Poem: The Heart is Intermixed with Worries and Sorrow
- The poet Al-A’sha states:
The heart is intermingled with worries and sorrow,
And a soft longing, after once having found peace.
He is captivated by Hind, wandering,
Sometimes he reflects, and at times he yearns,
For a delightful plaything whose attire is cherished,
As gentle as the reem, the tender gazelle,
And if she remains still, her beauty is a treasure.
Then I erected a tribute and I wished for her praise,
As the two sashes around her end meet,
Indeed, Hind has created a seduction for my heart,
This is how temptations present themselves to people.
I do not see her in a void at any moment,
And in that, she retains a modesty unmatched.
Then I sent a message to her, that I am excusable,
So respond to my justification if you please,
And I hope for her, while fearing her fright,
Just as is done with the confined reins.
Perhaps one day you will be generous to us,
With gifts unburdened by past considerations.
You are Salma, the concern of my soul, remember me,
O Salma, for there is nothing valuable as your essence.
And the fragrant musk and the distant lilacs,
And the Persian paint, when tasted,
Causes the elder to sing and sway with delight,
And the sweet-sounding lutes play,
At the cymbals, whenever touched, they reciprocate song,
And if the sound fades,
The cymbals resound, calling forth a melodious tune.
And if the clamor drowns out the echoes of their voices,
The tune obeys our harmonious singer.
And as we savor their essence,
They commanded Amr, and they confided with him in pleasure,
With sweet sounds unencumbered by wealth,
For singing, merriment, and indulgence abounds.
You will see their jug overflowing,
With a richness that splashes from the waters of Shann.
Through the morning until they tilt roots,
Just as they lean with companions at leisure.
Then they went towards the sunset to
Pluck the fruits, a little burdened by sorrow.
Count this among a different refrain,
And remember in poetry the farmer of Yemen.
By Abu Al-Ash’ath Qays, indeed he,
Buys praise with a price that is steep.
One day I approached him, and he granted my seat,
And bestowed upon me a bounty in traditions.
And eighty she-camels, all of them,
With gentle demeanor like the delicate shrub.
And camels that are gentle, adorned with beauty,
In the fertile plains and guarded enclaves.
And a boy standing with prowess,
And camels that are gentle, adorned with beauty.
Poem: Lighten My Burdens, O Worries
- Poet Fawzi Ma’louf expresses:
Lighten my burdens, O worries,
For I’ve had enough of what tears at my skin.
Oh my evening, how many sorrows it holds,
And my day, what it may hold for tomorrow.
How bitter is remembrance and yet how sweet,
It is the daughter of clarity and hardship.
And like wine, the older it gets,
The more it overflows with new delights.
Oh, a day at the lighthouse that has not
Been lessened by the distance of time.
When I and my enchantress stand together,
At dusk by the sea, in a gentle embrace,
Where the departing sun gazes at us,
With a look filled with jealousy.
It sheds light from her flowing hair,
Like gold above the silver foam.
Then it plunges into the waves, leaving
A trace of yellow from despair.
A yellow that did not last long,
But vanished in the azure of the skin.
A flame floating on the water,
Could it be connected to the light?
And here the waves rise in turmoil,
O waves, like a determined army.
It admonished the rocks, and pulled them with force,
In its rhythm, lively and eager.
And it leapt as if it had within it,
An awaiting lion leaping upon a lion.
And when the roar is woven together,
What on the water surged from the clangor.
Oh, the wing of evening embraces us,
So hush, O waters, and do not rush.
He is the Lord of tranquility, so respect
His silence if it remains forever.
Did you not feel a breath of his,
As I exhaled a sigh that held back.
Or did you not see our hearts,
Decked out in exquisite ice?
We concealed what we held of passion,
Over the embers of our fiery eyes.
So we thought it was in our sides,
And we remained silent, unyielding or demanding.
With lips pressed against each other,
And a tongue bound and captured.
If I asked or he asked for anything,
I found nothing, nor did he.
The heart spoke of desire, yet,
It was laid bare on the lips.
Oh, what a lost opportunity,
That appeared just once and never again.
I could have been close to happiness had
You wished to make her mine.
I was like a bird near a thirsty stream,
Unresponsive and longing not to depart.
Poem: Remove the Worries of the Heart and Be Patient
- Poet Abu Al-Ala Al-Ma’arri says:
Remove the worries of the heart and be patient,
For truly, only your orchestra can dissolve them.
And there is no good among whom you see,
So reckon with it, and seek to distance yourself.
And weaving and spinning for the maidens,
Are considerations among the duplicitous.
And the sun is a weaver, but
The letter of the letter has been softened in its weaving.
Poem: The World Blames Me
- Poet Nizar Qabbani conveys:
The world blames me if I love him,
As if I created love and invented it.
As if I have sketched it on the cheeks of roses,
As though I am the one who taught
The birds up in the sky to sing,
And in the fields of wheat, I sowed it.
As if I were the one who,
Like the beautiful moon in the sky,
Hung him up there.
The world blames me if I name those I adore,
Or mention them at all.
As if I am love itself,
And its mother and sister.
This love that came to me,
From where I least expected it,
Is different from everything I’ve ever known,
Different from all I have read,
And everything I have heard.
If only I had known it is a kind of addiction,
I would not have immersed myself in it.
If only I had known it is a door exposed to many winds,
I would have never opened it.
If only I had known it is a matchstick,
I would have never ignited it.
This love is the fiercest affection I have ever lived,
Oh, I wish when it came to me, extending
Its hands towards me, I had turned it away.
And today, before it could kill me,
I should have cut it off.
This love, which I see at night,
On my curtains,
I see it in my dress,
In my perfume, and in my bracelets.
I see it etched on my hand,
I see it engraved in my emotions.
If they had informed me that it is
A child full of mischief and noise, I would not have let it in.
And that it would shatter glass in my heart, I would never have allowed it.
If they had informed me that it would ignite fires in moments,
And would turn everything upside down in moments,
And paint the walls red and blue in moments,
I would have expelled it.
O beloved one, who has pleased God by loving me,
This love is the most beautiful love I have ever lived,
The most wonderful love I have ever experienced.
Oh, I wish when it came to me as a visitor,
I adorned it with flowers.
And I wish when it came to me crying,
I had opened my doors to it and embraced it.
Poem: Oh, Would That I Could Live in This World
- Poet Abu Al-Qasim Al-Shabi muses:
Oh, would that I could live in this world,
Happy in my solitude and independence.
I spend my life in the mountains and forests,
Amid the swaying pine trees.
I have no burdens of existence to distract,
My soul from hearkening to its heart.
I watch death and life, and listen
To the whispers of eternity.
And I sing with the nightingales in the forest,
And I listen to the gurgling of the stream.
And I converse with the stars, the dawn, and the birds,
And the river, and the guiding light.
A life for beauty and art, I crave it,
Distant from my nation and homeland.
I do not burden myself with the sorrows of my people,
For they live on like the dead.
And my share of grief is adequate,
From an unusual and traditional path.
And far from the city and its people,
Far from the clamor of those gatherings.
For it is made from the essence of absurdity and deceit,
And from that banal chatter.
Where is it from the bubbling of the stream,
And the murmurs, and the melody of the bard?
And the rustle of the branches, adorned by the dew,
And the whisper of the breeze to the young buds?
This is a life that my soul sanctifies,
And I call for its glory and sing its praise.