Poem: This World and Your Expertise
- The poet Al-Hassan Al-Habal states:
This world is known to you well,
How much vain arrogance and distance there is.
Its people dangle the ropes of deceit,
Each one caught in its snares, a captive.
For how long will you rely on it,
Finding pleasure in mansions and palaces?
You laugh openly but are unaware,
Of the hardships tomorrow may bring.
You wake unconcerned in a life of ease,
Surrounded by desires and joy,
But your lifespan daily diminishes,
As nights and months pass by.
You stand at the edge of the fire unless
The Forgiving Lord grants you His mercy.
Awake, and rise from negligence,
Do not be oblivious; the warning has come.
Prepare for your journey with diligence,
For the time for departure has drawn near.
Arm yourself with piety for a day,
When defenders and supporters will be few.
Do not be deceived by this world; beware,
For many have perished due to it.
How many kings have tread its paths,
As if they had not walked upon it?
How many lofty palaces have they erected,
Yet they have not outlasted the graves?
Will any wise man be misled by this world?
Will any seeing eye aspire to it?
Be cautious, for a powerful Lord is there,
With a heart that can be broken tomorrow.
And He is the one with minor status,
But has great significance with His Creator.
And a Lord who hopes for a long-lasting hope,
Which cannot be fulfilled due to a fleeting life.
So, if only regret could ease my anguish,
And quench my abundant tears.
And who will shed tears for my heart,
Which is softer than the hardest stones?
How often have I hidden sins behind veils,
While the Lord of the Throne is well aware?
And veils will not serve me; He sees,
What remains concealed behind those barriers.
All I can do is trust in the One to whom all things return,
Indeed, everything that occurs will transpire.
And why should I not fear the punishment of a day,
That tightens throats and chests?
And I abandon every sin, fearing the fire,
I seek refuge with its Creator.
With Him, I have good expectations,
And my sins are minor in His mercy.
Exalted is the Most Gracious, in status,
For how can a thanker truly express gratitude?
And there is no minister or aide before Him,
For He has neither burden nor minister.
O Creator of all, You know best,
What I reveal and what my conscience conceals.
I have sinned and repent from my sins, and I am,
Needy and poor for Your forgiveness.
If You forgive, it is by Your grace; if You punish,
It is by Your justice, O Just One.
My good expectations in You indicate that I,
Shall turn to Your abundant kindness.
Send blessings upon the intercessor of all creation,
When the creatures will gather for resurrection.
And upon his righteous progeny,
As long as ages continue.
Poem: We Ruled this World for Centuries
Written by Hashim Al-Rifai:
We ruled this world for centuries,
And our illustrious forefathers subdued it.
We inscribed pages of light,
Which neither time forgets nor do we.
We brandished gleaming swords,
When fear arose, they refused to fail us.
When we emerged from our scabbards one day,
We witnessed terror and clear victory.
And when others hurled insults at us,
We disciplined them with noble strength.
And when a tyrant took us over,
We trampled his pride underfoot.
Our hearts overflowed with guidance and strength,
For we never turned away from oppression.
Time still circles around until,
Another group has surpassed our glory.
No longer do I see my people among the caravan,
Though they lived as leaders for years.
It pains me, and pains every free soul,
To ask: Where are the Muslims?
Will the past return? For I,
Am melting with longing for that era.
We built an era on this land with power,
Supported by ambitious youth.
Youth who paved pathways to greatness,
Knowing nothing but Islam as their creed.
He nurtured them and let them grow,
Into noble branches in this life.
They drank from blessed springs,
Causing clear waters to flow down.
When they entered the fray, they were as lions,
Assaulting strongholds and fortresses.
And when the evening fell, you would see no one,
Save them prostrating in devotion.
Youth whom the nights did not shatter,
Nor did they submit to an enemy’s humiliation.
They never tasted the cups of wine,
But the heights created their melodies.
And they pledged to the greatest of them in struggle,
And knowledge, not with their grand eyes.
They confronted tormenting traits,
And became a harmonious community.
Debauchery was unknown among our girls,
Nor did effeminacy exist among our boys.
Poem: You Are Nothing but Ignorant in This World
By Rasheed Ayyub:
You are nothing but ignorant in this world,
Unless you shine like lightning through the fog.
Passing by, it never concerns you, laughing,
Until the sun rises over the hills.
A person, if they do not construct a palace for themselves,
In the realm of dreams, suffers trials.
It spoils the façade of life, while leaving
The essence of existence untouched.
Whoever history remembers its traces,
Remains alive even when sculpted from dust.
Therefore, you find me each time my soul drifts,
Yearning for secrets beyond the veil.
The winds sway my lyre,
In a moment of remembrance.
Listen to the echoes of the strings,
From delicate harmonies.
And oftentimes through a formless night,
Alone, while my friends have succumbed to sleep.
I have navigated the currents of longing,
And I thought I had crossed boundaries.
I walked within it, and my guide was desire,
As memories and oaths propelled my path.
I converse with the stars in their horizon,
And cast my gaze over this existence.
My soul speaks to itself in aspirations,
What is the value of a person if not immortality?
Until the stars of the night are hidden,
And my sight is weary from its pursuits.
The winds sway my lyre,
In a moment of remembrance.
So listen to the echoes of the strings,
From delicate harmonies.
Poem: Take What You Can from This World and Its People
By Elia Abu Madi:
Take what you can from this world and its inhabitants,
But learn a little about how to give back.
How many roses have their fragrance, even for the thief,
Nor do they hold onto their bitterness, even for the drinker.
Could there be light in the universe to illuminate us,
If the heavens concealed their stars from us?
Or are there flowers on the earth with fragrance,
If the land does not show its flowers?
To me, the songbirds are the same,
And the leaves, if they imprison their songs.
If the soul does not reveal its pleasures,
In ease, then its wealth becomes its shame.
O worshipper of wealth, tell me, did you find within it,
A spirit that comforts you or a soul that sympathizes?
Until you, my friend, hide it and bury it,
As if it were the shame you conceal?
You deprive the soul of pleasures for which it was created,
And it did not accompany you to harm you.
Look at the water; indeed, generosity is its nature,
It comes to fields, nourishes, and protects them.
What does it harm? Except when confined,
And the soul is like water; it flows and is contained.
Is it a prison for water that injures and corrupts it?
So too is the prison for the soul; it harms and tires.
And look at the fire; indeed, its nature is destruction,
But its harsh nature leads to its own demise.
It exterminates places and domains with joy,
In ignorance that what it consumes, in turn, consumes it.
I send this message as a metaphor and simile,
Perhaps in my words, there is remembrance and warning.
Nothing is achieved in the world without effort,
Whoever desires wine should plant his vines.
Poem: Is There Not a Noble Person in This World?
- Written by Al-Mutanabbi:
Is there not a noble person in this world,
Who can relieve the heart of its burdens?
Is there not a place in this world,
Where the resident enjoys companionship?
The beasts and slaves have become similar,
Upon us, the masters, and the true essence.
And I do not know if a recent ailment
Has afflicted the people or if it is an old disease.
I found in the land of Egypt, slaves,
As if the free man among them is an orphan.
As if the black man among them,
Is a raven among doves and owls.
I took the praise upon it but found folly,
My words to Al-Uhaimiq, O patient one!
And when I did criticize, I found mere silence,
My words to Ibn Awa, O disgraceful one!
Is there not an excuse in this and that,
When pushed to illness, it is indeed sickly?
When harm comes from the lowly,
And I do not blame the wrongdoer; whom shall I blame?