Poem: Increase My Confusion with Your Intense Love
Written by the poet Ibn al-Farid:
Increase my confusion with your intense love
And have mercy on a heart scorched by your desire.
And if I ask you to see you in your true form,
Allow it, and do not make my answer “You will not see.”
O heart! You promised me steadfastness in love,
So be careful not to grow weary or frustrated.
Indeed, passion is life; die for it,
For you deserve to perish and be excused.
Tell those who preceded me and those who will follow,
And those who witness my sorrow:
Take from me and follow my lead; let my words be heard,
And speak of my longing among the crowd.
For I have spent time alone with the beloved,
And between us lies a secret softer than a gentle breeze at night.
Poem: Oh Hind, the Commentators Blamed Me for Love
Written by the poet Ahmad Shawqi:
Oh Hind, the blame for love has fallen upon me,
A lover who, when friends are counted, is a beloved.
He is neither a gossip on the path of desire,
Nor is he suspicious in the law of passion.
I described to him who you are, and then we shared,
A conversation that is striking to lovers.
And I told him to be patient, for every friend who loves
Will repent at the hands of the one he desires.
Poem: In Love, There Are Marvels and Torments
Written by the poet Abu Nuwas:
In love, there are marvels and torments,
And it is, O people, filled with wonders.
Whoever has not tasted love, for I am a person
Who has experiences of love to share.
The mark of a lover upon his face
Indicates he is a captive of love, as it is written.
And for love within me, there are trappings set
At the ranks of the enamored, clearly defined.
Until, if a lover passes through it,
Time for the human is predictable.
He said to you, and his eyes are longing,
Yet patience overpowers him in defeat.
His only flaw is his goodness;
And by my father, his flaw is his kindness.
He insults my honor while protecting his,
Likewise, the beloved is in his own web of affairs.
Poem: I Overcome You, Persistent Heart of Longing
Written by the poet Al-Marqash al-Akbar:
I overwhelm you, O heart, laden with longing
And yearning for Asma—will you prevail?
Your heart meanders and does not stray from Asma’s name;
This is passion, with its trials and consequences.
Would a man falter in his love for Asma, who is distant,
With sly glances exchanged, and he averts his gaze?
Asma is the anguish of the soul if you know her,
And the beginning of the discourse of the heart remains absent.
When she is recalled, I seem as if
I am moved by external forces and shaken.
Poem: The Moon Borrowed the Morning Its Smiles
Written by the poet Ibn Rawaha al-Himawi:
The moon has borrowed the morning its radiant smile,
And has lent the boughs a tender elegance.
Its colors flourished as it revealed my plight,
From it, the greenness of the field surrounds the clear spring.
When will a beloved concede a kiss to its admirers,
Like pearls resting under the splendor of emeralds?
Poem: Her Beauty Is Renewed Every Hour
Written by the poet Ibn Sana al-Malik:
Her beauty renews with each passing hour;
Thus, my passion knows no bounds.
Indeed, my love, much like her beauty, is unrelenting,
And my longing, like her rejection, is never-ending.
Except that at times, the imagination comes forth, so
Be cautious, as my shyness might linger endlessly.
That illusion endures in the eye, yet
Its fragrance entwines in the hand.
A beautiful act of nature exerts a hold on us,
And for each duration, there is what one becomes accustomed to.
There is no doubt; her expression is mesmerizing—
It is clear that she possesses allure beyond comparing.
She carries the adornments of two factions over her neck—
A necklace, and in her eyes, lush beauty.
Every day she unveils enchantments,
As her captivating gaze compels us all.
We have read foreign delights from her mouth;
Her beauty gleams beneath her fair lips.
It is like kohl blending with the liner in her eye,
And we drink of that intoxicating allure.
She brings forth the living and the dead;
From her softness arises what binds and confines.
Poem: My Soul Clings to Hers Before Our Creation
Written by the poet Qays ibn Dhari:
My soul clings to her soul even before our creation,
And after we were both nursed and cradled.
It has grown as we have grown and has flourished,
There is no separation, even if we die by fate.
Yet, it endures through every occurrence,
And visits us in the darkness of the grave and the tomb.
The bubbling surface of the water seems to scrape her skin
If she washes in water, due to its sensitivity.
I yearn for the scent of her garments
Like Idris longed for the paradise of eternity.
Had she clothed herself in attire of pure roses,
She would have bruised her skin with the petals’ softness.
The silk’s weight burdens her delicateness,
And she complains to her neighbors of the heavy necklace.
Oh, the mercy on her cheeks, when I catch sight of her!
Beware that my gaze does not leave a mark on her cheek.
Poem: Su’ad Disappeared, With Marks in Her Eyes
Written by the poet Al-Akhtal:
Su’ad has vanished, and in my eyes is a mark
From my love for her, and my body is infatuated.
Indeed, the heart, with its affection for her, struggles with pain,
If I remember her, and my body feels it too.
If I try to forget her or say she is lost,
The musings of my heart return and bind me once more.
She is elevated beyond the eyes of people in private quarters,
No old crone dares to covet her or even approach.
