphor (isti’ārah) in the Qurʾān (Al-Raḍī 2011, p. 62).

While offering lessons through historical examples, the Qurʾān presents not only the events that befell the nations, but also their settlements as a basis for reflection. This approach represents a narrative form combining material traces with spiritual messages. Especially in passages describing destroyed societies, their sociological collapse and physical traces are recalled, emphasizing lessons to be learned through place.

This context is evident in Sūrat Hūd. After recounting the fates of the people of Nūḥ, ‘Ād, Thamūd, Lūṭ, Shu’ayb, and the people of Pharaoh, Allah Almighty says:

“These are of the reports of the towns—We relate them to you. Some are still standing, and some have withered away” [Q11:100].

The phrase “min-hā qāʾimun wa-ḥaṣīd” at the end of the verse has been interpreted by classical exegetes as a simile (tashbīh)—that is, a rhetorical figure of comparison. In this phrase, past cities and civilizations are likened to a field of crops; some stand tall, while others have been harvested and destroyed like crops. Thus, the message is conveyed that even settlements still standing in a material sense may one day end (Al-Zamakhsharī 1998, vol. 3, p. 233; Abū al-Su’ūd 2020, vol. 4, pp. 482–83).

The image of “harvested crops” (ḥaṣīd) in verse 15 of Sūrat al-Anbiyāʾ has been interpreted by classical exegetes as a simile, underscoring the annihilation of nations, rather than as a metaphor. Indeed, metaphor (isti’āra) is a type of figurative speech based on similarity, where a word is transferred from its original meaning to another due to a resemblance between them. It is stronger than a simile because it claims the subject is actually the thing it is compared to, not just like it. There are types of metaphor depending on what is mentioned or omitted, and it is effective when the similarity is clear (See Al-Sakkākī 1987, pp. 369–91). In contrast, the “extinguished fire” simile emphasizes the complete end of their lives and activities. Al-Zamakhsharī (d. 538/1144) and al-Rāzī (d. 606/1210) evaluate this simile as a figure of speech that particularly expresses the severity of destruction (Al-Zamakhsharī 1998, vol. 4, pp. 130–31; Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 22, p. 123). Al-Qurṭubī (d. 671/1273) also states that the expression “the extinguishing of the fire” is a simile describing death (Al-Qurṭubī 1964, vol. 11, p. 275).

After these descriptions, in verse 42 of Sūrat al-Rūm, the call for reflection is now transformed into a direct command:

“Say, ‘Roam the earth, and observe the fate of those who came before. Most of them were idolaters.’”

This verse advises that one should not merely recount historical events, but actively learn lessons from them through observation, reflection, and inference. The verb “to travel” (sīrū fī l-arḍ) here encompasses not only physical travel, but also contemplation and the acquisition of historical awareness. This approach demonstrates the Qurʾān’s function of transforming historical knowledge into explicit teachings, moral warnings, and proofs of faith.

The presence of certain words in mu’allaqa poems that are also used in a similar form in the Qurʾān is also noteworthy. The word “‘ākifa,” which is the infinitive form of the verb “‘akafa” used in ‘Amr b. Kulthūm’s (d. 584 or 600) mu’allaqa, meaning “to settle in a place” or “to keep someone waiting in a place,” is also used as an active participle in the Sūrat al-Ḥajj:

“taraknā al-khayla ‘ākifatan ‘alayhi—muqalladatan a’innatahā ṣufūnā”

“We kept our horses at their heads, standing on three legs, with their reins held”.

(Maydān 1992, pp. 319–20)

“…wa-l-masjidi al-ḥarāmi alladhī ja’alnāhu li-l-nāsi sawāʾan al-’ākifu fīhi wa-l-bādi…”

“…the Sacred Mosque—which We have designated for all mankind equally, whether residing therein or passing through—…”.

[Q22:25]

In ‘Amr b. Kulthūm’s mu’allaqa describes the word “‘ākifa” as the disciplined waiting and physical display of strength of horses preparing for battle. In contrast, in Sūrat al-Ḥajj, the word “al-’ākif”, which comes from the same root, emphasizes the spiritual stance of believers residing in the Masjid al-Ḥarām for worship and the principle of universal equality in the sacred place. This verb, which in pre-Islamic poetry signified material control and military domination, undergoes a unifying transformation in the Qurʾān, expressing both the continuity of the i’tikāf worship and the fact that Mecca has been made equally accessible to all believers. This contrast is a crucial example of how the Qurʾān removes common Arabic words from their secular context in the pre-Islamic era, imbuing them with a new meaning that encompasses both religious and social justice. This concept, which was used in poetry to represent military power, has been transformed by revelation into a symbol of believers’ awareness of their servitude and struggle for social equality.

While historical reflections and moral lessons emphasize place and space, the central role of geographical elements, especially mountains, in sacred narratives is also noteworthy in this context. Mountains are geographical formations that meet people’s material needs and symbolic spaces that shape beliefs and cultures. In many belief systems, mountains have been attributed sacredness, and this situation has been referred to as a “mountain cult”. Especially in the sacred texts of the three Abrahamic religions, mountains stand out as the places where prophets received revelation; in this respect, mountains are among the central spaces where revelation manifests itself (Kaya 2020, p. 37). In Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, mountains are often regarded as sacred places where prophets withdrew to receive revelation. Moses spoke with God on Mount Sinai. Jesus frequently received revelation on the mountain where he retreated into seclusion, and Muḥammad received his first revelation in Ḥirāʾ. In this regard, it can be said that high altitudes provide individuals with a broad perspective and mental depth, bringing about spiritual transformation and internalization processes (Baş 2013, p. 137).

