Homeland
The concept of “homeland” can be defined as the first place a person sees upon birth, the initial location where they inhale the air, play, and behold the vastness of plains, mountains, spring, and trees. Its landscapes are ingrained in the hearts of its inhabitants, evoking feelings of love, nostalgia, and longing. It is akin to a mother who nurtures her children and cannot be separated from them.
Throughout history, poets—both ancient and modern—have competed to express their affection and yearning for their homelands. Many have composed verses that celebrate their love for their native land. In this article, we present a selection of poetic lines that eloquently express this deep connection to homeland.
A Homeland I Swore Not to Sell
A homeland I vowed never to sell,
Nor allow another to possess it through the ages.
I have cherished it since the bloom of my youth,
Like the blessing of a people who have blossomed in its shade.
And the loves of men draw them to their homelands,
Where youthful desires were joyously fulfilled.
When they remember their homelands, it reminds them
Of the promises of youth, evoking nostalgia and longing.
The Arab Homeland
O my homeland, you hold all my affections,
I offer you my heart and spirit.
In the West, where my heart hangs in expectation,
And where my soul sings for Amman.
My tears of love for Iraq have manifested,
And my yearning for the Gulf provides solace.
Not a day passes without remembering my beloved,
Egypt of Arab heritage, or forgetting Yemen.
Nor do I forget the love of my Libyan kin,
Or overlook Sudan’s compassionate legacy.
My love does not dry for the affection of
Lebanon, for love is deeply rooted there.
And the beloved Algeria, what a cherished land it is,
Both my world and my home.
I confess that I have lost my senses in love,
For in loving her, I find my purpose and reflection.
The Comoros Islands inspire a verse in my heart,
Its melodies embody my deepest emotions.
Who will wipe my tears from my cheeks,
When I cry for the love of my homelands?
Only for you, O my beloved, Mauritania.
In you, affection dwells, from Chinguetti to the friends.
Somalia, Djibouti, and Asmara echo in my being,
And when I remember you, my essence trembles.
My tears reveal what I have concealed in love,
And from my depths, volcanic passion erupts.
In Ta’if, love has embraced my heart,
And the longing for the chosen one makes me weep.
Is there any love greater than that
Which surrounds the Messenger of God?
I love my mother, and my verse is dedicated to her,
Forming a line of words and rhythm.
Mother: do not weep, do not suffer,
Your tears have made my heart ache.
Rafah, Jaffa, Hebron, Gaza,
And Jerusalem weeps from the agony of deprivation.
O Gaza, beloved of a lover lost in emotion,
Who has submerged in the sea of yearning.
Do you expect me to forget love
After such affection? Or will my essence perish?
The life I have lived is fraught with pain,
Filled with poverty, sighs, and silence.
I’ve closed my eyes to the struggles of an enemy,
Who assaults my mother; oh, how I lament!
And the bombs of foes ignite flames,
Increasing my dishonor and my torment.
I see death in a child’s cry,
And tears appear to fill my shroud.
I witness martyrdom in the face of my enemy,
Awakening from my dreams to my despair.
The land of Al-Buraq cries from their fire,
And my Arabness, my mosques, and my calls.
The Al-Aqsa Mosque bids farewell its departing lover,
While the Gaza Strip sinks deep in oblivion.
My tears carry me to the land of my beloved,
Armed with love and the Quran.
I long for the day I can die in her embrace,
Illuminating my universe by my demise.
O God, love has lacerated this lover,
O God, my tears have blinded me.
I reveal my tears to the world, yet I remain
Proud of my secrets and declarations.
For tears are the beginning for the rebels,
And they culminate in the martyr’s testament.
I loved her with a heart bleeding with love,
Distance was my tormentor and my oppressor.
A painful separation from the guardians of my beloved,
And longing for the skies has exhausted me.
I love her, and my tears bear witness,
As my poetry spills out in melodies.
To soar in love for the Levant as I travel,
And to behold the majestic mountains in my rapture.
I am incapable of living in exile,
O mother, who will care for me without you?
If I die in longing, let me rest
In the Levant, that is where my wishes lie.
I Am the Lover of My Homelands
I am a lover,
Simple as my village,
Its houses reside within me,
Captivating me with their simplicity.
They entice me with their terraces,
And I admire their fields.
They love me, and I love them back,
My writings reflect the essence of my village.
I am the lover,
My affection reaches for Sudan,
And descends upon Lebanon,
It soars at the gates of Jerusalem,
And resides in the depths of Egypt.
The rhythm of my heartbeat marches onward in Syria,
Offering roses to the Golan Heights.
In Jordan,
My eyes gaze eagerly towards Amman.
I am the lover,
Embracing the fragrant Mecca,
And I pray that God grants me a visit there.
I circle the sacred Kaaba,
And weep beside the greatest tomb,
The fragrance of the grave envelops us,
Purifying us through Islam’s essence.
It illuminates the heart with faith.
I am the lover,
Of every martyr,
And I dedicate my poetry to the rebels.
Algeria, a free land,
Embraces Egypt with longing,
And offers her the fragrance of blossoms.
The heart of every martyr beats passionately,
While the Nile in Egypt
Whispers poetry from Oran.
I am the lover,
Of the enchantment fluttering in Tunisia,
The iris blooms,
Where Al-Shabi sings her shining glory.
And to the boy who ignited flames over suffering,
Thus arose the revolution of the rebels,
As destiny heeded her call.
I am the lover,
Of Mauritania and Somalia,
Their ships shall carry me to the shores of peace,
Taking me to Bahrain,
To Muscat and Jeddah.
Dubai, oh Dubai, I adore you,
As good fortune sings a melody to your eyes,
Adorning you with the rains of generosity.
Love sprouts among strangers (and companions).
I am the lover,
As the Euphrates accompanies me to the Tigris,
And the beautiful Basra enchants me
With the poems of Al-Sayyab.
And the strides of Saddam astonish me,
Regarding his descent into the gallows.
O how I wonder about Saddam,
And how I mourn for Baghdad!
I pray to God to protect her from her rivals.
I am the lover,
Of the land of Al-Kut,
And Hadhar Maut,
For Libya, oil, and their liberators,
Embrace her heart in Doha.
In Tobruk,
Love rests within her veins,
And carries us to Qatar
To sing melodies of solitude.
I am the lover,
Of the Moroccan region,
Which speaks to me of Morocco,
And of our white abode.
When I say Rabat, it resides in my heart,
And Fez sleeps within my eyes,
Singing the love for our homelands.
I am the lover,
Simple as my village,
My writings are like my village,
And my love for my homeland is dear,
And my love for my homeland is my sustenance.
I am the lover of my homelands.