She mingles with the heart after slumber,
When he awakens and the rush of joy is felt.
She quenches thirst with sweet kisses,
Upon the grace of Adam, adorned by her embrace.
Jewels sharpen the whiteness of her neck,
As if they are statues depicted in the monastery.
Or like the stream flows, lush and bounteous,
In its glittering dance under the sun’s rays.
She is bright, with limbs polished in elegance,
As if she has become a vision, her eyes adorned.
The day she dazzles is one when the sky shines bright,
So convey greetings from me to her, O Nightingale,
For there is beauty in her every sigh.
Poem: I Am Not the Beauty for the First Enthralled
Written by the poet Elia Abu Madi:
I am not the beauty that the first lover desired;
She is the world’s temptation, just as she is.
Tell me her story if you know it,
And when you speak of her, please share in reverence.
Did you glimpse her in a form, as you once witnessed,
In a state, did you find her in that moment?
For I am one whose soul is in love, and indeed she
Is beautiful beyond the essence of what is beautiful.
And it adds to my longing for her that she
Has a voice that does not reveal nor conceal.
I searched the morning for her and the dusk,
And reached out even to the stars with my finger.
If both stare at each other, bewildered,
At a lover who is lost in confusion and doubts.
And the stars, whether they know her or not,
Tremble in the vastness of the heavens.
Her rays danced on the surface of the dusk,
And on hope within me, devoid of clarity.
And the sea, how often I asked it, only to be responded to
By the waves echoing my fragmented voice.
I returned trembling with thoughts and aspirations,
Like a bird fluttering in a tempest’s grasp.
And as if the shadows of eras have assembled,
On the shore, laughing at every retreat.
Poem: The Maidens Danced in the Garb of Reason
Written by the poet Abu al-Hassan al-Jurjani:
The maidens of reason approached us,
Displaying knowledge while hiding their enchantments;
They play with minds, captivating with their unveiling,
More delightful than the glad tidings that follow after absence,
And better than a blessing met with gratitude.
I’ve never seen a gathering more splendid than this,
Nor a tapestry so exquisitely arranged compared to prose.
You see each verse standing alone,
Boasting its own meanings over refined words.
Adorned with the description of the body, then veiling itself,
It sways with disinterest in an area where they flow.
The clouds of thought chimed within, displaying
Light pearls in their flowered gardens.
It came with meaning intertwined with its words,
As if the daughter of clouds drank from wine.
More significant in connection than his letters.
Needing exquisite deeds to be published,
I have woven it like a necklace, as a good deed.
Your pledge resembles a strand of generosity and pride;
As though passing by your lips poured
Joy into words, like a goblet overflowing with delight.
We are enchanted by the softness of its essence,
And its refinement brings us forth from intoxication.
Poem: We Were Invited to the Night of Rajab
Written by the poet Abu Wajzah al-Saadi:
We were invited to a night of Rajab,
As its lightning shone, painting the darkest skies.
The winds twist about the branches of Beisha,
Resonating in the far reaches.
We moved, light-hearted and leisurely,
To reach the easy slopes along the river.
They called with the hazy shades of night, bringing forth
Gatherings that were simply beguiling.
Savoring wildflowers in the dew,
As we neared the fragrant branches wore.
And when they began to sway, it felt like
A light echo from every weave, sweet and tender.
Poem: O Thuriya, If You Arrive Early to the Garden
Written by the poet Wadi’ Aql:
O Thuriya, if you arrive at the garden one day
And do not encounter birds playing there,
Finding the trees inhibiting their whispers,
With flowers scattered, dry and wilted,
And if you see dew evaporating swiftly,
While the morning light appears as a mere heat,
Know that within the sorrows of the trees,
The blossoms and you, Thuriya, are sigmas.
Yesterday, one presented a gift to your home,
Bringing riches to your family in a glimmering manner.
I saw him conversing privately with your father
While advancing playfully and cheerfully.
If calamity strikes, distance separates us,
Let memories bloom brightly—rich as a stream.
Let us recall during our blissful moments
This concept, and in our grandeur, this dreamer.
Poem: Good News; I Have Found My Joyful Destination
Written by the poet Ali al-Ghurab al-Safaqsi:
Good news! I have found my joyful destination,
With my dear one, and the adversaries are left sighing.
So my heart is crowding with happiness,
Much like many people gathering by a wellspring.
And the challenges have had their identities revealed,
Transforming from gloom to clarity.
The glad news to my heart feels like delightful tidings
Of a long-awaited meeting after an agonizing separation.
After our souls were on the verge of overflowing,
Like floods from our tear-filled eyes.
With great circumstance mentioned, serving my memory
As a soothing balm for that tender anguish.
O you who has suffered pains of fate,
Greetings to your favor, which is ever illuminating.
Do not despair; for you are not the only noble
That the trials have hurled against every distress.
Indeed, virtue ignites animosity towards him,
And favoritism clashes with the harshest of opponents.
May you serve as an example to the virtuous who came before,
And let the world know the wisdom in their actions.
For if imprisoned, every treasure found
Is safe and subtly embraced in mystery.