Although mountains are mostly mentioned in the Qurʾān in the context of scenes of the Day of Judgment [Q18:47]; [Q20:105–107]; [Q73:14]; [Q77:10]; [Q78:20]; [Q81:3]; [Q99:1–2]; [Q101:5], attention is also drawn to their geological and meteorological functions [Q16:15]; [Q31:10]; [Q21:31], their role as habitats and shelters [Q26:149], and their function as places of worship and revelation [Q16:81]. Additionally, mountains are described as places where blessings are found [Q16:68], beings that submit to Allah [Q59:21]; [Q34:10], and elements given to the command of the prophets [Q38:18–19]; they gain an ontological dimension through their witnessing of creation [Q33:72]. Some mountains, such as Ṭūr [Q95:1–2], Jūdi [Q11:44], and ‘Arafāt [Q2:198], are specifically referred to by name (Kaya 2020, p. 42).

The Qurʾān is more than just an Arabic text; it is a book of revelation revealed within the framework of the Arabs’ conception of the universe and their cultural world (Sülün 2007, p. 48). Geography is a decisive factor in the Arabs’ perception of the world and social life, and landforms have played a significant role in shaping their social and cultural structure (Paçacı 2010, pp. 20–21). The frequent and varied references to mountains in the Qurʾān are rooted in the mountainous geography of the Arabian Peninsula, particularly Mecca, and the Arabs’ close interaction with mountains in their daily lives. The same geographical reality has also laid the groundwork for mountains to be strongly represented in hadiths, Arabic poetry, and proverbs (Kaya 2020, pp. 49–50).

In Imrūʾ al-Qays’ (d. ca. 540) mu’allaqa, “Ka-annā Thabīran fī ‘arānīni wablihi … kabīru unāsin fī bijādin muzammalī.” “The Thabīr Mountain, under the heavy rain, resembled a tribal chief wrapped in a striped woolen cloak (with a large cut)” (Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 76). The description of Mount Thabīr reveals that mountains in pre-Islamic poetry were not merely physical elements, but also powerful metaphors representing social hierarchy. The poet’s comparison of Thabīr under the torrential rain to a tribal chief wrapped in a woolen cloak shows that he attributes both physical grandeur and social dignity to the mountain. In this approach, the mountain is not merely a part of nature but a carrier of moral and social imagery.

As a result, while mountains in pre-Islamic poetry serve as a metaphor for individual or tribal power and dignity, in the Qurʾān, mountains take on meaning as cosmic entities with ontological consciousness, positioned about Allah’s power. Thus, in the Qurʾānic narrative and early Arabic poetry, mountains are transformed from fixed elements of nature into elevated symbolic entities that express the relationship between humans, society, and nature.

2.2. The Rhetorical Use of Animals

For pre-Islamic poets of the Jāhiliyya period, animals were not merely a practical element of daily life, but also an integral part of their artistic expression and a vital connection to their existential world. For in the collective consciousness of the desert people, animal images have remained constantly alive, imbued with aesthetic and symbolic meanings. The poet employed these images not simply for ornamentation, but to articulate the emotional and symbolic resonance animals held in the harsh realities of desert life. The poet’s relationship with nature has been shaped by an anthropomorphic (humanizing) approach and a metaphorical belief in the capacity of desert animals to understand human emotions. This situation illustrates that animals are an integral part of the physical environment and an extension of the poet’s mental and emotional world. Indeed, when addressing natural elements, the poet has carried out this process with a psychological orientation that transcends temporal and perceptual boundaries. This situation reveals that his interaction with nature stems from a conscious choice and an unconscious attachment. Therefore, this relationship suggests a profound and organic connection between humans and nature, encompassing aesthetic, emotional, and existential dimensions (Al-Mobaideen and Al-Dmoor 2015, pp. 236–37). In this context, animals such as camels, horses, and desert birds are associated with heroism, endurance, and journey metaphors.

Imruʾ al-Qays describes how his horse, which he likens to a long-legged, slender-bellied ostrich, traverses regions teeming with wild animals. In the later sections of the poem, a restless night, a perilous journey, scenes of horses and hunting, and descriptions of natural elements such as clouds and floods come to the forefront, and these elements play a crucial role in shaping the poem’s structure.

Imruʾ al-Qays mentions his horse in ten verses in a section of his mu’allaqa. The phrase he uses to describe his horse’s characteristics in this section is noteworthy because we will compare it with its use in the Sūrat al-’Ādiyāt:

“Misaḥḥin idhā mā al-sābiḥātu ‘alā al-wanā … atharna al-ghubāra bi’l-kadīdi al-murakkal”

“When the horses, running like they are swimming, grow tired and begin to kick up dust from the hard ground, my horse, flowing like water, renews itself”.

(Imruʾ al-Qays n.d., pp. 20–22)

The horse described in the verse creates a continuous flow of movement by uniquely displaying its speed and running. The poet describes how powerful and fast horses extend their front legs forward, kicking up dust on the hard, dry ground that has been trampled by the hooves of horses before. This movement persists even when the horses exhibit signs of fatigue and exhaustion, highlighting their endurance and superiority in speed (Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 66). In addition, the phrase “sābiḥāt” in the verse indicates that the horses are likened to swimmers gliding across the water. These vivid descriptions of movement and endurance reveal not only the physical qualities of the horse, but also its symbolic association with strength, loyalty, and heroic perseverance in the Arabic poetic tradition. The example of dust rising from horses’ hooves is also seen in Labīd b. Rabī’a (d. 40 or 41/660 or 661), considered one of the muḥaḍram poets because he lived during the pre-Islamic period, also lived during the Islamic period. He states that when his tribe faced a crisis, he climbed to a high place to protect them and saw the dust from his horse’s hooves on the enemy’s flags or mountains (Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 195; Al-’Āmirī 2004, p. 114).

