My Affection for Women of All Kinds
As stated by Al-Farazdaq:
I have a love for women, each unique,
They speak with glances, and the weary gaze.
They possess what protects against the forbidden,
Dispensing only what is permissible.
I found that love is healed solely by
A meeting that annihilates all barriers.
I say to a maiden with delicate hands,
And the luggage of her mount feels heavy.
If only you knew, I would tell you “gather close,
And do not complain to me of weariness.”
For you have reached your prime; do not be
Like a grinder that is filled to capacity.
For your departures only cause me toil,
And my expectations for you are unyielding.
And return the lash upon me when it strikes,
For your beauty is the realm that dazzles.
The wilderness has left no space for you,
Nor has the stone from a barren root.
It stirs the oppressive boulders, after
It ascends, deserted, carrying heavy burdens.
Indeed, before you lies the guide given by
The Merciful, for those who fear being lost.
And your quietude speaks to your richness; deliver to me
As the sea floods when it swells uncontrollably.
While awaiting you, I found not the divine until
I had you alleviating all my sufferings.
I have gazed on your magnificence as I prayed for respite,
Hoping for relief from maladies of the heart.
Oh Liver, How You Were Torn Like Shutters!
As expressed by Qais ibn Dharih:
Oh liver, how you were torn like shutters!
And oh the lament, what stirs within the heart?
I swear, my eyes are not mere flitting gazes,
But rather a prairie filled with grazing herds.
Who would sip from it, if they could grasp?
As the distant sails grew more beleaguered.
They did not shy away; they remained steadfast.
In the midst of drought and desperation,
Leaving me bereft on the day when their burdens diminished.
All calamities of time brought me nothing
Except the separation from beloved companions.
When you tightly bound me with warm cordiality,
What love could one hope during this strife?
If you’ve tasted bitter life’s sugar or died lamenting,
Like the one constantly sated from the spring season.
I spoke to my heart when desire consumed me,
Loaded with affection, the likes of which are rare:
Awaken, oh heart that is pulled by passion,
May you find no peace from the pain of longing.
I Swear, There Is No Woman Like You
As penned by Nizar Qabbani:
I swear, there is no woman
Who masters the art of love like you.
You have endured my foolishness
For ten long years just as you have.
You have trimmed my claws,
And organized my notes,
And introduced me to the innocence of childhood,
Except for you…
I swear, no woman
Reflects me as a painted portrait
In mind and behavior like you.
In intellect and madness, except you,
In swift tedium
And rapid attachment, except you…
I swear, no woman
Has ever taken from my attention
Even half of what you have
Colonizing me just as you did
And liberating me just as you did…
I swear, no woman
Has treated me like a child of two months
Except for you…
Serving me the nectar of birds,
The flowers, and the toys,
Except for you…
I swear, no woman
Has shown me generosity like the sea
Or elegance like poetry,
And has pampered and spoiled me excessively.
I swear, no woman
Has allowed my childhood
To stretch into fifty… but you.
I swear, no woman
Can claim to be all women… except for you,
For within her navel lies
The center of the universe.
I swear, no woman
Is followed by trees when she walks
Except for you…
And no doves drink from her icy body
Except for you…
And no sheep graze from her summer scent
Except for you.
I swear, no woman
Has captured, in two words, the essence of femininity
An incitatement of my masculinity,
Except for you…
I swear, no woman
Has altered the laws of the world except for you,
Changing
The map of what is permissible and forbidden,
Except for you…
I swear, no woman
Invades me in moments of passion like an earthquake,
Burning me, drowning me,
Igniting and extinguishing me,
Shattering me in half as a crescent moon.
I swear, no woman
Holds my soul longer than any occupation,
And brings happiness with the longest of occupations,
Planting me
With Damascene roses
And mint
And oranges.
Oh woman,
Leave my questions hidden in your hair,
And never answering a single inquiry,
Oh woman, who embodies all languages.
Yet she can only be felt in thought, not spoken…
Remembering Layla and the Past Years
As recited by Qais ibn al-Mulawwah:
I remember Layla and those bygone years,
And days when we did not fear distractions of any kind.
At Thamda, Layla’s fire and my companions shone,
Amid the verdant grove, guiding the caravan.
The wise among us proclaimed, “I have spied a star,
Glinting in the dark, a solitary beacon.”
I replied, “But nay, it is Layla’s flame that ignited,
In the heights, illuminating all around.”
Oh, how I wish the travelers had not crossed the grove,
And that the grove had carried them for nights.
I said, having no command over the lineage of Malik,
What passed through the canopy seemed like a gathering gone awry.
You have transformed into the memory of Malik,
Among the whispers of anxiety weighing upon my heart.
For it is that which you wished for from the mother of Malik,
That has aged within me and overwhelmed my heart.
Oh, that you had not recognized me, and oh, that you had
Left me alone, neither for me nor for you.
My companions, when they part from Layla,
Bring to me the coffin and the shrouds to absolve my fate.
And place at the edges of the spears my resting place,
And return my garments to cover my eyes.
And do not envy me; may God bless you,
From the land of breadth, expand for me.
I See You in Joy with Song and Melody
As stated by Yazid ibn Muawiya:
I see you in joyous moods, with song and melody,
Twirl about with the edges of the shroud of the dusk.
Has love possessed you, or have you been struck by a gaze?
For this is simply the nature of a lover.
For Your Eyes, What the Heart Has Endured
As penned by Al-Mutanabbi:
For your eyes, what the heart has faced and endured,
And for love, what remains of me and what still persists.
And I was not someone to allow love into his heart,
But whoever sees your eyelids inevitably loves.
Between pleasure and displeasure, nearness and distance,
There lies the realm of weeping that won’t cease.
And the sweetest love is one that doubts its bond,
Whereas in neglect, time strives for and evades.
Fury from neglect brought me intoxication from my youth,
I sought pardon from her with every drop of dew.
With a mouth veiled from her, my forehead was kissed,
By the graceful gazelles like your neck drawing near.
Yet I could not distinguish between one who is stooped and a bound one,
And not everyone who loves remains chaste when he is alone,
My modesty bids me to please the beloved, while horses embrace.