The Arabic Language Poem by Poet Hamad bin Khalifa Abu Shuhab
O Language of the Quran, you are the sun of guidance,
Protected by the Almighty from plots of the adversary.
Is there any language upon this earth
That has left an echo in the ears of time,
Much like yours, in a world
To which it knew nothing at all?
You embraced it, and it became a scholar,
Seeking your teachings and singing your praises.
On your foundation, knowledge was established,
A testimony that comes after the subject.
You taught those who understand
That true intelligence lies in what does not corrupt.
You laid down the noun and verb,
Not leaving the letter unrestrained, its master.
You are the one who rectified those who
Are unaware of the text and hurt the authentic.
Through you, we are the ideal nation,
Concise in speech and eloquent in expression.
Within your folds lies the most precious gem,
That the singer has chanted and embraced.
In clear expression, the dawn has risen,
From which it called upon you, like the bright star.
We taught humanity through you the guidance,
And with you, we chose eloquence in expression.
We planted with you everlasting glory
That challenges the lofty and the durable.
Above the expanses, its echoes
And with you, history sang and rejoiced.
It was not in vain that God chose you among us,
Nor did He select you for the religion in vain.
You are a light and guidance from Adnan,
You are from Qahatan, a faithful delegation.
A language by which God revealed
Clear signs and guidance from Him.
If it were not for the sweet poetry,
There would be no melodies guiding me at night.
The sounds of horses from its calls,
And the echoes of the honored steeds.
Once I feared the traps of its enemies,
But today, I fear the traps of its ignorant speakers.
Those who follow misguidance and abandon righteousness.
O leaders, is there anyone listening,
When I call upon this plea?
This pure Arabic, which we glorify through,
A spirit of the Arabs that preserves it,
Safeguarding the soul along with the body.
If you desire a pure language,
That revives the past with nobility and honor,
Then choose its masters,
For when they speak of it, they sing.
And when they express it, their words shine bright
As gems adorning the precious crown.
O vessel of religion and this life together,
You are sufficient for me, with the Quran as a memory and recitation,
In an Arabic tongue flourishing,
Like the sweet waters of the Euphrates and the Barada,
Whenever the devil of desire leads you
Astray, the sultan of guidance saves you.
A Poem by Poet Hafiz Ibrahim
I returned to myself and accused my stones,
And called upon my people, surrendering my life.
They accused me of impotence in my youth; I wish that I
Had become barren, yet I did not despair at the words of my enemies.
I was born, and when I found no men of honor for my daughters,
I was filled with glory, yet I could not find any worthy peers.
My heart expanded with the Book of God in meaning and purpose,
And I was not restricted by any verses or sermons,
So how could I narrow my descriptions of a machine
And the arrangement of names for inventions?
I am like the sea; in its depths, pearls are hidden,
So have they ever asked the diver about my shells?
Woe to you! My merits fade, and they fade even more,
And among you, it is rare to find a remedy for my flaws.
Do not leave me to time, for I fear for you
That my death will soon come.
I see that Western men possess glory and strength
And many nations prosper through the glory of languages.
They bring their people miracles in artistry,
So I wish you to come bearing words.
Does the cawing from the West invigorate you,
Calling for my ruin during the spring of my life?
And if you were to scare the birds, then one day you would learn
What lies beneath them is stumbling and disarray.
May God grant life to the features of the peninsula,
That is hesitant to soften my resolve.
They have preserved my affection through hardship, and I preserved them,
With a heart deeply burdened with sorrow and regret.
I have boasted to the people of the West, while the East remained silent,
In shame before those tired bones.
I see each day in the newspapers a descent,
From the grave, drawing me without any mercy.
And I hear writers in Egypt creating a ruckus,
Knowing that the shouters are lamenting
Are my people—may God pardon them—
To a language that has not connected with its narrators.
The dirt of the Europeans has flowed into it just as
Snake poison does into the flow of the Euphrates.
So it has come like a garment fitted with seventy patches,
Composed of various colors and varied designs.
To the assembly of writers, when they gather freely,
I have laid forth my hope after laying bare my grievances.
Either a life that resurrects the dead in decay
And brings forth from those hills my remains,
Or a death from which there is no resurrection,
A death that, by my life, cannot be compared to a tragic end.
The Language of the Dhad by Poet Sabah Al-Hakim
I do not write to seek fame,
Nor do I write to ascend to the moon.
I only write in a language
That has settled in my heart since childhood.
The Language of the Dhad, how beautiful it is!
I will sing it until I fade away.
I will wander in its fields passionately,
Chiseling the rock and watching my words flourish.
I do not care for those who wound me,
For I see brilliance in each scratch.
I challenge anyone who tries to stop me;
Indeed, they are of a dull taste.
I am a soldier, my sword is my pen,
And the letters of the Dhad reside within.
My pen of ink will wage war,
Unfazed by death or danger.
My heart is entranced by you, my nation,
Intoxicated in your affection until inebriated.
In the pursuit of knowledge, I do not shy away;
I seek ideas from all humanity.
I am like a bird, singing my pain,
And my poetry plays the melody.
My Beautiful Language by Poet Adnan Al-Nahwi
Why have I discarded my garments and fled to
Another, asking him for attire and adornments?
Indeed, I once held garments adorned with splendor,
Pride that shone upon me as I established myself.
They enriched me and warmed my body,
Providing me with solace and igniting my resolve.
In it, the gems of my morals flowed,
Illuminating and sending forth beams of purity.
Indeed, nations of the earth sought me,
For a garment to cover their vices and ailments.
The hand of generosity extended a treasure of jewels,
They adorned them, as they were once aimless.
This eloquence has shaped itself into a miracle,
Flowing through time, its glory persists.
Draped in guidance, adorned with miracles,
Or a gem that embellished the shoulders and sides.
Its fabric is the language of the Quran, its essence,
Verses from God, truly magnificent and complete.
A fountain that overflows upon the world,
Filling it with abundance from its springs.
Or like a meadow that generously nourishes the land with its aroma,
Throughout time remains vibrant and lush.
It resounds with his guidance, answering the calls,
With dawn to extend its blessings and shadows.
And whosoever is touched by the heat of the furnace,
Will return to it to seek relief and comfort.
I wonder! What has befallen my people, they have turned away and fled,
Hoping for the glories of the end and neglecting the humble.
They did not obtain from the lands of the West nobility,
From self-sufficiency nor a growing knowledge.
Yet they took from me the language, though
God granted them the beauty of eloquence, naturally balanced.
Alas! They exchanged proficiency for fluency,
And for a rich expression, they replaced riches.
The tongue is the food of thought,
Carrying either knowledge or erratic thoughts.
It continues to nourish the mind with either good or misguidance,
Responding to virtue or deception.
The non-Arab carries a tongue filled with wonder,
Seeing it mixing in the intermingled grasses.
He did not carry guidance, no light in his sources,
Nor did the truth surface, only persistence remained.
So let it be, from the tongue of Dhad, that it possesses,
A bounty of light or a stream of purity that shines.
That is indeed the eloquent language that flourished and bloomed,
Descending and bestowing a virtue of guidance.
And He, and the Messenger of God, carried it forth,
In time and in verses, he fulfilled his task.
And it is a treasure that does not fade from its gems,
That enriches the nights, just as it has enriched the early ones.
It continues to release from its pearls,
A rich bounty over the timeline, unceasing in its generosity.
So return to the pure language of the Quran,
Clear in your path, whether easy or steep.
It illuminates a straight path, free of crookedness,
Where you will not find temptations nor shadows.
It reveals but a single way always,
And for the misled, it shall guide them towards paths.