The word “‘aqara,” used in Imruʾ al-Qays’ mu’allaqa to mean “to slaughter a camel,” also appears in the Sūrat Hūd:

“wa-yawma ‘aqartu li-l-’adhārā maṭiyyatī—fa-yā ‘ajaban min raḥli-hā al-mutaḥammali”

“On the day I slaughtered my mount (camel) for the young girls… (After slaughtering my camel) how wonderful it was to load its remaining load onto their camels!”.

(Imruʾ al-Qays n.d., p. 11)

“fa-’aqarūhā fa-qāla tamattta’ū fī dārikum thalāthata ayyāmin…”

“But they killed her, so he warned them, ‘You have only three more days to enjoy life in your homes—this is an unfailing promise!’”.

[Q11:65]

In Imruʾ al-Qays’s mu’allaqa, the phrase “‘aqartu” (I slaughtered a camel) is connected to the traditional themes of generosity and love in pre-Islamic poetry, describing how the poet sacrificed his mount to treat young girls to a feast. This act is praised as a sign of nobility. However, in Sūrat Hud, the same verb (‘aqarūhā) symbolizes the rebellion of the people of Thamud against Allah’s command by slaughtering the miraculous camel of Prophet Salih, and it becomes an act of transgression that results in destruction. The Qurʾān uses this familiar word to address an established motif in Arab culture (the slaughtering of camels), but reinterprets it as a sign of disobedience and divine punishment, thereby offering a monotheistic critique of pre-Islamic values.

Another mu’allaqa poet, Ṭarafa (d. ca. 564), mentions his camel in thirty-four verses of his 103-verse poem (2000, pp. 28–42). Although this is not insignificant, it is unsurprising that Arabs take pride in their camels, which accompany them in the desert and help them on their travels, never tiring or growing weary, and attach such importance to them. Just as the cow was a source of inspiration for Indian poets during the Vedic period, it is natural that these animals should also be a source of inspiration in Arabic poetry (Brockelmann 1959, vol. 1, p. 56).

Another noteworthy aspect of ‘Antara b. Shaddād’s mu’allaqa is his depiction of a fly. The word “dhubāb,” which is also used in the Qurʾān, is mentioned in ‘Antara’s mu’allaqa in the following way, referring to the humming of a song like that of a drunkard:

“Fa-tarā l-dhubāba bi-hā yughannī waḥdahu

hazijan ka-fi’l l-shāribi l-mutarannimi

ka-fi’li l-mukibbi ‘alā l-zinādi l-ajdhami”.

(Al-Tabrīzī 1992, pp. 158–59)

In the first verse, the buzzing of a fly is likened to the drunken man’s song, while in the second, the bird’s chirping (gharidan) is compared to the blacksmith bending over the anvil (al-zinād l-ajdhami), thus shifting the imagery from the animate to the artisanal sphere. To make this comparison more effective, he provides an exaggerated description of the garden (Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 250).

The Qurʾān is a text with compelling rhetoric, employing a discourse that considers the meanings of words, their connotations, and the emotional impact they evoke in the listener. In this context, animal figures are not merely parts of creation or decorative elements of the narrative; they often serve as powerful rhetorical tools. In both the linguistic and rhetorical structure of the Qurʾān, the forms of simile, representation, and parable constructed through these figures deepen the layers of meaning in the discourse.

Among the animal representations in the Qurʾān, the figures of the horse, the locust, and the mosquito serve as key examples. This is because these three animals are used in different contexts in the Qurʾān, serving as aesthetic, strategic, and intellectual warnings, thereby assuming a multidimensional rhetorical function. Horses are both the adornment of worldly life and the symbol of jihād; locusts are a metaphor that visualizes the horror of the apocalypse; and mosquitoes are a representational tool used in the form of parables in the Qurʾān. Each of these figures not only conveys meaning but also aligns with cultural images found in pre-Islamic Arab poetry, thereby strengthening the multifaceted communication established between the Qurʾān and its audience.

With the emergence of Islam, a profound transformation took place in the religious, social, economic, moral, and political life of Arab society. This transformation also profoundly affected the Arabs’ perceptions of many environmental elements. The perception of horses also shared in this change; the love and pride felt for this animal gained new meaning and value in the post-Islamic period. Muslims’ interest in horses was not limited to cultural or traditional affection, but also took on a religious dimension. In this context, it is evident that Muslims’ interest in horses was based on both natural affection and spiritual devotion. This dual motivation has led to increased devotion to horses and a greater respect for them compared to previous periods (Abazoğlu 2024, pp. 8–9). The most significant source of motivation for this is the passages in the Qurʾān and hadiths that describe the virtues and characteristics of horses.

The Qurʾān assigns functional and symbolic meanings to horses in various contexts through the verses it contains about them. When the relevant verses are evaluated, it becomes clear that horses are positioned in the Qurʾānic perspective not only as a means of transportation, but also as a symbol of social status, wealth, and military power. For example, in the verse, “The enjoyment of worldly desires—women, children, treasures of gold and silver, fine horses, cattle, and fertile land—has been made appealing to people…” [Q3:14]. Horses are mentioned as one of the adornments and temporary pleasures of worldly life. In this usage, the phrase “fine horses” (al-musawwama) refers to well-groomed, adorned, and showy horses, thus indicating that horses are associated with wealth and social prestige (Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 7, p. 163). While the Qurʾān presents horses as part of worldly desires in this verse, it also draws attention to the transience of such worldly desires and the superiority of the reward in the sight of Allah.

