Do Not Wear the Attire of the World
The poet Abu Al-Ala Al-Maari expresses in his verse:
Do not don the attire of the world, for it
Is a sickness that corrupts the body with its garments.
I fear its harm and am wary of
Its melancholy, not drinking from its cups.
Therefore, let the soul strive for what is beautiful, as it
Is better and more commendable, not for its reward.
In his home is the judge who is truthful,
So enter the homes of people through their doors.
The discord among leaders bears witness, swearing that
Society has not found its way to the truth.
And when the thieves of the earth challenge a ruler,
He poses a question to them in return.
A wasteland answered for wealth, and it struck him,
While the unseen turned away from its wanderers.
God sheltered creation within it, yet it did not shelter
The oath-takers nor those who turn back.
The Ambition of Those with Conduct
The poet Abu Al-Atahiyah writes:
Ambition does not enslave one who has conduct.
For a person in ambition has an astonishing resolve.
To God, what thoughts linger in the ambitious mind
Among all that cannot be attained?
The hunger of the ambitious only feeds him
In pursuit, while obstacles lie before him.
Life has never been pleasant for the greedy, nor
Is his anguish ever far from him.
Oppression, greed, and desire are trials
From which neither Persians nor Arabs have escaped.
A person is not burdened in his beliefs,
If they hold true without suffering or toil.
He who is not content with a sufficiency,
Will find that the entire earth’s gold won’t suffice.
He in whom doubt can intrude upon resolve,
His opinions will forever waver.
I Would Show You My Contentment If the Soul Were Hidden
Abu Al-Tayyib Al-Mutanabbi states:
I would show you my contentment if the soul concealed a secret,
And I am neither content with myself nor with you.
Is it loyalty and betrayal, treachery and base behavior,
Or cowardice, that you reveal to me instead of shame?
You think my smiles reflect joy and bliss,
But I am merely laughing at my hopes.
Your legs in your shoes amuse me, because I
Have seen you with shoes while you remain barefoot.
And you know not whether your color is black
From ignorance or if it has turned pure and white.
Your shoes remind me of your ankle, which
Are revealed in a garment of oil while you stand exposed.
If not for the idle chatter of people, I would come to you praising
With what I secretly held, you I would have branded.
And now you are pleased with what I sing,
Even if in my songs I ridiculed you fiercely.
If you bring no good, then certainly I
Have gained by casting my glance at your deceits.
And like you, those from distant lands are brought
To amuse the mothers of grieving lamenters.
Hail to the Remnants of the Past
Imru’ al-Qays remarks:
Hail to you, oh dilapidated remnants!
Can anyone find peace who was in bygone eras?
Will there be any rest except for those blessed with a long life,
Who have few worries and sleep without dread?
Does anyone come who recently departed
For thirty months in three different circumstances?
The dwellings of Salma are flourishing, amidst desolation,
All have persisted, every heavy rain.
And you think Salma does not still see a trace
From the wilderness or white meadows with tender flora?
And you believe Salma hasn’t returned as before
To the valley of hyacinths or the ridge of the valleys?
The nights of Salma when she would reveal with pride,
Her neck like that of a gazelle, unblemished.
Has Baasasa today claimed that I have grown old,
And that mirth does not suit someone like me?
Who Remembers the Place that Stirred the Heart?
Jarir composes:
From a place that ignited the heart of the lovelorn,
A thought came to my mind wanting to speak with Salman.
Is it at هند’s cottage, where she raised her look?
And what familiarity brings to mind but mere wonder?
Hind has permitted a lover to part from her,
For all the time he has remained attached to her beauty.
And it bespeaks the nature of the devoted who have roamed,
Who raised the veils and embroidered cloth beyond measure.
As if the image of the house was like dove feathers,
Time has erased everything, and she has forgotten how to speak.
The distance severed all ties of connection,
While longing sought to overtake her heart with despair.
As if the camels of the tribe flourished green,
Arriving from the marsh on a date palm’s fringes.
The Greatness of the Noble
The poet Ahmed Shawqi expresses:
The noblest of people is one who mourns the great,
And laments them even if they were grand figures.
And more generous than clouds when it rains,
A young man who revives through his praise the dignified.
There is no excuse for the one falling short
In compensating anyone with mere talk.
Is there no one to convey for me today,
A statement of satisfaction in this lofty status?
May God protect you, great king,
Who cherished and honored kings splendidly in the earth.
I see oblivion has quenched his thirst when,
And you stood by his grave; you were like clouds.
While you cherish his memory for the people until
You left a mark in history, year after year.
Do you know which king you commemorate?
And which realm you bring peace to?
You called upon the greatest of the earth’s people for war,
And the noblest of them if they resided in peace.
A News that Delights My Ear
Elia Abu Madi states:
O news that delighted my ear,
Until I wished I was the messenger.
It revived in me hopes as if
It brought back the barren land with pouring rain.
From it, I learned that this land,
Is filled with the joy of our game.
A multitude, like a necklace of jewels,
Where virtue and the virtuous are held dear.
Filled with every brave, capable mind,
Like swords sharpened by the smith.
The moon emerges from its buttons,
And rain flows from its hands onto the fields.
And every joyful countenance is worthy,
In his two elegant robes, a lord is inclined.
Like the east, may it bloom and thrive,
So that hopes and hope-filled hearts may be safe.
People Are Mere Shadows Until They See You
Abu Al-Tayyib Al-Mutanabbi states:
People are mere shadows unless they behold you;
Time is just a word, and you are its essence.
Generosity is an eye, and you are its seer;
Bravery is an arm, and you are its right hand.
I would sacrifice for the one who, in every critical moment,
Is bold, with knights averting confrontation.
In the heart of the battle of Al-Husayn, in the center of it,
He stands tall, and his legs touch the ground.
Our garments sing his praises,
With tongues that haven’t been graced by words.
When we pass by the deaf one,
He is made sufficient by his sight, not his hearing.
Glory be to Him who designated for the stars,
Distance, even if we long for them supplicating.
The Joy That Wrought My Mind
Antarah bin Shaddad mentions:
I was thrilled, and the Yemeni lightning stirred me,
And it reminded me of the camps and the songs.
And it ignited in the depths of my heart a fire,
Like my striking with the Indian blade.
By your life, the spears of Bani Baghid,
Will not betray their hands on the day of battle.
Nor will their swords falter in war,
When the brave are known from the coward’s façade.
But they strike the army with violent strikes,
And they subdue the eagles with no hesitation.
And face the horrors of death,
At dawn’s rush in the thick of fight.
O Ablah, if you ask a spear about me,
It would answer you, its tongue unbound.
That I struck on the grounds of Taym,
With every fierce fever showing the gallant spirit,
And plunged into its dust while the horses fell,
With my sword and spear brandishing side by side.