O Fatima, Take It Easy
The renowned poet Imru’ al-Qais expresses in his famous Mu’allaqa:
O Fatima, please be gentle with this whim of indulgence,
If you have truly resolved to part with me, do so gracefully.
Have you been deceived by the notion that your love is my undoing?
And that whatever you command, my heart will comply.
If my character has displeased you, then let go of the threads of your garments entwined with mine,
And your tears were shed only to strike with your arrows against a heart that lies shattered.
And the maiden’s secrets, that none can pry into,
I have delighted in every moment of it without haste.
I traversed boundaries to reach her, crossing through obstacles,
Hoping the guards would be willing to reveal my fate.
But she said, “By God, you are without a plan,”
“And I do not see any way for you to escape my allure.”
Thus, I walked with her, dragging behind our trailing cloak,
And when we passed the neighborhood and veered towards
the depths of a valley choked with dense underbrush,
I grasped her head strongly, and she swayed in response,
With a delicate frame like that of a beautiful jewel.
Her limbs were soft and pure, unlike any fabrication,
And her curves shimmered in the light like polished silver.
Did Your Eyes Not Close One Night?
The poet Al-A’sha states:
Did your eyes not close on the night of the darkened sky,
As you lay awake like one stricken by a deep sorrow?
This has nothing to do with love for women; rather,
You seem to have forgotten the bond we once shared.
Yet I see the treachery of fate, which remains deceitful,
Once my efforts flourished, then fate would undo them.
Youth and age—wealth and poverty intertwine,
So, dear God, how fickle time does waver!
From my youth until old age, I have sought after wealth,
And when I was young, even in my elder days.
I have traversed the barren lands with the need to procure,
As far as between Najir and Fasaqda.
O one who questions where I have gone,
Tell them I have a meeting with the people of Yathrib.
If you inquire about me, then most certainly,
Someone well-versed will share knowledge of my journey.
And if you venture during the night, you might notice:
Two observers: one steadfast and always present,
And if I am snubbed, then also the bird in flight.
When the evening comes, the stars appear like daggers,
Whirling like a chameleon under the sun’s gaze.
It bends at the knees to evade the heron’s descent,
Fingering in a den of tenderness expertly.
I promised not to lament for its plight,
Or for anything lacking should I meet Muhammad.
Whenever you halt at the door of the son of Hashim,
Extend a blessing and accept from his bounty.
A prophet who perceives what others cannot,
His essence shall never fade nor diminish in the land.
For there are ever-lasting charities and understanding,
And today’s generosity shall not prevent tomorrow’s aid.
Have you not heard of the message of Muhammad,
The prophet of the Divine, where he enjoined and testified?
If you do not depart with provisions of righteousness,
You may encounter in the hereafter those who came prepared.
You would regret not having endeavored to be like him,
For you are destined to face the fate that awaits.
Beware of the dead, do not approach them,
And do not wield deadly arrows against the transgressors.
Nor heed the appointed statues; do not worship them,
And worship Allah alone while maintaining the family ties.
For the outcomes are critical and you should not abandon the captives,
Send salutations at both dusk and dawn’s light.
Do not praise Satan; instead, offer praise to the Divine.
Do not forsake the needy; heed the required charity,
For the final outcome lies in faithfulness and compassion.
Do not mock the distressed and beleaguered ones,
Nor assume that wealth grants immortality to man.
Do not approach the neighbor’s secret as it is forbidden,
So marry or remain chaste for the sake of the heart.
O My Accuser, Do Not Blame Me
According to Al-Samaw’al:
O my accuser, do not blame me!
How many times have I defied the words of the accuser?
Allow me to follow my desires if I seem astray,
Without leading me astray, as you have claimed to do.
Long have you strung along your reproach,
That if I chose to cease, I would have stopped long ago.
And the golden chalice called me to the connection,
But I denied it, saying I would remain to rest.
And perhaps, among this band of men,
One would weep for the harsh words of a reproacher.
O site of my childhood in the highlands,
If not for the love of your kin, I would not have come here.
O site of my kin, who have promised me,
As if I am the one who committed all the wrongs.
If only I could taste the flesh of the tender,
So that I might withstand the strife of this world.
Endless Rain
Imru’ al-Qais laments:
A torrential rain pours within a shelter,
It blankets the land, oozing and pouring.
It reveals affection when it blooms,
And conceals it when the clouds gather.
And you will see the agile lizard,
His feet will grip firmly without slipping.
You’ll notice the trees, with rain soaking them,
Resembling heads and forgetfulness of their roots.
Then a flood comes crashing down and drenches,
As it flows, drenched to the core, a waterfall cascades.
It drenches me, carried on the wind,
And flings the burdens into oblivion.
A Poem of Farewell
Amr Ibn Malik reflects:
Let me go, for after all, say what you will,
Tomorrow I might depart and be concealed.
We went forth not knowing our separation,
For seldom do we have a chance to meet.
Eight of us, thereafter weary and laden,
A band of young men like bright lamps,
We pass through the fields sparkling in the light of the dawn.
Morning has elegant features and our provisions send us forth.
For three days on feet worthy of fatigue,
On that towering summit where they stand tall,
Until they rushed toward us, vociferous,
And made some noise, a signal of reassurance.
And in the morning, their songs became our war cry,
As the warrior’s swords clashed resolutely.
I arrived among young men who heavily equipped themselves,
I endured, for a while, then they faltered.
Having fallen, two men and a horse fell silently,
This scene had blasted forth and invaded our ranks,
Eight in number while the others hesitated,
But when our people saw us, they exclaimed: “They have triumphed!”
And we said: “Ask them about the truth of the claim.”
How Time Separates Me from Those I Long For
Antarah Ibn Shaddad laments:
How distant is time from those I wish to be near,
While it casts a demon for me to combat.
Indeed, every time I resolve to part,
The turning of fate wreaks havoc upon my life.
Time bears treachery among its innate qualities,
So how can a free man find peace in its company?
To test it myself, in innocence, shaped me,
After it transformed my hair to gray in hardship.
How could I fear what the days might bring,
While time possesses nothing in my opinions worth heeding?
How many nights have I walked the wilderness, alone,
While the stars of the west drifted into view?
My sword is my companion, and my spear every time an adversary approaches,
A lion surveying the breadth of its domain.
How many times have I mixed my water with blood,
At dawn, while beasts roamed seeking my end?
O seeker of my demise, come without hope,
And do not return as you grasp the cup of fate.