Poem: The Most Beautiful Love
Mohamed Darwish expresses:
Like grass growing between the cracks of a stone,
One day we found ourselves strangers,
As the spring sky composed stars… and still more stars,
I crafted a love verse…
For your eyes… I sang it!
Do your eyes know that I waited for so long,
Like summer awaits a bird,
And I slept… like a migrant sleeps,
One eye asleep, so the other may awaken… for a long time.
And weep for its sister,
We are lovers, until the moon sleeps,
Knowing that embraces and kisses
Are the sustenance of romantic nights
And dawn calls my steps to continue
On the path to a new day!
We are friends, so walk beside me, hand in hand,
Together we create news and songs.
Why question this road… what destiny
Does it lead us to?
And from where do we collect our steps?
For it is enough for you and me that we walk…
Together, forever.
Why search for songs of sorrow
In an old poetry diwan?
And ask, oh my love! Will it endure?
I love you as caravans love an oasis of grass and water
And as the poor love their bread!
Like grass growing between the cracks of a stone,
We found ourselves strangers one day,
And we remain companions forever.
Poem: Oh My Beloved
Qassem Haddad states:
As a beggar,
I lay my forehead on the doorstep of words
And wait,
Trembling like a bird,
Hoping words will emerge from their silence
And take pity on my pleading eyes,
Perhaps they will lend me a warm coat for my days,
Or a small shirt
To cover this chest opened to the wind
Like a banner.
When my head grows heavy after a while,
The doorway of words shifts from my forehead,
And the word stands like a towering mountain.
Oh my beloved, I beg you.
Poem: O Gazelle Among the Lotus
The poet Al-Sharif Al-Razi proclaims:
Oh gazelle among the lotus, grazing in its lushness,
Today, may your heart find refuge.
The water is freely offered to the thirsty,
Yet only my weeping tears can quench your thirst.
A scent wafted to us from the valley winds,
After slumber, we recognized it in your grace.
Then we inclined when joy stirred us
And recounted your memories by the saddles,
An arrow struck, yet its thrower remains in the peace of Iraq,
For you distanced yourself from his aim.
I made a vow to your eyes which I did not keep,
Oh how my eyes were deceived by your gaze!
Your eyelashes narrated tales of beauties from the realm.
On the day of the encounter, credit was due to the speaker,
As if your glance on the first day revealed to us
What was concealed of your slain names.
You are the delight of my heart and its torment,
How bitter you are in my heart, and how sweet.
I have letters of longing that remain unspoken,
If not for the watchful eye, I would have delivered them to your lips.
May the memories and the nights in the valley benefit you,
And the clouds greet you and you greet them.
When all debts and obligations collide,
Our grievances and reports merge,
When the camp offers a pursuit among our saddles,
There is no one in the heart’s share but you.
Your eyes dazed me, not following another’s desire,
Who taught the eye that the heart longs for you?
Until the chase approached, you revived what was once dead,
My victims, from your embrace, sought not to escape.
Oh how lovely is a breeze that passed through your lips,
And a tear dipped in your lips!
And how pleasant it is to pause, while the caravan moves,
On a broad land where your camels tread with grace.
Even with the dark cloud hovering above my fate,
On that gloomy day when you let your nets go.
Poem: Oh Love, the Cure for Love is Lost
Bashar bin Burd articulates:
Oh love, truly the cure for love is lost,
Except in you; is what I seek present?
She responded: Seek out whom you cherish, I replied:
Oh love, seek the passion of the lips and the eyes and let go.
Do not toy with my life, sever my hope,
Patience is a bitter remedy, for death is surely a visitor.
Your sight beckons death before its time,
If I attain you, I will gain everlasting fulfillment.
You are the princess of my soul and body,
So adorn me with your hands’ ornaments.
Do not let me fall prey to the grasp of death; wait for me,
One day, as if the black shade may swallow me whole.
You’ve blamed me for pursuing you; I replied:
What sin lies with the one whose heart is burning with longing?
I was not the first fool enamored by a girl,
Who trifled with the heart while the man stood resolute.
They instigated fault from a deaf ear,
And a fair-eyed one wrapped in sweet fragrance.
I cherished love and my love is unrivaled,
For mine is with one who possesses not even a stone.
What a wretched gift is love for us, heavy as a stone,
Moreover, I have neither a stone nor a piece of wood.
It burdens in the morning and languishes in its forays,
As if it were a statue worshipped in the market.
She slumbered, and I have not rested since I glimpsed her,
Does a tearful eye ever find repose?
Oh how beautiful is my love when she stands for her neighbor,
And at dusk blooms with a flattering gait.
As if she were the sweetness of youthful pleasures,
And the intoxication of death, if the promise isn’t fulfilled.
She offers whatever she wishes from experience and intent,
Thus the pledge is achieved and the door to attainment is open.
My breath’s love distracted me by her reluctance,
What worth is the life of a lad with denial?
Indeed, I envy a newborn who walks to you,
While I bear an ailment the newborn hasn’t encountered.
I see the distaff directed towards my beloved, and I feel envy,
For the distaff is of what is joined through envy.
Whenever you found me to fulfill your needs,
I complained until sleep was banished.
Tell my beloved, for I long to see her:
Were it not for my distance from you,
My eyes found relief, or we dwelt in anticipation
Of promises granted?
No good lies in unfulfilled expectations,
So fulfill the promise; generosity is praiseworthy.
Unlike a nut in a garden,
If it drowns in water, it would be enriched by the harvest.
If you do not fulfill a promise, do not promise again;
How ugly is a promise until the generosity shines through!
I questioned my love, yet it returned not to man,
The tongue held long inquiring of others.
As if it avoided the snakes glaring,
Or as if I were enjoined by favor.
The noble soul bestows freely from his plenty,
Before necessity calls, and freedom seeks the bond.
Poem: I Found Love a Burning Fire
Qais Ibn Al-Mulawwah (Majnun Layla) asserts:
I found love a burning fire,
Hearts of the lovers kindle the flame;
If only it would extinguish upon burning,
But every time it scorches, it reignites.
Like those of the fire, when their skins are scorched,
They are returned to suffering.