Poem to a Friend
- The poet Elyas Abu Madi states:
Those who are unsupported by companions are not secure,
So shatter your pen and break the inkpot,
Have mercy on your youthful days, for they
Do not bear their burdens while you endure pain.
How long will you call them while they slumber?
Do you think you can hear their murmurs?
There is a deafness ruling their ears
As if there were a silence within them.
People need motivation,
Or are you among those who create aspirations?
By God, if you were the son of Saada,
You would have acquired manners like Hatim Tai’s nobility,
Surpassing Galen in wisdom,
And knowledge exceeding Aristotle’s ethics.
You would have preceded Columbus on his voyage,
And shone like Edison in his persistence,
Extracting pearls from the sea’s depths,
Bestowing upon them a glorious path.
You revealed the secrets of existence to them,
Transforming every outcast into a nation.
In them, I found no accusations,
For I discovered that the free was often condemned.
They disdain life, thus there are no blessings for them,
Though the world acknowledged them, yet they found no condemnation.
It’s as if they were created apart from it,
Preferring emptiness instead of greatness.
Why do you see them, every time they belong,
They become indistinct, neither Arab nor foreign?
They lack significance, despite their claims,
All the while the West remains a powerhouse in their eyes.
Weak against their ignorance,
For the strong remain united as one,
Just as the sea grows vast when gathered.
Yet it seems light with storms as it breaks apart,
Walls only crumble when they disregard their paths.
The nation will never rise again,
As long as internal conflicts persist.
Oh, the struggles the scholar endures,
In a nation that resembles no other.
If they speak openly, their honor does not survive,
And every sin concealed brings them down.
They cry, while others mock them lightly;
And ignorance seems to laugh in sorrow.
Life goes on without realizing its meaning,
And indeed, it will pass without their insight.
Faltering, one shouldn’t be surprised when crushed,
The lion, without its strength, faces the same fate.
For I have seen the world and its nature,
Like the sea that consumes its fish unnecessarily.
Merciless towards the one without valor,
Or to the fierce lion that spares no wrongdoer.
My companion, love draws me closer;
To the point I believe there’s a bond between us.
What does it matter, as long as affection remains,
That we are not all whole together?
People read what you write,
In ink, while your brother reads it in blood.
Preserve your soul, hold it tightly,
For the fingers ache, feeling regret.
How could you misinterpret their natures,
Until the earth transforms into the sky?
They visited you without revealing their essence,
Bright yet their light is shadowed.
My hands prefigured their worries,
And spoke when they guided them in silence.
When compared to their wonders,
Their marvels were but a facade.
Like a wine I’ve never heard before,
Drunken with sweetness and dignity,
Uncovering the vastness, a brother to the storms,
Forgetting the worst in the wilderness.
Engulfing me, like my soul filled with pain.
If the stars remained in their places,
If only you wished to bring them down.
Poem of Remembrance and Loyalty
- The poet Abdul Rahman Al-Ashmawi mentions:
Forgive me if a friend takes the hardest path,
And if he hurls arrows at me, sharp and accurate.
If he forgets loyalty, leaving no space
For friendship in the stormy sea of conflict.
Indeed, I overlook my friend each time
He rages in disputes, spilling forth bitterness.
And I feel deep regret because he has become
Like a treacherous wolf, cunning yet fearful.
I see him in dire need of that which
Can rescue him from the fall if he stumbles.
They say, “He has thrown an arrow at you,”
And persists in matters that do not bode well,
His circumstances have changed, and he has become
A reflection of the shades that are less appealing.
So I responded to those who said I should not,
That I still hope for forgiveness for what he has done.
They say he has grown distant; I replied, “How many people
Have turned into companions of sorrow, unfortunate?”
“They say he bears grudges; I declare, that is his problem,
If he chooses grievance to be his mantra.”
“They say he has concealed the truth; I state,
What is my concern with the one who fabricated falsehoods?”
I implore those who have been wronged by their friends:
Be the light in the darkness of betrayal,
If he hides in the corners of his resentment,
Then be the spacious skies he yearns for.
And if a friend persists in his transgressions,
Know that wisdom has left him behind.
And cast him aside until he regains himself,
For I believe that abandoning the obstinate is wise.
Be steadfast like “Shada” and “Huznah,”
Whenever you encounter a troubled heart.
To the one whose conscience has slipped away,
And to the one who has diminished the meaning of loyalty:
How many friends have forged heartache in life,
And have sown the seeds of a heart’s alteration?
Poem of Celebration, Memory, and Loyalty
- The poet Ibrahim Nagy expresses:
Here lies a celebration embodying remembrance and loyalty,
Oh beloved, you are the answer to friends’ calls.
How burdensome this alienation feels,
When days drag on with a tedious pace.
Death has claimed the dearest of friends,
And laid him to rest among the truest loyal ones.
