Sweetest Words of Love

The Essence of Love

Love is the highest form of human emotion. It is that delicate feeling that touches the heart, transforming individuals into happier, more joyous people. Love equips us to endure the hardships of life, and how beautiful it is when a lover finds someone who reciprocates that feeling with sincerity and dedication. Here, we present a collection of the sweetest expressions of love.

Heartfelt Expressions of Love

  • Doubt acts as an axe against the tree of love.
  • A man’s worries are many, with the greatest being the separation from a woman he loves.
  • Between love and hate lies a thread of smoke, easily severed by a gentle breeze.
  • Take your time in choosing a beloved, and do not rush in letting go of them.
  • Ambition is like love; neither can tolerate competition or delay.
  • Three things must never be concealed: love, acknowledgment, and truth.
  • A woman’s true love for you is proven by how she mirrors your actions.
  • It is unjust to label love as a fire, for human love does not turn to ash.
  • The woman chooses the man who will choose her.
  • Love is like a vessel; if it carries more than one, it sinks.
  • True devotion consists of three traits: cherishing the words of your beloved over others, preferring their company, and prioritizing their happiness above all.
  • A lover who weeps and laments can drive a woman away from love; if you wish to draw her closer, strive to bring her joy, for a woman’s heart resembles that of a playful child.
  • Once a woman loves, that love becomes a religion, worshiping her beloved as a deity.
  • Love begins with a word and often ends in shock.

Poetic Verses about Love

Poem: “Love Does Not Silence Us”

This poem, titled “Love Does Not Silence Us,” is penned by the esteemed poet Al-Mutanabbi, whose full name is Ahmad ibn al-Husayn ibn al-Hassan Al-Ja’afi al-Kufi al-Kindi, also known as Abu al-Tayyib. He was born in Kufa, grew up in the Levant, and later traveled to the desert to seek knowledge in Arabic language and literature. Al-Mutanabbi is considered one of the wisest poets and a pride of Arabic literature.