The verse that describes the military function of horses, “Prepare against them what you believers can of military power and cavalry…” [Q8:60] points to the strategic importance of horses in the context of military power. This verse commands Muslims to consider horses as a force in their military preparations, while also highlighting their indispensability in preparing for jihād. Here, horses are not merely a means of transportation, but also a deterrent against the enemy (Ibn ‘Āshūr 1984, vol. 10, pp. 55–56). In the exegetical literature, during the explanation of the verse above, the following verse attributed to al-As’ar al-Ju’fī (n.d.), a poet from the Jāhiliyya period, is cited: “Wa-laqad ‘alimtu ‘alā tajannubiyya al-radā … anna al-ḥuṣūna al-khaylu lā madara al-qurā”; the Bedouin warrior mentality and understanding of security reflected in this verse is explained in terms of the emphasis placed on horses in the Qurʾān. In this context, the horse is seen as a “refuge” in both military and cultural terms, and is used as a functional reference in the commentary to draw attention to the thematic continuity between pre-Islamic poetry and the Qurʾān (Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 15, p. 499).

The verse in the Qurʾān that states “He also created horses, mules, and donkeys for your transportation and adornment…” [Q16:8] reveals that horses were created not only as a means of transportation, but also as beings with aesthetic and symbolic value (Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 19, p. 177; Ibn ‘Āshūr 1984, vol. 14, p. 107). This emphasis underscores the significance of horses as both a functional and cultural component. This understanding is also reflected in the poetry of the pre-Islamic Arabian period. During this period, poets depicted horses not only as instruments of war and transportation, but also as symbols of visual splendor, purity of breed, and elegance. This parallelism can be seen as one way the message of the Qurʾān resonated with the mindset of the time. Thus, while the Qurʾān presents the horse as both a blessing of creation and an aesthetic value, it also offers a multi-layered depiction that aligns with the poetic sensibilities of the era.

The verse “By the galloping, panting horses” [Q100:1] draws attention to the speed and dynamism of horses and begins with an oath emphasizing their speed and dynamism. The first verse of Sūrat al-’Ādiyāt contains a description that glorifies the movements of horses galloping swiftly across the battlefield and raising clouds of dust. This oath shows that horses are not only mentioned in the Qurʾān for their physical strength, but also as a symbol of power and majesty. The second verse, which continues with “By those that produce sparks by striking” [Q100:2], describes how these horses spark as their hooves (or nails or shoes) strike the pebbles as they run across the ground. The fire mentioned here is the ḥubāḥib fire, expressed in a well-known Arabic idiom. Al-Zajjāj (d. 311/923) quotes al-Kalbī (d. 146/763) as defining this fire as follows: “al-Ḥubāḥib is one of the Arab tribes. They were considered among the most miserly of people. To the extent that they never lit a fire during the day. If someone came to them to take their fire at night, they would immediately extinguish it.” The simile (tasbīh) in this verse implies that the sparks produced by horses are as useless as their fire. Just as the sparks from horses’ hooves cannot be used, neither can the fire of the ḥubāḥib be used (Al-Zajjāj 1988, vol. 3, p. 284).

These explanations reveal the rhetorical and cultural dimensions of the Qurʾānic similes (tashbīhāt), especially as they appear in the first two verses of Sūrat al-’Ādiyāt. The movements of horses during battle and the sparks they produce function as images of forceful motion, danger, and unwavering resolve. At the same time, examples drawn from Arab tribal culture, as frequently emphasized in classical Qurʾānic exegesis, contribute to the understanding of these similes by grounding them in familiar social and symbolic contexts.

In conclusion, horses in the Qurʾān are depicted as a worldly symbol of adornment and wealth, a strategic element in jihād and defense, and a blessing of both aesthetic and functional value in creation. In this way, the horse carries a multi-dimensional meaning in the Qurʾānic world of thought, serving as a metaphorical element that reflects both human desires and a sense of responsibility.

In the Qurʾān, animal imagery is employed not only as part of the created order but also as a rhetorical device to produce emotional resonance in the audience through vivid similes (tashbīh) and allegorical representations (tamthīl). In this context, the phrase “Ka-annahum jarādun muntashirun” (as if they were a swarm of locusts spread out) in the seventh verse of the Sūrat al-Qamar depicts the moment when the unbelievers emerge from their graves on the Day of Judgment through a powerful metaphor that reflects feelings of chaos and horror.

Such metaphorical structures are classified as tashbīh tamthīlī in classical rhetoric literature. Indeed, al-Zamakhsharī interpreted the simile in this verse as a type of narrative and cited the expression “jāʾū ka-al-jarādi”, “they came like locusts”, which is used in Arabic to describe the movement of large armies, as an example (Al-Zamakhsharī 1998, vol. 5, p. 655). Thus, this description in the Qurʾān is based on a metaphorical pattern established in the literal and cultural planes.

