The Most Beautiful Lines by Tamim Al-Barghouti in Praise of the Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him)
The poet Tamim Al-Barghouti has composed several moving poems in honor of the Prophet Muhammad – peace be upon him. Among these are:
Poem: The Mantle (Al-Burda)
We have a Prophet who built a home for each youth
Among us and for every infant wrapped in a cloak
For every wedding that came to the bride, a father
Who greets the guests with warmth and attention
For every battle he ventured forth to the people
Reviewing the ranks before the troops and their weapons
Wiping down the forehead of the steeds if they stumbled
So that you would see the stallion rise if it faltered
Reminding the galloping steeds of their lineage
Like the dark kohl of the eyes and the virtue of lineage
Until you might think the stallion had seen him
Or that a touch had befallen the stallion and it fled
A sage in Yathrib loving us though he has not seen us
These are his gifts to us that have not faded
He loves us and favors us and shows us mercy
And bestows rank upon the weak
He is the Prophet who has led every youth
To recognize that within him is a Prophet if he strives
O like him seeking refuge, O like him laboring
Be like him a champion, be like him prosperous
From his act of abolishing oppression, no matter how great its owner
The throne of Kisra fell when he was born
And the birds returned a pursuing army as it departed
Distancing themselves from the tyrant as they were scattered
Poem: The Dove and the Spider
The dove says to the spider:
O sister, have you remembered me or have you forgotten?
In the evening, the sky tightened upon me
And you said, there is plenty of space in the cave for my home
And in the cave, there lie two elders you do not know
I protected them that day or were you protected?
They are noble, if they survive they become
A nation whose members are all united
And a people who came seeking them, they halt
The wind stays away from them out of fear
I gaze at the people, caught between
An ugly face and another ugly face
They came and I trembled, so you said: Stay firm
Protect the good while you live
For they have no power to make you live
Nor to take your life
We shall protect the two strangers from every sword
With the feathers of doves and the weakest of homes
We shall build minarets in the east
With delicate threads and softened bread
I came to you, complaining about the sky
To share with it some of my sustenance
The dove says to the spider:
O sister, have you remembered me or have you forgotten?
Sister, do you remember the two strangers?
What has happened to them since we have parted, O my dear?
The Most Beautiful Lines by Tamim Al-Barghouti on Love
The expression of love reveals countless secrets. The following are some of the most beautiful works of Tamim Al-Barghouti on love:
Poem: What Love Has Revealed
What love has revealed in secret and what it has kept
And how it has brought life and death before us upon nations
She said: You have been defeated, and I replied
You have not vanquished me, but you have only increased my generosity
Some battles bring dignity in their defeat
For those who return victorious emerge as if they have fallen
I would never abandon my vengeance before them
But they have entered my sanctuary with their beauty
The lovers may harden, based on the love between them
Until one might think between the lovers lies blood
A braid held by both lovers; however
They do not separate but to reunite
In an embrace that returns the world to its timeline
Like the sea after Moses when it healed and melded
They became the essence of all that resembles them; thus, say
They are indeed like that, genuinely, not as if they are
For everything beautiful you shall behold
Or have
heard of before her, so they are
This beauty that, no matter how harsh, bears compassion
This beauty that soothes the pain
My blood is the ransom for a delicate breeze chasing a dream
With two kisses, I neither refuse nor prevent
Poem: The Jasmine from Aleppo
O Jasmine from Aleppo
My family are Turks, and my kin are Arabs
For your eyes, I have forgiven this time
And I have long held it against it
Strange is the beauty of your era
O you who are dear, and no beauty exists without estrangement
And the stingy’s habit is not to give
And the generous does not fear the demand
Nor does a free man’s nature allow him to be afraid
Nor does a baser man’s nature allow him to give
And love may happen without intent
As the Prophet delivered the sermons
And the best of affection is that which occurs by coincidence
Without prior intention or cause
And the difference between the water of chance rains
And the water that is drawn near
For your eyes, if they were to see, would find a king
If al-Rasheed was to gaze upon him, his heart would waver
And your hair is like the night of Imru’ al-Qais, yet
It eases burdens, flows, and spills
And O Jasmine, I was created shy
Except for two temptations, love and anger
And I have not written poetry about you
But he who loves you from himself has written.
The Most Beautiful Lines by Tamim Al-Barghouti for His Mother, Radwa Ashour
Poem: I Perform Ablution Before Writing and Call Your Name
I perform ablution before writing and call your name
And I compose a poem about my father and mother
And the poetry is fearful of the exam as usual
While I stand dressed for school quite early
So that she doesn’t say, on the first pathway of the Day of Judgment,
They will say, “He runs”
My heart tightens before the gates of poetry
Radwa, and the longing for poetry has its prestige
When you entered with Maryam, holding a child from Syria, then from Egypt
And poetry was in the scene of my birth, I terrified the monsters of humankind
My father and looked at them, comforted by the gaze of my mother’s eyes
Monsters that are gazelles at the spring of love, returning
And under the law of time, it does not flow
O breeze that passed by a blacksmith’s shop
O praise to my father and mother, flowed in my chest
He cures iron from fire but does not cool
And for the heated iron remains protected
I perform ablution before writing and call your name
And my father said to poetry: It flows behind me
And it hides in every mirror
In them, I see Radwa and Mureed drawn
More beautiful than necessary and more possible
And I glance in my mirror and say perhaps
I am a bird that sees nothing in the mirror but the sky
My album contains twisted strands and black eyes
My beautiful pictures from childhood and trees
In the whiteness of my lashes, they remain bound
Titles of humanity are not by birth; they birth the newborn
If Radwa were not present and Mureed were not present
If it weren’t for the generosity of the noble,
I would not have called upon God with a prolonged voice
O my Lord, may You forever be my family for my name.