Beloved
Words and language often fall short when it comes to describing the beloved and the emotions that stir within the heart upon seeing them. Poets and writers have long grappled with finding the perfect words to encapsulate the beauty of the beloved and the sentiments surrounding them. Here, we present a collection of the most exquisite expressions about the beloved.
Beautiful Expressions About the Beloved
- Love, my dear, is a continuity and purity, whereas hatred signifies death and misery.
- Love is the most powerful form of enchantment, my darling.
- A love without fidelity is like a structure without a foundation.
- The endurance of love lies in the respect we maintain.
- The more our love deepens, my dear, the greater our fear of wronging those we cherish.
- For love, my beloved, there are twenty pairs of eyes.
- Conflicts between lovers serve to renew their love.
- We forgive, my dear, as long as we love.
- He who loves the tree also loves the branches.
- Love and cough cannot be concealed.
- A man loves with his eyes while a woman loves with her ears.
- It’s easy to drive out an army that occupies your homeland, but it’s difficult to expel a lover who has taken over your heart.
- I love you, my dear, as many times as lovers have uttered the words ‘I love you,’ and as many times as the word has been inscribed on paper.
Poetic Verses About the Beloved
Poem for the Beloved of Sound Judgment and Affection
This poem, written by the esteemed poet Al-Sharif Al-Razi, whose full name is Muhammad bin Al-Husayn bin Musa Abu Al-Hasan Al-Razi Al-‘Alawi Al-Husaini Al-Mousawi, reflects deep sentiments of love and admiration. Born and deceased in Baghdad, he is recognized as one of the most celebrated poets of the Abbasid era, possessing a vast collection of poetry.
For any beloved who excels in thought and affection,
Most of this people have no covenant with him.
I see the blame of fate neither harming it,
Is there anyone to defend me against its calamities?
What is this world to us if it is not obedient,
And there is no way to navigate it without etiquette?
It harbors the exalted, while the weak fall prey,
And in it the valiant serves only himself.
Every near one, though close in kindness,
Every friend carries within him malice.
For God has a heart that does not dull its thirst,
And that is a connection.
It costs me to seek honor through dreams,
And where is greatness if diligence does not assist me?
I yearn and what I adore is a lance and a blade,
Wearing a high collar and meeting expectations.
Oh, to have a heart that is burdened with its own possessions,
And to have tears like sharpness on my cheeks.
I desire from the days all that is magnificent,
And between my ribs lies a ferocious lion.
And not a young man who hesitates to bear arms,
Nor adorned with the thread that binds diligence.
If the blade does not move by itself,
Then the striking hand carries the burden of the sword.
And around me from this crowd lies a circle,
To which their affection is hidden, yet their grudges are apparent.
Time may serve the lad, and he was grieved,
And the days serve him, while he is their servant.
And no wealth but what you gained by enduring,
No praise and no wealth for one who lacks glory.
And life is nothing but companionship with youths,
Skewering does not matter to them, neither in fortune nor misfortune.
When they rejoice one day towards glory, they strive,
And when they mourn one day, they work hard.
And how many times in days of glory, I felt safe,
Where the sword and the sheath were companions.
If the enemies are after me in my homeland,
I survived, while the warmth of cover rose upon my trail.
And if my lance had wished to block every avenue,
Then my two eyes would see the chasms and depths.
Our sword is on the weight of a night’s burden,
And it leaned against its bosom towards the abyss.
We rushed to her in her sleep, as if,
Shadows in the gloom were the same as the dawn.
Alas if for my desire I may reach the land,
And meet enemies on furious steeds.
A stallion covered in dust, roaming,
To thrust into tribes, or steer away.
Swift in pursuit on the trail in the wild,
If the blackened paths and diversions merged.
As if the stars of night, beneath their torches,
Fell upon the darkness while the night wore black.
Stacked upon it was every strike, giving life to the gaming,
As if the blood of the enemies tasted like honey.
He pierced until there was no strength left in his sword,
And he thrust until his weapon lost its vigor.
Forever wandering, receiving nothing but strength,
And uttering nothing but what grants honor.
And fearing nothing but his spear’s fault,
And requesting nothing but what lions desire.
If an Arab is not like his sword,
He denies his enemies, shocking them with what he does.
Nothing shrinks beyond the bounds of time and size,
But it diminishes beyond the tissue of flesh.
If a man’s wealth declines, so do his friends,
And that fondness and affection depart from him.
And he begins to turn his eyes from every beautiful sight,
Encumbered by distance and the wandering of time.
What is there for me so that days would delight in their oppression,
And you know that I am neither a coward nor knave?
