The Poem “Destiny has Carried You Away”
As expressed by the poet Ahmed Al-Kashif:
Destiny has carried you away,
And you departed without an expected appointment,
Nourished by the desires of solitude,
With no way to return from this journey.
You arrived at the endpoint of the departed,
Though their paths and stories were numerous.
In a fleeting moment within the orbit of time,
You have fallen and vanished from the heights.
And what once filled the eyes
Has transformed into merely a trace or news amongst your people.
Did death present its reasons
That you favored its briefest path?
Will you, after the separation, leave
This place or have you fully spent your desire here?
And will I remain behind, among companions,
As I mourn their waves and tribes?
Each day, the quill feels the fever,
Grieving for the loss of a lion or a moon.
For whoever has been absent from my side or distanced,
Will surely be followed by those who are near or present.
They turned away, and around me are their statues,
They converse about them, those images.
Hamid the revered, and what remains of the coming,
With the grand palaces, buried in graves.
My tears flowed powerfully from my blood,
Carrying lessons and wisdom, filled with profound reflections.
I grew furious for the freedom of speakers,
While there’s not much patience to be had when zealous.
Indeed, it seems that the burden of dignity
Is lighter than its oppression and grievance.
And the struggle between powers in life
Is greater than that of thoughts and ideologies.
The noble’s insistence on his opinion
Is akin to the wealthy’s concern for what he has safeguarded.
And what proof does a person have in his belief
Except for the wealth he gathers in the wilderness?
The victorious in chastity is nothing but he
Who persists on his promise and continues.
You will greet him when the friend turns away,
Even if he were of stone, he would surely break.
Your silence amidst the clamoring
Says more than any spontaneous words could ever illustrate.
Even if the words of the martyr
Fell upon a rebellious mountain, they would settle.
And if time had a tongue for what has transpired,
Then a heart would apologize to you.
Sometimes the wounds are washed by the tears of the injured,
Yet cannot be cleaned by the rains that pour.
It grieves the Arabs today that
You are absent from the assembly and the conference,
And you, indeed, are among the closest of them,
As if you were from Hashim or Mudar.
They took part of the greyness, and young
Leaders stood out among them, amongst the tribes and towns.
Your father was one of the first, noble and pure,
So you are the brother of other noble souls.
Both noble descendants and the youthful leaders,
Each one a chief within his tribe, a distinguished figure.
I had a fond place in my heart for you both,
A satisfaction that filled my sight.
True bonds of friendship that did not weaken
By the recurrence of afflictions and the passing of change.
I remembered you in the gathering of the memories,
While the night of sorrow is different from the night of revelry.
And I mourned for you, the most esteemed of the noble,
And grieved for you, the greatest of families.
I became weary of life which has brought me
Nothing but bitterness and distress
And I was content with its thorns,
When the flowers and fruits were out of reach.
What I carried in youth does not weigh me down in old age.
Can I bear it when calamity strikes,
It’s all the same to yield to it or to be cautious.
And all I can rely on in my tribulation is that
I have recognized who is from the good and who has broken.
And this resurrection in its terror,
How then can one find safety and where is the escape?
Will war ever bring down its burdens,
And will dawn erase the darkness of despair?
And will he who faced it plunge forth
To be embraced by mercy and to ultimately triumph?
Thus humanity shall face this new world,
Welcoming peace, for the best of humanity.
The Poem “Your Cry on Separation, O Mother of Eyebrow”
Poet Ibrahim Ibn Qais Al-Hadhrami expresses:
Your cry on the day of separation, O Mother of Eyebrow,
And your sorrow from losing a companion close.
May you be delighted afterwards by his return when
Those of fine lineage bring you glad tidings.
By your life, I have neither turned away from you by night
Nor have I forgotten you in disdain, nor your faults.
However, the seekers of honor are prior to calm rest
In a state of humiliation between desires.
Leave me from the dullness of common folk,
When floods of tears from the grief of goodbyes overwhelm me.
Ask of a youth who has traversed the seas,
And journeyed through darker nights upon noble steeds.
Nor did he close an eye since the day he parted from his land,
Until he visits it, honoring it with his sword.
With wealth, shields, and the standard which
Casts down the throats of the envious.
I carry forth lament for an irreplaceable place,
With no equal amongst the eastern lands or the horizons.
Before the defenders, the nose speaks of sincerity,
He is dear and wide-hearted, bestowed with ample talents.
He is of the elegant state whose matter flourished,
Alongside the judge of Muslims, the most noble.
They took residence therein, and her people settled,
As the sea teems with a thriving fish.