Similarly, Abū Ḥayyān al-Andalusī (d. 745/1344), in his commentary al-Baḥr al-Muḥīṭ, discusses the same simile, interpreting it not only as a visual description but also in terms of its established linguistic significance and rhetorical functionality. He emphasizes that the phrase “they came like locusts” is often used in Arabic to describe the arrival of armies and points out that this expression has been transformed into a multi-layered description in the Qurʾān. Abū Ḥayyān discusses this simile in conjunction with the phrase “ka-l-farāshi l-mabthūthi” (like scattered moths) found in the Sūrat al-Qāri’a, taking into account the differences in meaning between the two similes depending on time and context. In his commentary, he compares the two similes and includes Makkī b. Abī Ṭālib’s (d. 437/1045) systematic explanation of the subject. According to Makkī, the panic and confusion experienced by people emerging from their graves on the Day of Judgment are represented by moths that do not follow a specific direction and move randomly. Then, when they turn toward the caller and gather at the place of assembly, they resemble a swarm of locusts with a crowded and directed movement pattern (Abū Ḥayyān al-Andalusī 2000, vol. 10, p. 38).

This interpretation, as conveyed by Abū Ḥayyān, not only highlights the descriptive function of two separate similes, but also reveals how the description in the Qurʾān is structured in terms of temporal progression, emotional transition, and narrative coherence. Thus, the similes in question transcend their role as mere visual similes and become multi-layered rhetorical devices that describe the psychological and social dimensions of the apocalypse scene.

In verse 26 of Sūrat al-Baqara, the phrase “Indeed, Allah does not shy away from using a mosquito or something even smaller as an example” indicates that Allah can use even the smallest and most ordinary of created beings as an example, thereby drawing attention to the weakness of false deities and condemning polytheists who worship such weak things (‘Abdalī 1985, p. 248). Similarly, in Sūrat al-Ḥajj, verse 73, the example of a mosquito is mentioned; here, an example illustrates that humans are powerless even in the face of this creature, one of the smallest creatures. This parable expresses that Allah does not hesitate to create small creatures, such as mosquitoes, or use them as examples (Al-Qāsimī 1978, vol. 2, pp. 85–86). For, in comparison to Allah’s power, the throne and the mosquito are equal. Otherwise, it is not more difficult for Him to create the throne than to generate the mosquito (Al-Bursawī 2018, vol. 1, p. 89).

When evaluating these verses as parables, al-Zamakhsharī explains that a statement is considered a parable not only because it contains metaphors or similes, but also because it is a narrative form that has become widespread in language, has taken root in the mind, and inspires reflection. According to him, such parables, which have literary and didactic functions, are generalizations of situations people find beautiful or strange, expressed through representative narratives (Al-Zamakhsharī 1998, vol. 4, pp. 211–12). From this perspective, it is seen that parables are not rare examples or isolated events that have occurred in limited circles, but rather representations taken directly from real life (Al-Bayānūnī 1991, p. 111).

In conclusion, the animal representations in the Qurʾān should not be regarded merely as descriptions of created beings, but rather as narrative devices that serve multiple rhetorical functions. As seen in the examples of the horse, locust, and mosquito, the Qurʾān’s use of such representations aims to create a powerful image in the audience’s mind and convey theological messages effectively. The horse figure serves a multifaceted representational function, as a symbol of adornment and wealth, indicating worldly desires, and as a metaphor for military power and mobility in the context of jihād.

On the other hand, the locust is used as a simile to depict the emergence of people from their graves on the Day of Judgment, becoming a compelling visual metaphor that reflects horror and disorder. In the example of the mosquito, the Qurʾān reveals the absolute nature of divine power and the invalidity of the false beliefs of polytheists through the smallest and most ordinary-looking creature, highlighting the parable form’s didactic and cultural aspects. As al-Zamakhsharī notes, parables are not merely narratives containing metaphors or similes; they are representations that have become established in language, widely accepted, and carry lessons. In this context, the similes and representations established through animal figures in the Qurʾān both draw on the cultural imagery of classical Arabic poetry and stand out as critical rhetorical elements that enhance the impact of the address.

2.3. Natural Phenomena and Theological Interpretation

In pre-Islamic Arabic poetry, natural elements such as rain, lightning, stars, and darkness were primarily used as metaphors for individual emotions, including love, longing, and fear. In contrast, the Qurʾān presents these elements as part of the cosmic order, a manifestation of Allah’s power, and an indication of the truth of monotheism. While nature is depicted in pre-Islamic poetry as a force that acts independently, sometimes as a friend and sometimes as an enemy, in the Qurʾān, nature is presented as a collection of verses that only gain meaning through divine will. In this context, descriptions of natural events are not merely aesthetic depictions but also serve as metaphysical warnings and moral inquiries. It is particularly noteworthy how images such as rain, storm, darkness, and stars are assigned different functions in poetry and the Qurʾān, demonstrating how the same cultural language is reshaped based on different ontological foundations. The analysis below examines the natural descriptions of poets such as Imruʾ al-Qays and Labīd b. Rabī’a and Al-A’shā (d. ca. 7/629), alongside their counterparts in the Qurʾān, aim to reveal the nature of the transformation between these two discourses.