I shall not forget you, as you came forth,
To share the betrayal of a friend who wronged.
Ah, the wounds of the heart endure,
While the pain remains within fathers’ restraint.
Each time you feel the ache,
Know that you have hidden it beneath pride.
O you who complain of time, take heart,
For we are all in this agony together.
All the wounds you have suffered,
Leave nothing of our souls but crimson marks.
For life wrapped therein did not heal us,
And time has lost its burden and hope.
Then came forth death and whispered,
“They will heal after all stubbornness has been mended.”
I do not mourn you; how could I mourn him who is eternal,
In the arms of eternity, deserving of reward?
How can I lament such a noble soul
Who lived on the blessings of others’ prayers?
This life holds wealth only in
Meagerness, and the greats’ drought.
This life is a noble who lived for others,
Giving from his strength until his end.
And when he dies, he truly lived within you,
Thus, he is worthy of remembrance eternally.
This poet has consoled you,
And wept for your sorrows most thoroughly.
This poet has sung for you,
Echoing the joys of your happiness.
And the poets are the lanterns that shine,
Even amidst the storms of the desert.
They have immortalized their lights despite decay,
Guiding the weary through the night.
Only their words will endure,
And people will vanish except for poets.
Return to us, a restless breeze,
With whispers of longing and devotion.
Then soar on wings to
A world we are thirsting for.
Fly and ease your wings over
The grounds burdened with thorns stemming from pain.
Let’s Be Friends
- The poet Nazik Al-Malaika writes:
Let us be friends
In the labyrinth of this sorrowful existence,
Where destruction walks and death flourishes,
In the corners of slow nights,
Where the cries of the victims linger,
Mocking hope.
Let us be friends
For the eyes of fate,
Cold and removed,
Observe the weary souls
In the paths of sorrow and moans,
Under the whip of time, restless.
Let us be friends
For the hands that know how to steal blood,
And sever the bonds of the innocents.
Will sense an echo of feelings,
Each time they touch a finger or a hand,
And the eyes long accustomed to arrogance,
Watch the procession of darkness,
That of the enslaved and the oppressed.
These vacant eyes
Will feel life,
And the dull rigidity will melt away,
Behind them a thousand new veins.
And the hearts that have heard the cries
Of the thirsty, starving souls,
Will dissolve to quench the echoes of the parched,
Offering cups filled with moans.
Let us be friends
With the confused,
With the estranged wearied souls,
And with those called “criminals,”
With the unfortunate ones,
With the intoxicated by the wine of luxury,
With those sleeping in the wilderness beneath the sky,
With the lost without refuge,
With the wretched calling out in despair,
With the imprisoned,
With other nations
In the seas of snow,
In the lands engulfed in slumber,
Across the deserts and on every ground that holds humanity.
All lands have listened to our pain,
All lands have received the coffins holding our dreams,
And understood the cries of discontent
From the victims of fate.
Let us be friends
For there exists a voice behind the blood,
In the veins of those who drank from cups of hostility,
In the veins of those who remain like drunken men,
Stabbing away at brotherhood,
Stabbing their dearest ones in the name of anger.
In the veins of lovers fleeing
From their beloved, from the call of nostalgia.
In every vein
There exists a voice within every thumping heart,
Unifying the estranged brothers,
And binding the hearts of the suffering and cheerful together.
That voice, the voice of brotherhood,
So let us be friends
Across distant lands
And beyond the seas,
In the deserts, in the poles, in tranquil cities,
In the calm villages
Friends of humanity,
Friends who cry out, “Where to flee?”
And shout out with a waning tone,
Leaving this life in a deadly solitude.
Starving friends, shoeless and naked,
Spat out by the lips of life,
They are the unfortunate ones.
So let us be friends
From afar.
A voice of strong winds,
Passing a thousand protracted cries
From the howls of the victims beyond the borders
In the realms of existence.
Victims of struggle
And victims of shackles,
And the echoes of “Hiawatha” there,
Burdened by the lament of the starving,
In distress from the fever’s flames,
By those who die without farewells,
Without knowing a mother,
Without fathers,
Without friends.
Miscellaneous Poems on Friendship
- The poet Mahmoud Sami Al-Baroudi expresses:
A true friend is not defined by status,
But rather by virtues that shine from within.
If misfortune strikes you, his resolve will not falter,
Should sorrow befall you, he will remain steadfast.
He cares for you in times of distance and closeness,
And never shirks from the good he can offer.
Not like one who feigns affection while resentment brews,
Whose hidden grudges simmer beneath the surface.
He criticizes his friend, exhibiting sorrow,
Only to mislead others into thinking he embodies grief.
But that is merely a facade; beware of him,
And know that God shall be his adversary.
- The poet Ibn Nabata Al-Masri mentions:
I have lost hope in your friendship,
When your indifference became undeniable.
And how strange is time if we reflect on it:
A friend who never brings forth a companion.