Poem: A Cup of Love
A poem by the poet Mahmoud bin Saud Al-Hulaibi:
I will pour my heart into a cup of love
For the one who savors the yearning of my soul
With poetry, cardamom, and saffron!
I will pour it for the one who captivates me
On the shores of her enchanting gaze
Her eyelashes pull me with tenderness
As her eyelids cradle me in warmth!
I will pour it for the one who embraces me
As a delicate dream that lingers in the eyes of a clever boy
Who has learned, since childhood, to kiss the warm ink
On paper
As white as the heart,
Ignited by a spark within the soul!
I will pour it for the one who relishes my tears as bitter salt
Whenever my storms rise and churn
And my chest overflows with sadness
Time constricts,
And the place grows agitated!
For her, my pain cries out
As my wounds carve pathways for sorrow
Within me,
Until she rushes towards me
Embracing my sorrow,
Her gentle touch soothes my worries
As she sings me the whisper of a dreaming nightingale.
For her, my thoughts awaken
To a melody from her sweet essence
I drift within her
And she flows through me
On the galloping steed of conviction
And on a path that sings of security.
For the one I have not yet found
Except in the depths of a dominating dream,
She appeared to my eyes as a mermaid
Swimming, drifting
Waking and sleeping
Leaving me
Between the shores of hope
And the desert of my years,
Wrestling with love’s lamentations,
Amidst the rebellious cries of the rababah,
Confessing to her
And mourning for her
In the weeping of the violin!
Poem: Expressing Love While Lovers Conceal It
From the poems of Rifa’a Al-Tahtawi, some of its verses include:
Lovers express love while the secretive remain unaware,
Those who debate its essence are bound to cherish it.
Love doesn’t manifest this way, dear one,
Leave love for those whose tears flow as blood.
They are lost in memories and confused by sorrows,
Let his heart dwell in the turmoil of its transitions,
While he ignites in the blaze of its passion,
Create beautiful acts in avoiding it,
And comfort him with relationships that cling to him.
Had you peered into his state, you would have grieved.
His heart races in the realm of its yearning,
And beneath the stars, his gaze finds refuge.
Oh, knowledgable critic, you pursued him with your blame,
Punished him without seeing through his eyes.
You know not what love entails,
Do you not see his soul a pasture for longing?
And consumed by love, she drives him forth,
Striving for freedom, and he never returns.
Show mercy or scold, whilst the woods of yearning echoed,
If you tasted the cup of pure love, you wouldn’t have slumbered.
Your eyes in the dark of night’s shroud,
Awake to solace and free from grievance.
In the delights of love’s intricate affairs,
Staying steadfast amidst love’s monumental trials.
So, how can you debate its true nature,
When you have not sought its essence?
By the one who guarded his heart from stereotypes,
True love exists only for those who know it well,
Having immersed themselves in love until its magnitude waned.
Poem: I Love You, I’ll Say More Later
One of the poems by Nizar Qabbani:
Your voice is a Persian carpet,
Your eyes are Dimashqi sparrows,
Flying between walls,
And my heart travels like a dove over your hands,
Taking a siesta under the shade of the bracelet.
I love you,
Yet I fear getting entangled with you,
Afraid of losing myself in you,
Learning from experiences to avoid the love of women,
And the waves of the sea.
I do not question your love; it is my daylight
And I do not contest the sun’s arrival.
It decides when to come and go,
And determines the timing and style of our conversations.
Let me pour you some tea,
You are the embodiment of beauty this morning,
Your voice is a beautiful pattern on a Moroccan fabric,
Your necklace dances like a child beneath mirrors,
And sips water from a flower vase.
Let me pour you some tea, have I mentioned I love you?
Did I say I’m happy you came,
Your presence delights me like a poem,
And like the arrival of boats, and memories.
Let me interpret the greetings of the chairs towards you,
Let me express what fills the thoughts of the coffee cups,
As they ponder your lips,
And the weight of spoons and sugar.
Let me add you as a new letter
In the alphabet;
Let me contradict myself just a little,
And in love find the balance between civilization and savagery.
– Do you like the tea?
– Do you want some milk?
– And, as always, will you settle for one piece of sugar?
– I would rather your face without sugar.
I repeat for the thousandth time that I love you,
How can you want me to explain the inexplicable?
And how can you expect me to measure the size of my sorrow?
My sorrow is like a child, growing more beautiful each day.
Let me declare in all the languages you know and some you don’t,
I love you.
Let me search for words
As vast as my longing for you,
And for phrases that envelop your form,
With water, grass, and jasmine.
Let me think of you,
And long for you,
And cry and laugh for you,
Bridging the distance between dreams and certainty;
Let me call out to you, using all the letters of invocation,
Maybe if I call your name from my lips, you will be born anew.
Let me establish a realm of love,
You shall be its queen,
And I shall be the greatest of lovers.
Let me lead a revolution,
Securing the domination of your eyes among the masses,
Let me change the face of civilization through love.
You are civilization,
You are heritage forming in the heart of the earth
For thousands of years.
I love you,
How can you expect me to prove that your presence in the universe,
Is like the presence of water,
And like the presence of trees,
And that you are a sunflower,
And an oasis of palms,
And a song that sailed from a string.
Let me convey to you in silence
When phrases fail to express what I endure,
When words become a conspiracy that ensnares me,
And poetry transforms into an artifact of stone.
Let me,
Speak of you within myself,
And between the lashes of my eyes, and my eyes.
Let me,
Communicate with you symbolically if you distrust the moonlight,
Let me express it in lightning,
Or the mist of the rain.
Let me offer the sea the address of your eyes,
If you accept my invitation for a journey.
Why do I love you?
The ship in the sea doesn’t remember how it was surrounded by water,
Doesn’t recall the dizziness it felt.
Why do I love you?
The bullet in flesh asks no questions about its origin,
And offers no apologies.
Why do I love you? Don’t ask me,
For I have no choice, and neither do you.
Poem: The Beginning of Love
A poem by the poet Adonis:
The lovers read the wounds / We wrote the struggles,
Time was different then, and we sketched
Our moments:
My face is the evening, your lashes the morning,
Our footprints are blood and yearning
Like them, / Whenever they awaken, they pick us
And cast their love away, leaving us
A rose for the winds.