الحُبُّ ما مَنَعَ الكَلامَ الألْسُنَا

وألَذُّ شَكْوَى عاشِقٍ ما أعْلَنَا

ليتَ الحَبيبَ الهاجري هَجْرَ

الكَرَى من غيرِ جُرْمٍ واصِلي صِلَةَ الضّنى

بِتْنَا ولَوْ حَلّيْتَنا لمْ تَدْرِ مَا

ألْوانُنَا ممّا اسْتُفِعْنَ تَلَوُّنَا

وتَوَقّدَتْ أنْفاسُنا حتى لَقَدْ

أشْفَقْتُ تَحْتَرِقُ العَواذِلُ بَينَنَا

أفْدي المُوَدِّعَةَ التي أتْبَعْتُهَا

نَظَراً فُرادَى بَينَ زَفْراتٍ ثُنَا

أنْكَرْتُ طارِقَةَ الحَوادِثِ مَرّةً ثُمّ

اعْتَرَفتُ بها فصارَتْ دَيْدَنَا

وقَطَعْتُ في الدّنْيا الفَلا ورَكائِبي

فيها وَوَقْتيّ الضّحَى والمَوْهِنَا

فوَقَفْتُ منها حيثُ أوْقَفَني النّدَى

وبَلَغْتُ من بَدْرِ بنِ عَمّارَ المُنى

لأبي الحُسَينِ جَداً يَضيقُ وِعاؤهُ

عَنْهُ ولَوْ كانَ الوِعاءُ الأزْمُنَا

وشَجاعَةٌ أغْناهُ عَنْها ذِكْرُها

ونَهَى الجَبَانَ حَديثُها أن يجُبنَا

نِيطَتْ حَمائِلُهُ بعاتِقِ مِحْرَبٍ

ما كَرّ قَطُّ وهَلْ يكُرُّ وما کنْثَنَى

فكأنّهُ والطّعْنُ منْ قُدّامِهِ

مُتَخَوِّفٌ مِنْ خَلفِهِ أنْ يُطْعَنَا

نَفَتِ التّوَهُّمَ عَنْهُ حِدّةُ ذِهْنِهِ

فقَضَى على غَيبِ الأمورِ تَيَقُّنَا

يَتَفَزّعُ الجَبّارُ مِنْ بَغَتاتِهِ

فَيَظَلّ في خَلَواتِهِ مُتَكَفِّنَا

أمْضَى إرادَتَهُ فَسَوْفَ لَهُ قَدٌ

واستَقرَبَ الأقصَى فَثَمّ لهُ هُنَا

يَجِدُ الحَديدَ على بَضاضةِ جِلْدِهِ

ثَوْباً أخَفَّ مِنَ الحَريرِ وألْيَنا

وأمَرُّ مِنْ فَقْدِ الأحِبّةِ عِندَهُ

فَقْدُ السّيُوفِ الفاقِداتِ الأجْفُنَا

لا يَستَكِنّ الرّعبُ بَينَ ضُلُوعِهِ

يَوْماً ولا الإحسانُ أنْ لا يُحْسِنَا

مُسْتَنْبِطٌ من عِلْمِهِ ما في غَدٍ

فكأنّ ما سيَكونُ فيهِ دُوِّنَا

تَتَقاصَرُ الأفهامُ عَنْ إدْراكِهِ

مِثْلَ الذي الأفْلاكُ فيهِ والدُّنَى

مَنْ لَيسَ مِنْ قَتْلاهُ من طُلَقائِهِ

مَنْ لَيسَ ممّنْ دانَ ممّنْ حُيِّنَا

لمّا قَفَلْتَ مِنَ السّواحِلِ نَحْوَنَا

Cَفَلَتْ إلَيْها وَحْشَةٌ من عِندِنا

أرِجَ الطّريقُ فَما مَرَرْتَ بمَوْضِعٍ

إلاّ أقامَ بهِ الشّذا مُسْتَوْطِنَا

لَوْ تَعْقِلُ الشّجَرُ التي قابَلْتَها

مَدّتْ مُحَيّيَةً إلَيكَ الأغْصُنَا

سَلَكَتْ تَماثيلَ القِبابِ الجِنُّ من

شَوْقٍ بها فأدَرْنَ فيكَ الأعْيُنَا

طَرِبَتْ مَراكِبُنَا فَخِلْنا أنّها

لَوْلا حَيَاءٌ عاقَها رَقَصَتْ بنا

أقْبَلْتَ تَبْسِمُ والجِيادُ عَوَابِسٌ

يَخْبُبْنَ بالحَلَقِ المُضاعَفِ والقَنَا

عَقَدَتْ سَنابِكُها عَلَيْها عِثْيَراً

لوْ تَبتَغي عَنَقاً عَلَيْهِ لأمْكَنَا

والأمْرُ أمرُكَ والقُلُوبُ خوافِقٌ

في مَوْقِفٍ بَينَ المَنيّةِ والمُنى

فعَجِبتْ حتّى ما عَجبتُ من الظُّبَى

ورأيْتُ حتّى ما رأيْتُ منَ السّنى

إنّي أراكَ منَ المَكارِمِ عَسكَراً

في عَسكَرٍ ومنَ المَعالي مَعْدِنَا

فَطَنَ الفُؤادُ لِما أتَيْتُ على النّوَى

ولِمَا تَرَكْتُ مَخافَةً أنْ تَفْطُنَا

أضحَى فِراقُكَ لي عَلَيْهِ عُقُوبَةً

لَيسَ الذي قاسَيْتُ منْهُ هَيّنَا

فاغْفِرْ فِدًى لكَ واحبُني مِنْ بعدها

لِتَخُصّني بِعَطِيّةٍ مِنْها أنَا

وَانْهَ المُشيرَ عَلَيكَ فيّ بِضِلّةٍ

فالحُرُّ مُمْتَحَنٌ بأوْلادِ الزّنَى

وإذا الفتى طَرَحَ الكَلامَ مُعَرِّضاً

في مجْلِسٍ أخذَ الكَلامَ اللَّذْ عَنى

ومَكايِدُ السّفَهاءِ واقِعَةٌ بهِمْ

وعَداوَةُ الشّعَراءِ بِئْسَ المُقْتَنى

لُعِنَتْ مُقارَنَةُ اللّئيمِ فإنّهَا

ضَيْفٌ يَجرُّ منَ النّدامةِ ضَيْفَنَا

غَضَبُ الحَسُودِ إذا لَقيتُكَ راضِياً

رُزْءٌ أخَفُّ عليّ مِنْ أنْ يُوزَنَا

أمسَى الذي أمْسَى برَبّكَ كافِراً

مِنْ غَيرِنا مَعَنا بفَضْلِكَ مُؤمِنَا

خَلَتِ البِلادُ منَ الغَزالَةِ لَيْلَها

فأعاضَهاكَ الله كَيْ لا تَحْزَنَا

Poem: “The Book of Love”

“The Book of Love” is a poem by Syrian poet Nizar Qabbani, born in the Al-Midan neighborhood of old Damascus in 1923. He studied law at the Syrian University and worked in the diplomatic service for many years. Qabbani has published over 35 poetry collections throughout his career, spanning more than half a century.