Imruʾ al-Qays expresses his deep passion for his beloved by likening the position of the Pleiades star cluster in the sky to an aesthetic image using a simile (Imruʾ al-Qays, n.d., p. 14). The poet offers an artistic depiction of the night sky by employing a simile that compares the tightly grouped Pleiades star cluster to an ornamental belt adorned with precious stones arranged at regular and distinct intervals (Al-Anbārī n.d., p. 51). According to another interpretation, the poet directly compares the Pleiades and the jewels on such a belt, emphasizing that just as the Pleiades appear centrally positioned in the sky, the decorative belt is worn around the middle of a woman’s waist (Al-Zawzanī 2002, p. 49). The poet employs a rhetorical simile in the following verses, likening the night and its sorrows to the waves of the sea. The poet expresses his complaint against this long and dark period, saying that the night has descended upon him like a curtain, enveloping him. However, the arrival of morning is no consolation for him, because the poet sees the day as gloomy and painful as the night (Imruʾ al-Qays n.d., p. 18). In this context, the poet emphasizes that there is no difference between night and day, expressing the magnitude of his suffering and distress through a powerful literary narrative (Al-Anbārī n.d., pp. 74–77).

Another noteworthy word is “barq,” which Imruʾ al-Qays uses in another verse to describe the clash of two hands moving within layers of clouds, like a flash of lightning. Indeed, this word is mentioned in the twentieth verse of Sūrat al-Baqara, which describes the situation of the hypocrites. The verse in question is as follows:

“Yakādu l-barqu yakhtifu abṣārahum, kullamā aḍāʾa la-hum mashaw fī-hi wa-idhā aẓlama ‘alayhim qāmū; wa-law shāʾa Allāhu la-dhahaba bi-sam’ihim wa-abṣārihim; inna Allāha ‘alā kulli shayʾin qadīr.”

“The lightning almost snatches away their sight. Whenever it flashes for them, they walk in it; but when darkness covers them, they stand still. And if Allah willed, He could take away their hearing and their sight. Indeed, Allah is over all things competent.”.

[Q2:20]

The word “wadq” means heavy rain and appears in Labīd b. Rabī’a’s mu’allaqa, is also found in Sūrat al-Nūr:

“ruziqat marābī’a l-nujūmi wa-ṣābahā—wadqu l-rawā’idi jawduhā fa-rihāmu-hā”

“Rainy clouds watered this land in the spring, and both light rain and heavy rain fell from the lightning-filled clouds”.

(Al-’Āmirī 2004, p. 107)

“fa-tarā l-wadqa yakhruju min khilālihi—wa-yunazzilu mina l-samāʾi min jibālin fī-hā min baradin…”

“…And He sends down from the sky mountains ˹of clouds˺ loaded with hail, pouring it on whoever…”.

[Q24:43]

The word “wadq” in Labīd b. Rabī’a’s mu’allaqa describes heavy rain and abundant rainfall, depicting the revival of nature and an event of vital importance to desert life. This expression in the poem illustrates the subtlety of nature descriptions in Arabic literature by depicting different types of rain (light and heavy). In Sūrat al-Nūr, the same word (al-wadq) refers to the miraculous formation of rain and hail falling from the sky as a manifestation of Allah’s power. Here, rain is presented as a physical event and a sign of divine order and power. The Qurʾān transcends the descriptive language of the poem and elevates rain to a metaphysical dimension. This comparison reveals that the Qurʾān reinterprets the depictions of nature in Arabic poetry from a monotheistic perspective. Thus, the Qurʾān reinterprets the aesthetic imagery of rain in poetry, presenting it instead as a sign of divine wisdom and power.

The Qurʾān has developed a new attitude towards nature compared to pre-Islamic Arabic poetry. Accordingly, nature is sufficient for pre-Islamic poets, representing both salvation and destruction. In the Qurʾān, however, all natural phenomena are merely signs (āyāt) pointing to the Creator and reminding humans that their salvation lies elsewhere, namely with Allah (Sperl 2020, p. 405). In this regard, the Qurʾān expresses Allah’s majesty, unity, and creative power, often describing the entities in nature through imagery. In this context, description emerges as an essential narrative technique that not only contributes to the interpretation of verses, but also reveals the miraculous nature of the Qurʾān. This method ensures that the meanings in the Qurʾān are concretized and more effectively embedded in the reader’s mind, facilitating the understanding of the divine message (Nadwah 2008, pp. 163–70). For example, in the interpretation of the verse “His throne encompasses the heavens and the earth” [Q2:255], in his commentary on this verse, Zamakhsharī emphasizes that this is a description of Allah’s majesty, referring to the verse, “They have not shown Allah His proper reverence—when on the Day of Judgment the whole earth will be in His Grip, and the heavens will be rolled up in His Right Hand…” (Al-Zamakhsharī 1998, vol. 1, pp. 481–83; [Q39:67]).

The sixth and seventh verses of Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt state that the nearest heaven is adorned with stars. In exegetical literature, this description is interpreted in various ways, such as protecting the sky from demons, the manifestation of divine power, a light source guiding direction, and the aesthetic adornment of the world’s sky. In this context, al-Zajjāj interprets the term “zīna” as “ornament” in the verse literally, stating that the stars were created for ornamental purposes (Al-Zajjāj 1988, vol. 4, p. 298). Thus, al-Zajjāj’s interpretation that the stars were made for adornment reveals the aesthetic emphasis in the Qurʾān that coincides with the image of stars in pre-Islamic poetry.

In pre-Islamic Arabic poetry, stars were not only celestial bodies, but also images used for navigation, accepted as guides for nighttime travel, and even became metaphorical vehicles for the desire to reunite with a loved one and the hardships of travel. Especially in depictions of nighttime walks and desert journeys, the brightness and movement of stars represent both temporal and emotional transitions. In this context, the Qurʾān’s presentation of stars not only as celestial adornments but also as protective tools against demons, signs of divine order, and metaphysical evidence for finding direction expands the semantic field of these images, which were already present in pre-Islamic poetry.