People overlook my face due to my awe,
Just as one avoids the sun’s glare when their vision is weak.
They surpassed me on barren slopes,
Neither grazing nearby nor halting.
Their legs rescue their hands in the wilderness, leading,
To where dignity and diligence flourish.
Thus a horse rider came to you, looking brown,
And he glanced until that bar became hidden from his sight.
And like you, no abode frightens when descents occur,
Nor does anyone leave when the envoys arrive.
So take what you deserve of greatness in your character,
Your share of this honor and noble lineage.
Are you not the father higher in virtue and rank,
And walk amidst flames, sparking a fire?
And no title shall withhold its whiteness and the markings,
Brother to a title that bears the lightning and thunder.
How many bullets have drenched the heart of your foe,
Clinging upon whom the spear bears flowers?
And upon the stench of dread a furious blow,
That almost caused the Yemeni sword to relent.
Men wish I had been a virtuous orator,
For were it not for my quarrel, they would not yearn for that.
I praised them and my words were met with scorn,
Oh how many necks do not deserve an adornment!
I savored renouncement in life for a while,
And a justification for those who cannot fulfill their desires.
The passage of time has weighed down my heart and kin,
When death approaches us, we find loss.
And I would settle for that which sustains me during these days,
And may it not be my fate to perish along with my peers.
Poem: Farewell My Beloved
Farewell My Beloved is a poignant piece by the contemporary Egyptian poet, Muhammad Abu Al-Ela, born in 1977 in Al-Daqahlia, Egypt. He completed his higher education and earned a Master’s degree in Folk Literature from the Higher Institute of Popular Arts. Abu Al-Ela is a member of the Egyptian Writers’ Union and writes both in classical and colloquial Arabic. His poetry collections include “Then Let Us Kill Love,” “Forgive Me, O Moon,” and “Farewell My Beloved.”
You will depart alone..
You have become a stranger..
You cut through the darkness, traversing the road
To where the light of day awaits you,
Dispelling the shadow of a lingering night..
In a land where you have lost your companion,
Neither the night agrees to a substitute for your departure,
Nor does the morning possess the ability to awaken.
And you remain alone,
Gathering the fragments of an elapsed lifetime,
Turning through the pages of memories,
And recalling that you traded love,
And lost my heart like a market of slaves.
It calls and cries out, “Return.. don’t leave me,”
Like a small child in a deep well.
It shouts for help..
As the shroud of darkness chases my neck,
Constricts around my throat swiftly,
Farewell, my beloved.
Farewell, dear one, for they have separated us,
And they have led us astray,
They dance upon our remnants,
And they have taught us never to disclose
Anything beautiful,
Except for our tears.
And they compelled us, when we dared to dream,
Not to part from our shadows,
Nor to fight our sorrows,
And they deceived us with a faint dawn,
And had we not loved,
Our light would have extinguished,
And we, if we could find a means of escape,
Would ride a carpet,
That will take us away.
Yet the nights are a long road,
That misleads hearts.. spreading pallor,
And reaping a void upon our lives,
And they taught us not to kneel
To those who sow thorns in our paths,
To those who plant sorrow within our hearts,
To those who debase our vitality,
And scatter our dreams like dust.
Farewell, my beloved.
For we have strayed.. and they have guided our steps,
To something that misled us,
And here we are, harvesting the fruits of our love,
Farewell, my beloved.
Thoughts on the Beloved
First Thought:
A lover gazed at his beloved, trembling and fainting. A wise man was asked what had afflicted him, and he replied: “He looked at one he loves, and his heart opened, leading to a reaction in his body.” When questioned why they did not feel the same towards their children or families, he explained: “That is rational love; this is the love of the soul.”
Second Thought:
You are my present and my future, while my past exists solely in dreams, yet now I live it as reality, even if I cannot believe it. My love and passion for you overwhelm me, and I dissolve and merge into these emotions, as if the mountains of snow within me collapse under the intensity of the love I hold.
Messages of the Beloved
First Message:
My beloved, your image is engraved within my eyelids,
And it shines as the light of my eyes.
Your eyes call to mine,
Your hands embrace my hands,
Your whispers enchant my ears.
Second Message:
You will always be, my beloved, above time,
And your eyes are the most precious place;
You remain the dearest of beings.
Third Message:
The greatest pride for the heavens is that you are its moon,
The greatest pride for love is that you understand it,
And the greatest pride for me is that you are my beloved.
Fourth Message:
When my soul ceases to yearn for your spirit, my beloved,
My pen will halt its affection for words and kissing the paper.
In one hand, I have five fingers,
And I see them equally humbled when they touch you.