They willingly left the world behind and united
Against its trials when it would burden them.
With a determination leading them to the highest ranks,
They persevered within glory.
Congratulations to whoever awoke and tonight beholds
Them, admiring their lineaments like the sunlit sky.
For I was only but hopeful to them,
My glance busy with my inquiring eyes.
Unquestionably, my heart since their absence,
Is grieving, and my chest is burdened.
It was on the day of separation, that I echoed with their parting,
With a circle of companions as bright as stars.
An entourage of truth established upon every teaching,
Rooted in guidance, aspiring for honorable outcomes.
In the fields of Nazwa, dedicated to virtue and chastity,
And a patient spirit akin to the steadfast mountains.
If I were to have a soul and a companionship with them,
With ambition directed towards noble ends,
I had to aim for the loftiest of needs.
But I find joy amongst them from my quest,
And became their chancellor of aspirations.
And what delights a person more than success,
When one returns from his needs unfrustrated.
I say to an elder of Bani Qais with an appearance of valor,
Sharp in encounter, noble of high virtue.
Keen in spirit, and worthy in reputation,
To your lineage and kin are my words—true or untrue?
Did I bring for you the fortunes and glory? Rejoice
With a pleasant life or admirable outcomes.
And the youth have not been created except for such a purpose,
And if not, they were more worthy of wearing their garments.
Do you not see that the nobles breathe life into their affairs,
It’s a youth who does not endure oppression from merely taxes.
If a debt is paid, I seek vigilance in revenge,
And I will oppose every adversary with their strategy.
If I do not raise the call to arms, it shall not surpass
Even a day in strength or glory in my side.
I will spark the fire of war until I ignite it,
In a valley covered by the blankets of fog.
I will reveal the sorrow of Hadhramaut through the battle,
To settle the fate of her lions and their traces.
I will fulfill the rights of steel with the number of its draws,
And I am content with what I offer to lions in the wilderness.
For I cannot see a right standing on its ridge,
Nor fall short unless I hear the lamenting voices.
And no one in distress will cry for a town,
To weep for its losses, If it is a wonder.
When I hoist my sharp sword, I shall become
A tyrant among mortals, stripped of their garments.
And goodness lies only in swords and in their sways,
Cast upon heads or upon brows.
With them, we regain paradise, nymphs, and glory,
With precaution against the prides and searching for merits.
And brandishing a sword for God for an hour
Is worth more than sixty years of a monk’s worship.
Thus the sword is a fortress and a refuge,
Until I face the blade, my only companion.
Longing for battle when the day is grim,
And my heart consumes the terror amidst the ranks.
Like Ibn Yahya, Ibn Awf, and Abarah
And Belj, and Murad, and like Ibn Rasib.
Life has deprived my desires; if I am contented with my heart,
I have a fate akin to the one sent on the battlefronts.
Truly, if I die, then may I die, yet if I persist,
How many of wars blaze and necessities remain.
O Lord, when the day of war reaches us before:
A grievous man and the depths are ominous and profound.
Look at the people amidst the sea in despair,
With blood-stained corps and fleeing.
Then every soul will proclaim its truth,
And all my burdens among the unmet.
The brigands recognize my sincerity,
And contemplate what I promised amidst all battles.
I marvel at the ignoble commoners, forsaken and weak,
Sabotaging every grieving creature or writer.
It is lawful to eliminate everyone loathed,
In a land where the foxes hold dominion.
And woe to the wretched soul who seizes its affairs,
It’s a foolish boaster whose pride resides in failures.
He boasts if their instruments produce resonating sounds,
And joins in pleasures with incessant distractions.
In the day of tragedy, they shall learn that we
Increase in strength during harrowing adversities.
And whosoever wishes for disgraceful death
Shall be trampled by every mighty, no longer recoiling.
And I have my share of the battlefield from my kin,
A Band like bright shining stars.
When my light dims in the shadows cast by doubt,
Someone’s life shall burst with tenderness.
There the screams of flames call me forth,
To the very injustice pervading the land.
Here the flames of sedition arise high
With fuel that ignites the whole situation.
This is the time; the souls remain restless,
She dropped her reins, the turmoil afflicts her profoundly.
As others followed suit, their responsibilities became burdensome,
While we remain uncertain, lost in our questions.
The Poem “Will the Ruins Move You to Weep”
Poet Ru’bah Ibn Al-Ajjaj articulates:
Will the ruins move you to weep,
As if they were pages of an ancient script,
As my ship and my she-camel remain trapped,
Awaiting the harvest, when misfortune reaps.
A wild throng that none among the tyrants can govern,
From me, even if invoked by Iblis.