1

As long as you, my green canary

My sweetheart

Then, indeed, God is in the heavens

2

My beloved asks me

What is the difference between me and the heavens?

The difference between you both

Is that when you laugh, my dear

I forget the heavens

3

Love, my dear

Is a beautiful poem written on the moon

Love is drawn on all the leaves of trees

Love is engraved on

The feathers of birds and the drops of rain

But any woman in my country

If she loves a man

Is thrown with fifty stones

4

When I fell in love

I changed

The kingdom of heaven changed

Nighttime sleeps in my coat

And the sun rises from the west

5

Oh Lord, my heart is no longer enough

Because the one I love is worth the world

So place a new one in my chest

That fits the expanse of the world

6

You still ask me about my birthday

So record this, then, as what you don’t know

The date of your love for me is my birth date

7

If the genie emerged from its lamp

And said to me: I am at your service

You have one minute

To choose anything you want

From precious gems and emeralds

I would choose your eyes… without hesitation

8

With those two black eyes

Those two awake, rain-filled eyes

I ask my Lord for only two things

To protect those eyes

And to extend my days by two

So I can write a poem

About those two pearls

9

If you were at my level, my friend

I would throw away the jewels you have

And sell everything you possess

Just to sleep in your eyes

10

I complain to the heavens

I complain to the heavens

How could you, how could you, summarize

All the women in the universe?

11

Because the language of dictionaries has died

Because the language of letters has died

Because the language of novels has died

I want to discover a way of love

Where I can love you… without words.

12

I haven’t told them about you … but they

Have seen you bathing in my eyes

I’ve not spoken to them about you … but they

Have read you in my ink and on my pages

Love has a fragrance… it cannot

Help but waft from the peach orchards

13

I hate to love like others

I hate to write like others

I wish my mouth were a church

And my letters were bells

14

My pens have melted in your love

Of blue, red, and green

Until the words came to an end

I’ve hang my love for you on the bracelets of doves

And I didn’t know, my dear

That passion flies like doves

15

Count on the fingers of two hands what comes

First: my beloved, you

Second: my beloved, you

Third: my beloved, you

Fourth, fifth

Sixth, seventh

Eighth and ninth

Tenth… my beloved, you

16

Your love, O deep-eyed

Is a vision

A devotion

Your love is like death and rebirth

Hard to invoke twice

17

Twenty thousand women I loved

Twenty thousand women I tried

And when I met you, my beloved

I felt that now I had begun

18

I have reserved a room for two in the house of the moon

To spend the weekend there, my beloved

The hotels of the world do not please me

The hotel I wish to inhabit is the moon

But there, my beloved

They do not accept visitors who come without a woman

So will you come with me,

My moon… to the moon?

19

You will not escape from me, for I am destined for you

You will not flee from me… for God has sent me to you

So once, I emerge from the rabbit of your ears

And once, I emerge from the turquoise bracelets on your hands

And when summer comes, my beloved

I will swim like fish in the oceans of your eyes

20

If you had remembered every word

I uttered during those two years

If I could open the thousand messages… that

I wrote in two complete years

We would have soared like two doves in love

And the ring you wear on your left hand would hold two rings

21

Why… why… since you became my beloved

Does my ink light up, and my notebooks grow grass?

Things have changed since you loved me

And I have become like children, playing in the sun

And I’m not a prophet sent, but when I write about you,

I become a prophet…

Thoughts on Love

We are consumed by love, and the individuals we lose ourselves in are transient by nature; this is amusing yet it does not make us laugh, but rather weep and suffer as our intentions become obscured. We fall for people, while in reality, we are enamored with the meanings we project onto them.

Does one who never anticipates an early departure know that words do not wait? The words of love do not forgive two; one who harbors them out of arrogance or malice, and the one who unjustly did not grant the chance to express them.

Love can either be the remnant of something that was once immense and is now dwindling, or it may be a fragment of a future greatness yet to come. However, in the present, it scarcely satiates one’s desires, offering considerably less than what one had hoped for.

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