In Imruʾ al-Qays’ famous ode, the heaviness and uncertainty felt in the face of time on a night shrouded in darkness is described as follows:

“wa-laylin ka-mawj l-baḥri arkhā sudūlahū … ‘alayya bi-ʾanwā’i l-humūmi li-yabtalī

fa-qultu la-hu lammā tamaṭṭā bi-ṣulbihi… wa-ardafa a’jāzan wa-nāʾa bi-kalkali”.

(Imruʾ al-Qays n.d., p. 18)

In this verse, the poet’s experience of the passage of time as he observes the stars under the weight of the night corresponds to the emphasis on adornment in the Qurʾān within a framework woven with emotion and time.

Similarly, Al-A’shā expresses the guiding role of the stars in determining direction in the desert as follows:

“wa-yahdīhā l-kawākibu min bu’din mā ntaʾat … ma’ālimuhā fī l-ufuqi wa-hiya dalīluhā”.

(Al-A’shā 1962, p. 145)

Here, stars possess both aesthetic value and functional value for survival, which corresponds to their roles as guides and protectors in the Qurʾān. Therefore, the multi-layered function attributed to the stars in Sūrat al-Ṣāffāt reflects the relational network established by the Qurʾān with existing poetic codes and can also be evaluated as an example of restructuring these codes from a revelatory perspective.

In the phrase “aw ka-ṣayyibin mina l-samāʾi fī-hi ẓulumātun wa-ra’dun wa-barqun” [Q2:19] in Sūrat al-Baqara, the situation of hypocrites is likened to someone who has fallen into a torrential rain accompanied by darkness, thunder, and lightning. Through this simile, the mental and spiritual turmoil of the hypocrites is described, along with their anxiety, in the face of external threats. The faith they occasionally display illuminates their surroundings for a brief moment. They walk in its light for a while. When they turn away from faith, their light fades, leaving them in darkness (Al-Ḥakīm al-Tirmidhī n.d., p. 20). This atmosphere, reminiscent of a violent storm, emerges as a powerful simile in the Qurʾān’s symbolic narrative, reflecting both external threats and internal fear and confusion.

One striking example of the Qurʾān’s representational narrative is found in the following verse:

“aw ka-ẓulumātin fī baḥrin lujjiyyin yaghshāhu mawjun min fawqihi mawjun min fawqihi saḥābun; ẓulumātun ba’ḍuhā fawqa ba’ḍ; idhā akhraja yadahu lam yakad yarāhā; wa-man lam yaj’al Allāhu la-hu nūran fa-mā la-hu min nūr”.

[Q24:40]

This verse describes the state of confusion of the disbeliever in spiritual darkness (Abū Zahra n.d., pp. 244–45). Indeed, while the believer’s world is illuminated by divine light, the disbeliever’s existence is surrounded by intense darkness. Here, the inner and mental state of the unbeliever is likened to that of a person in the pitch darkness of night, in the depths of the sea, shaken by wave after wave, and covered by clouds. The darkness in this description is not merely a physical space, but also an epistemological darkness in the sense of ignorance, doubt, confusion, denial, and ultimately the concealment of the truth. Moreover, any light from the sky is blocked, for it is impossible to reach the light of the moon and stars; the horizon is completely covered with clouds. The phrase “when he stretches out his hand, he can hardly see it” at the end of the verse emphasizes the unbeliever’s inability to comprehend the truth and his lack of self-awareness (Eren 2001, p. 130). In this simile:

• The deep sea reflects the darkness of the unbeliever’s mind and heart. The unbeliever’s heart is constantly turbulent, like the ocean’s waves (Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya 1981, p. 198).
• The successive waves represent the mental and spiritual turmoil surrounding him, such as ignorance, doubt, and wonder.
• The cloud layer corresponds to the fact that this heart is now sealed (Al-Qurṭubī 1964, vol. 12, pp. 283–85).

Ultimately, there is no other source of light for those who have been deprived of divine light. Thus, the verse strongly represents the Qurʾānic ontology, which posits that faith corresponds to light and disbelief corresponds to darkness.

In verses 12 and 13 of Sūrat al-Ra’d, manifestations of Allah’s power and wisdom are conveyed through awe-inspiring natural phenomena such as lightning (ra’d) and thunder (ṣawā’iq). Rather than functioning as a simile or metaphor, these images operate as direct descriptive imagery that establishes a rhetorical backdrop, juxtaposing themes of punishment and torment on one hand and life and mercy on the other.

In this context, Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī notes that the semantic structure of the verses in question evokes both fear (khawf) and hope (rajāʾ) simultaneously. One of the examples he uses to explain this dual meaning is the following verse by al-Mutanabbī (d. 354/965), one of the greatest names in Arabic literature:

The Qurʾān’s use of natural elements to construct simile-based narratives parallels the rhetorical conventions of classical Arabic poetry. Elements such as lightning and thunder are depicted as manifestations of divine power—at once destructive and merciful—embodying God’s majestic (jalāl) and beautiful (jamāl) attributes (Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 19, p. 21).

Therefore, the use of these natural phenomena in Sūrat al-Ra’d can be interpreted as pointing to a physical phenomenon and as a multi-layered rhetorical strategy that triggers human beings’ emotional and metaphysical experience. In this respect, the Qurʾān establishes a thematic continuity with traditional Arabic narrative forms, both in its theological and literary dimensions.

