Poem: A Gazelle Appeared to Me in a Garment
The poet Ibn Al-Sahati wrote in his poem “A Gazelle Appeared to Me in a Garment”:
A gazelle appeared to me in a garment,
Adorned with every imaginable hue.
Her colors shone bright from her face,
She is like the sun in a rainbow’s view.
Poem: O Abl, My Longing Has Extended
In his poem “O Abl, My Longing Has Extended,” the poet Al-Ahwasi Al-Ansari expresses:
O Abl, my longing for you has stretched,
As fear of separation has me bewitched.
I remain with a heart heavy with pain,
For the love you’ve taken is difficult to feign.
It feels like I am a bird in distress,
Yearning for the beauty I must confess.
I swore to you this morning, believe me,
By the house and the seven heavens, agree.
Your love to my heart is stronger set,
Than a thirsty soul that seeks a vine yet.
Poem: I Do Not Love Your Lands But
Qays ibn Dhrih conveys the sentiments in his poem “I Do Not Love Your Lands But”:
I do not love your lands, but indeed,
I kiss the traces of those who tread.
I have suffered with my love for Lubna,
A hardship that makes my thirst for drinks hard to shed.
Whenever the caller announces Lubna’s name,
I find myself unable to respond, feeling lame.
This is the act shared by both our elders,
They sought to bring me sorrow, igniting these smolders.
Poem: Your Face is Like the Beginning of the Poem
- The poet Nizar Qabbani articulates in his poem “Your Face is Like the Beginning of the Poem”:
Your face … is like the beginning of a poem,
Pulling me …
Pulling me …
As if I were a sail,
At night, towards the shores of rhythm.
It opens for me a horizon of chalcedony,
And the moment of creation.
Your face … an astonishing visage,
A watercolor painting,
A journey of the finest odysseys,
Between myrtle … and mint …
Your face …
This open notebook, how beautiful it is,
When I see it in the morning,
Bringing me coffee in its smile,
And the blush of apples …
Your face … leads me,
To the last poetry that I know,
And the final words …
And the last Damascus roses I love,
And the last doves …
Your face, O my lady.
A sea of symbols and new questions,
Will I return safely?
As the wind provokes me,
And the waves stir me,
And passion entices me,
And my journey is far …
Your face, O my lady.
A magnificent message,
That was written …
But has not yet reached the heavens …
Poem: Soad has Appeared in My Eyes
- In his poem “Soad has Appeared in My Eyes,” the poet Al-Akhṭal reflects:
Soad has appeared, and in my eyes there is a veil,
From my love, and my healthy body seems frail.
The heart, from love, has grown accustomed to sickness,
Whenever I remember her, the body feels weakness.
And if I forget her, or say she has departed,
Her traces revive, and I’m still broken-hearted.
Raised away from the eyes of people in chambers,
Where the old and ill dare not seek their famers.
In the wake of sleep, her delight returns to the heart,
As it awakens, and the troubles do impart.
It quenches the thirst with nectar sweet,
Upon Adam’s neck, where all beauty does meet.
Poem: A Gazelle on Her Cheeks
The poet Ibn Al-Rumi captures the essence in his poem “A Gazelle on Her Cheeks”:
A gazelle can be seen on her cheeks,
With the arrows of love from hearts it seeks.
My soul longs for those blooming gardens,
Red as the dawn, softly pardoned.
She tinted herself with colors divine,
With blood of the innocent, undesigned.
Rather, it came to them from fate’s own string,
They yearned for a requital, of the suffering.
Her eyes have wounded, claim from her bosom,
A longing in hearts, forever throbbing.
No equal to the perfection of meaning found,
Than the twin beauty from the sons of Jacob crowned.
Poem: A Beautiful Doll Entices the Gaze
In his poem “A Beautiful Doll Entices the Gaze,” poet Ilya Abu Madi states:
A doll so beautiful enchants the sight,
Or is she a pure angel on the ground so bright?
A naive child, purer than blooms,
She graces the garden, where joy consumes.
Bearing a heart that refuses to harbor,
Hatred, and hides no sad endeavor.
She is oblivious to evil and does not know,
How to deceive nor to let sorrow grow.
She pays no heed to the whims of fate,
Whether fortune comes or starts to abate.
The universe seems grand with its sins,
Yet by her side, it seems to shrink and thin.
For her, the world is everything,
As her parents embody all living beings.
A wild boar may seem, yet she is no care,
As if the sinking shadow has no flair.
The apple has stolen from her cheeks,
While the gazelle borrows her grace, how it peaks.
With hair of golden threads that weave a tale,
And eyes playfully glancing without fail.
In love with the moon, she knows not how,
To know of gloom until the dawn will vow.
She stands, watching beneath the night’s embrace,
Like the lucky poets’ chance in their place.
The dark hides her brilliance in despair,
What moon in shadows does she ensnare?
Poem: I Love You, I Love You, and This is My Signature
The poet Nizar Qabbani fervently expresses in “I Love You, I Love You, and This is My Signature”:
1
Do you have any doubt that you are the sweetest woman in the world?
And the most significant woman in the world?
Do you have any doubt that when I found you,
I possessed the keys to the world?
Do you have any doubt that when I touched your hands,
The structure of the universe changed?
Do you have any doubt that your entrance into my heart,
Was the greatest day in history?
And the most beautiful news in the world?
2
Do you have any doubt about who you are?
O being who occupies pieces of time in my sight;
O woman who shatters the sound barrier when you pass,
I do not know what happens to me?
For it feels like you are my first love,
As if before you, I had not cherished.
As if I had never known love, nor kissed, nor cared.
You are my birth, and before you, I cannot remember the air.
You are my armor, and without your tenderness, I cannot recall breathing…
As if I emerged from your womb like a fledgling…
3
Do you have any doubt that you are a part of my essence?
And that I stole the fire from your eyes?
And led my most perilous revolts?
O you, the rose, the ruby, the basil,
The queen,
The popular and lawful among all queens…
O fish swimming in the waters of my life,
O moon rising every evening from the window of words…
O greatest conquest among my conquests,
O final homeland where I am born…
And buried in…
And publish my writings…
4
O wondrous woman… my wife,
I do not know how the waves threw me at your feet,
I do not know how I walked toward you…
And how you walked toward me…
How lucky I was when I stumbled upon you…
O woman who becomes part of poetry…
You are warm like the sand of the sea…
You are wonderful like a night of destiny…
From the moment you knocked on my door, life began…
How beautiful my poetry became…
When it circulated between your hands…
How rich and strong I became…
When God gifted you to me…
Do you have any doubt that you are a spark from my eyes?
And that your hands are an extension of my light…?
Do you have any doubt…?
That your words come from my lips?
Do you have any doubt…?
That I am in you… and you are in me?
5
O fire that ravages my being,
O fruit that fills my branches,
O body that cuts like a sword,
And strikes like a volcano,
And runs toward me like a horse…
Tell me:
How will I save myself from the waves of the flood…
Tell me:
What should I do about you? I am in a state of addiction…
Tell me what the solution is? For my longings
Have reached the borders of delirium…