And certainly, my heart harbors a secret longing,
For an essence restless within.
In the skin of this time-worn fabric,
When the misguided mingle with the hopeful.
When I recall my years that seem shadowy,
And the power of their unity shines before me.
In this council where the spirited youth protect
Their glories and their secrets.
And with every pulsating beat of my horse,
It echoes back to my longing heart.
And I would pour forth the waters of yearning,
Seeking the reminders of the past and the passages of love.
As if I had never trailed my mantle through their domains,
And not captured the gaze of captivating maidens.
When they saw me, they bowed sedately,
A fine mare as I traversed the path.
They removed themselves from the hidden depths,
Like sparks emitted from a lit fire.
And how many groups I’ve gathered, resolute and brave,
Stirring in their wake clouds of fine dust.
And I lingered beneath the flag of indulgence,
When my grip believed it was anchored there forever.
Yet this flag never showed me affection,
Nor did it cloak those of lineage that protect me.
And one day I found them beneath the stars,
Accusing my silence of leading me astray.
They did indeed ask: “Have you not longed for our bonds?”
Shame has shattered around me, and moments relapse into darkness.
Have you not known me amidst pain and suffering,
And have you neglected to guard our bond?
Could you, without hesitation, grant me the depths of your love,
In a moment far from my beloved corner of comfort?
So she responded: “By the deity who created mankind…”,
“And engraved the motions of the stars in the heavens,
Your love is my yearning and the joy of my heart,
And I wish not to abandon you or choose the path of the heart’s bitter struggles.”
Then I said while my tears flowed abundantly,
As grief rekindled the fires in my heart.
Is this anguish; is there any pain? Tell me!
Except that I conceal my depths as they burn fiercely.
For I have traversed toward you across a vast wasteland,
On sands resembling your graceful forms.
I grieved without ever having tasted the pampering of security,
At every bolt of lightning that faded just as it shone.
And have you perceived with discerning eyes a sign of lineaments,
Among wandering and traveling companions?
They rose from their resting places in splendid tents,
Only to distance themselves from the tent’s embrace.
And this blessed day is endless in its journey,
Chasing shadows of yesteryears.
And today I bear witness to a line drawn beneath a cloak,
Even if it glimmers of happiness at its luster.
I am indeed a son of those who achieved glory,
So ask about my lineage and grandeur.
Surely, I am the loftiest of the leaders of Al-Azd,
With greatness and attained glories unsurpassed.
I am the most distinguished and the most noble,
And the one whose honor transcends the boundaries.
And I have the highest nobility and valiant qualities,
And defends them against those who think to take them from me.
So ask of the companionship of champions and brothers,
When the fires blaze in the midst of the battlefield.
And I am the wealth of one who claims not any,
And the support of the wronged beseeching refuge.
In the face of an unfolding calamity wherein battles are fond,
I reign, as the valiant hearts know no frustration.
If ever a glance toward the foes confronts me,
It will reveal my sword blessed with time and resolution.
And I must never falter or shy away from danger,
For honor requires me to wield the sword of valor.
Steadfast and true shall be my countenance to the honorable,
And I shall bestow what I must protect to uphold my honor,
Even when each act shall reveal the nature of faith to the earth—
This is the abode of light and the home of courage.
The Poem “Will Your Eyes Weep with Tears?”
Poet Muhammad ibn Bashir Al-Khariji states:
Will your eyes weep with tears and rejoice,
For kin, may Zayd have not insulted.
Nor can the name of Zayd be uttered
Without a heartfelt tear in the memory of a grave that lies still.
I never saw Zayd’s face in any earthly dwelling
Except where it adorned the very ground itself.
By my father, how could the calamity escape us,
Overwhelming all men, afflicting Qusaiya with its burden?
And how shall we find a likeness to Zayd, and his kin,
A wielder of divine verses and a trustworthy guardian?
He was an ally to both generosity and kindness,
And left the world in its bounty and its frailty.
In the morning light, it shone brilliantly upon him,
For he roams the earth beneath the weight of the sky.
Awaken every sorrowful heart under its veil,
In a bitter land to rise above man’s wrongs.
Upon the stones of Zaid beds of grief,
I find the pure fate binding man’s generosity.
Sound the horns of our loss, for we are solemn,
And we dance with despair, baffled, amongst the mournful souls.
Yet our feet falter before the truth, bewildered,
As we rise weightless amid the vastness of grief.
The late fortunes shall overtake, however, with subdued hearts,
This passion deepens like a wound seeking healing.
May the heavens shower abundance in the grave,
Where lies the dust of Zayd in peace and repose.