In the Qurʾān, rain is portrayed as a life-giving and merciful natural phenomenon, as well as a practical rhetorical element in conveying moral teachings. In verse 264 of Sūrat al-Baqara, this verse employs a parable to illustrate the futility of assistance provided with hypocrisy, ostentation, and cruelty. Such acts of charity are likened to a flat, hard rock (ṣafwān) covered with a thin layer of soil, which is exposed to heavy rain (wābil), causing the soil to be thoroughly washed away, leaving behind a dry, bare rock (ṣald).

This analogy is based on the idea that, according to Ibn ‘Aṭiyya al-Andalusī (d. 541/1147), “it is not the essence of charity that is sinful, but rather the corruption of intention” (Ibn ‘Aṭiyya al-Andalusī 2001, vol. 1, p. 357). Al-Rāzī explains what is described here as “the destruction and annihilation of an act that appears to be good because of the intention behind it” and comments that “just as the arrival of rain reveals the barrenness of a rock, so too does the corruption of intention cause an act to lose its validity, for the thing likened to the soil on the rock is the act performed by that person” (Al-Rāzī 2000, vol. 7, p. 46). In addition, al-Tabarī (d. 310/923) quotes narrations from the Companions and Successors and reports that this simile is interpreted as “the futility of an insincere deed done for the sake of hypocrisy, leaving it bare like a violent rain washing away the soil” (Al-Ṭabarī 2001, vol. 4, p. 658–67). In this context, the description of rain in the Qurʾān is not merely an aesthetic simile of nature, but also an existential call to question values such as intention, loyalty, and spiritual purification. Here, rain functions as a trigger for moral and spiritual testing, assuming the role of a rhetorical purifier that reveals the inner nature of deeds.

Arab poets of the Jāhiliyya period also used natural phenomena such as rain, darkness, lightning, and thunder as powerful imagery to express material fears and emotional tensions. In this context, while rain stands out in pre-Islamic poetry with connotations of abundance, life, and longing, in the Qurʾān, it has generally been transformed into a metaphor for revelation, life, and guidance. Darkness symbolizes danger and loneliness in poetry, while in the Qurʾān, it is interpreted as a metaphor for disbelief, heresy, and aimlessness. Similarly, thunder is an element that evokes awe and fear in pre-Islamic poetry, while in the Qurʾān, it is used in the context of divine threat (wa’īd). Lightning, which carries the meanings of sudden flashes and temporary illumination in classical poetry, is represented in the Qurʾān as the light of faith and guidance.

Thus, whereas natural imagery in pre-Islamic poetry frequently evokes storms, nocturnal fear, love, or the foreboding of revenge, the Qurʾān reconfigures such motifs to reflect inner tensions between belief and disbelief, existential hesitation, and disorientation brought about by external influences that destabilize perception.

3. Conclusions

There is a significant overlap between the linguistic structure of the Qurʾān and the vocabulary of pre-Islamic Arabic poetry. Allah’s choice of words, familiar to the Arabs of that period, in conveying His universal message can be explained by the adequacy of the semantic capacity of these terms. Indeed, the common standard language used by poets from different tribes facilitated the comprehensibility of the Qurʾān. The similarity in meaning of words in poetry and the revealed text indicates the chronological proximity and linguistic continuity between the two periods.

This study reveals how figures of nature, animals, and places used in pre-Islamic Arabic poetry underwent a new theological and semantic transformation in the Qurʾān. Elements such as horses, locusts, rain, and lightning were mainly constructed around themes of the hardships of material life, war, and heroism in pre-Islamic poetry, notably, ‘Antara b. Shaddād’s association of the horse figure with heroism in battle scenes, Al-A’shā’s intense focus on desert life and celestial events, and Imruʾ al-Qays’ use of rain and lightning as a metaphorical backdrop for love in his descriptions of nature are noteworthy.

While the Qurʾān employs similar images of these figures aesthetically, it has transformed them into symbols of the conflict between faith and disbelief, divine power, and human existential responsibility. Thus, the Qurʾān has not merely inherited existing literary traditions; it has transformed them by the principles of faith and constructed a new universe of meaning.

Although there is a linguistic continuity between pre-Islamic Arabic poetry and the rhetoric of the Qurʾān, a fundamental transformation occurs in terms of purpose and content. The Qurʾān took the imagery of pre-Islamic poetry and reinterpreted it around the axis of tawḥīd, thereby adding a new dimension to Arabic rhetoric. This comparison illustrates the differences in symbolism between literary and religious texts.

In the Qurʾān, natural phenomena, animals, and places are not used as decorative elements but as lessons for humans to turn to Allah. The new meanings that rain, lightning, darkness, and horses have acquired in the Qurʾān show that revelation is not limited to verbal art but has become a metaphysical means of guidance.

In conclusion, this study has revealed the intricate relationship between the powerful imagery of pre-Islamic poetry and the divine discourse constructed by the Qurʾān. Rather than merely borrowing lexicon or echoing stylistic elements, the Qurʾān enacts a profound rhetorical transformation rooted in theological reorientation. Revising inherited poetic figures offers a multi-layered message that shapes worldly perception and eschatological vision. While pre-Islamic poetry often presents an aestheticized relationship with space, animals, and nature—grounded in the immediacy of desert life and tribal values—the Qurʾān reframes these motifs within a metaphysical and moral framework. Natural elements are no longer passive descriptions, but are elevated to the status of signs (āyāt)—manifestations of divine wisdom and instruments of moral accountability. Through this rhetorical reconfiguration, the Qurʾān constructs a new ethical universe in which the familiar becomes revelatory and the aesthetic becomes soteriological. This shift marks a fundamental movement from representation to revelation, poetic memory to prophetic message.