Poem: Are You Safe from the Watchful Eyes of Night?
Al-Mutanabbi states:
Are you safe from the watchful eyes of night,
Wherever you are, you shine through the darkness.
The beauty’s lament is like musk, yet it has been exposed,
And she treads softly through the night like a lioness.
How I grieve for the grief you have led me to,
For in its wisdom, there lies a hidden secret.
And I complain about the pain of loss, for it was a time when
I was whole and life was full of vigor.
Your eyes, a mirror; they inflicted wounds upon my heart,
Both are so striking that they resemble the stars.
It penetrated the depths of my soul, and perhaps,
In it, the crimson falls may collide.
I am the rock of the valley; when I am cornered,
If I speak out, I am like a celestial being.
And if I remain hidden from the foolish, then pity them,
If they can’t see me, it’s because they are blind.
The nights are enveloped, casting doubt upon my intent,
Does this expose my heart to the vast wilderness?
So I remain wrapped in my own mystery,
Enduring in a struggle of silent persistence.
Between my father Abu Ali and I, it resembles a bond,
A challenge that stands high like mountains, strong and trusted.
And how despair in the land of Lebanon, should it be severed,
For winter, with their heat, becomes nothing but cold.
The snow has obscured my paths,
As if the white blanket obscures the dark.
Just as nobility emanates when it resides in a land,
Generosity flows, and waters begin to rise.
Even if time stands still, if it should witness, as it does,
It is taken aback, and nature remains quiet.
In each stroke lies a passion of longing,
Until it feels as though the ink flows in desires.
Every eye has its comfort in the presence of love,
To the point where its shadow feels embraced.
One who is guided towards actions that lead nowhere,
In words, until they become the works of poets.
Every day, rhymes take their journey,
Within the heart, and the ear listens closely.
In their pursuit, all that they claim is as if,
In every verse, a legion watches.
One who wrongs the deceitful in appointing them,
Should lay down his ambitions, for they are equal.
We recognize its virtue in their vices;
Through contrasting perspectives, things will always unfold.
Should their benefit ever loom large, yet their harm,
In their abandonment, if only enemies knew.
For peace breaks where wings are flapping,
With their gifts, what rambling cannot be mended?
With a giving hand, it fulfills its purpose,
And it is seen through the lens of its insight.
So distinct is the harmony of power,
As if both joy and affliction conjoin.
What if fortune does not turn in favor of their enemies?
It would appear that they disguise it with whatever they desire.
O spirit of great merit and wisdom,
May you not approach them with requests for favors.
Grateful for the advantages of fate, for let them not choke,
Unless the living lament your absence in their suffering.
And the heart does not become torn from its pulse,
Until perhaps, it cose to anguish the blind.
You are called, O Harun, only after absence laid claim,
While names argue over your identity to remain.
So you continued to exist, not sharing your name,
As humanity considers you an equal.
Your coverage extended even to the deepest recesses,
And the praise around you wrapped like a cocoon.
Ever generous, to the degree of being stingy against an end,
To the happiness of enduring sorrow and aching joy.
You began something, the essence of which is unknown,
And you prepared until the beginning was bewildered.
Hence, the honor in your absence would be something missed,
And glory neither grows nor diminishes rightly without cause.
So if you are asked, not due to favoritism,
If you remain quiet, like a poem tucked away.
And if praised, it is not to earn elevation,
From the grateful offering praise to the divine.
And if endowed, not because you struggle in luck,
As the productive fields bloom and the barren ground floods.
Clouds did not relate your gift, but the season was blessed,
For a flood did roll to its lands.
Those sad faces never saw the light of day,
Except through means lacking decency.
By whichever path you have walked toward greatness,
The bold crescent is a sign of your artistry.
Time protects you from the passage of time,
And your gaze defends you against danger.
If you weren’t a spark in the warmth of the harvest,
Eve would have made barren the land of her offspring,
Poem: Do We See Dreams or a New Era?
Al-Mutanabbi expresses:
Are we witnessing dreams or a new epoch?
Is creation reborn in the form of a being?
It manifested in a way that illuminated us,
As though we are stars embraced by good fortune.
We saw the moon and its ancestors,
A moon that endlessly gives birth to new light.
We sought his approval by renouncing,
What we had accepted before we chose to kneel.
A leader, forsooth, is a leader to whom generosity belongs,
A steed so reluctant to give it all.
He speaks of his virtues without causing breaks,
As if envy burns deep within.
He only advances on the path of retreat,
And he only acts towards increasing his praise.
As if your generosity approaches destiny,
And what is granted returns richer and fuller.
Perhaps in the heat of battle,
You can confirm with brazen courage.
You have revealed horror; with a desperate blade,
You have redacted thorns and seared swords.
And wealth, without any promises,
You have swiftly proceeded to where fate commands.
In the handling of swords, sparing comes to life,
Wishing they could hold their shoulders high like allies.
To the horizons you venture leads you to the keepers,
You find the world in bloom alongside the moonlit sky.
As if you bestowed unto them great wealth,
Through dawn upon your chest appears the glories.
An agony lingers for the souls of adversaries:
You have slain foes with the very steel you bear.
With every act comes the warmth of presence,
And you leave behind tales that swim in the rivers.
This is the realm where creation resided,
By all means, hear their words flow through the air.
Fortified, the thirst of the spirit is quenched,
And the rhythm of life beats through every path.
May the bounty shower over those you embrace,
And may you remain celestial through time.
These are passing tribulations for every heart,
In deep knowledge of where wisdom lies.
You, o heart, bless the well in honor and abundance,[…]
The above rewrite provides a professional tone while adapting the original Arabic poem into a similar, yet distinct English version. The meaning and essence of the poems have been preserved, and the structure has been adjusted for clarity and fluidity. The modifications also promote search engine optimization (SEO) friendliness through the use of organized headings and relevant keywords.