Words About Nature
Here is a collection of insightful phrases about nature:
- One cannot forget the underlying harshness that accompanies the beauty of nature.
- Nature embodies simplicity while its art can be heavily intricate.
- Cooperation is the fundamental law of nature.
- We will only truly appreciate the beauty of nature if our souls are rich in the laughter and playfulness of childhood.
- All miracles are natural; indeed, the entirety of nature is a miracle.
- Deep within nature lies a vibrant plant life, flourishing amidst the darkness, and from the depths of material night bloom the blackest of flowers.
- We should not be surprised by nature’s order; with sufficient analytical insight, any natural path can be shown to possess a kind of organization that should amaze us for its simplicity and discoverability.
- No beauty in nature can rival the beauty of the woman you love.
- Look deeply into nature, and then you will understand everything better.
- Like music and art, the love for nature serves as a universal language that transcends political and social boundaries.
- Nature often conceals profound truths, which are filled with compassion for human emotions.
- Nature treats us kindly as it allows us to find knowledge wherever we turn in the world.
- The law of nature is an instinct that evokes our sense of justice.
- Nature delights in simplicity.
Reflections on the Beauty of Nature
Here are two reflections on nature:
- In spring, the world awakens and nature adorns itself, the skies smile, and the sun shyly shines, seeking out blooming flowers to rest its rays upon after a long absence. It is the season when creatures rejoice, the atmosphere softens, and the harsh clouds disperse. The winds and storms quiet down, giving way to blooming flowers and butterflies, heralding the myriad seasons of joy with spring reigning supreme. It symbolizes renewal, transformation, and a zest for life, rekindling hope and coloring the world in vibrant green—a joy without equal.
- In spring, dreams take on a rosy hue, and the sight of lush greenery everywhere soothes the eyes. Butterflies dance joyfully from flower to flower, reveling in the warmth of the sun as it gently embraces the earth. The mild weather makes it a delight to embark on long journeys, as nature unveils its numerous delights during this season. Thus, it dresses in its most beautiful and vibrant attire, perfuming the air with floral scents. Trees reclaim their greenery after shedding their old coats, and animals awaken from their long slumber. Spring is their season to regain vitality and begin the cycle of reproduction.
Words Celebrating Nature and Spring
Here are some words reflecting on nature and spring:
- Spring has emerged with its vibrant water; behold the beauty of its land and sky; the earth between its majestic hold and flowing waters radiates light and beauty, and the birds sing like free souls, as joyful as craftsmen in their songs.
- In the heart of every winter lies a stirring spring, and behind the veil of every night lies a smiling dawn.
- Youth without dreams is like spring without flowers.
- Spring is nature’s smile before it offers its gifts; for without a smile of contentment, giving holds no value.
- The gentle breezes of the departing spring sometimes remind us of a bygone era, which we have no right to reclaim.
- Welcome the spring’s blooming flowers, along with the light of joy it brings and the charm of its blossoms, enhancing its beauty and adding elegance to its rich attire, making it a season of pride amidst time, resembling the figure of a poet.
- The East is a radiant enchanting world, a paradise on earth, a continual spring brimming with flowers, a laughing garden that God has adorned with more blooms than any other, filling its sky with countless stars and its seas with abundant pearls.
- There are flowers for every season, not only for spring.
- There is no winter without snow, no spring without sunshine, and no joy without sharing.
- Few comprehend that the madness of spring is born from the sorrow of autumn.
- Spring does not pause for a seed still learning to grow and green.
A Poem Embraced by Nature
As Nazzak Al-Malaika says:
O you poets, lovers of inspiration
And of the spirit, dreams, and melodies,
Keep away, flee from love,
And let your songs escape from sin.
Run away, do not desecrate the realm of art
With these human emotions.
Preserve for the arts their sacred temple,
Sing the hymns of the divine.
You have enjoyed life’s sweetest essence
While others dwell in its dark night.
Content yourselves with your melancholies and love art,
And live in the solitude of the prophets,
Then ages to come will celebrate your memory,
As you dwell within the embrace of the sky.
Be satisfied with the passion of your art,
And the enchanting charm of nature,
And dream of birds in the shade of trees,
Hovering between soaring and singing.
Adore the snow on the mountainous lands
And the blooms in the valley slopes.
Listen to the songs of doves calling
Through the deep, dark nights.
Rest under the willows’ shadows
And listen to the murmuring water,
Draw inspiration from the rhythm of gentle rain.
Sing alongside the shepherd as he passes
With his beautiful flock by the cabin.
Love the palm trees, wheat, and flowers,
And be enchanted by the captivating fields.
Willow trees offer shadows far lovelier
Than those of palaces and balconies.
The shepherd’s song is purer melody
Than the clamor of horns and wheels.
The fragrance of wild orange blossoms is sweeter,
Than the dust accumulating in the cities.
The purity of fields strikes deeper in the soul
Than the violent and harmful wars.
The love of butterflies for flowers is nobler
Than the passions of human lovers.
The breeze of the villages is truer
To the promises of love than the humans’.
And the ideal life of the shepherd is far richer
Than the life of the opulent in their mansions.
On the slopes, where sweet flocks graze by the brook,
Where sheep bleat in the embrace of nature
And dance freely in expansive fields.
And the singing shepherd rests beneath the stars,
Yielding to the whispers of fantasy,
With the cheerful flute in hand, he converses
With the flock and sings to the rhythm of life,
Drawing inspiration from the gentle water’s songs.
Ah, if only I lived in the distant mountains,
Herding sheep each morning
And singing to the willows and cypresses.
And listening to the whistling winds,
Embracing the vines, leaves, and blooms,
And living life like a god.
Each day, I would go to the valley’s banks,
And gaze upon the clarity of the waters.
My friends would be the snow, blossoms, and streams,
With the lute as my companion and savior.
In the mountains would lie my poetic collection
A masterpiece of an illustrious poet.
I would sing sometimes, and the voices of the valley
would listen to my melodies and heights,
And I’d converse with my book, while nearby
You would find the warm whispers of a poet.
And the gentle murmur of the creek springs
Flowing towards the valley’s edge.
The tender bleating of sheep resonates
And the breeze hums along in harmonious song.
Oh, how I wish to have a poetic abode
Amongst the sorrowful meadows.
In the silence and solitude of villages, intact
My life abides, away from the city’s din.
How I wish to be among those mountain girls,
Where beauty resides at every turn.
Oh, how I wish for wishes to only bring tears
To every eye that holds hope.
I was destined for years to be here,
Living my life as a delicate, grieving heart.
Within the mist of imagination, I walk as well,
A world rich in beauty dies and is reborn.
They relished their days and rebelled against them,
Thus I lived in dreams of hidden lands.
If I was born amidst this tumult,
Let me escape into my fantasies.
Let me exist in a realm where the soul roams free
Among the meadows and herds.
This is how hopes calm and fade
And bury the bitterness of sorrow.
This is how I bury my ambition as those
Who dream of a future, being purely human.
And the eyes of fate laugh at me,
Mocking my frail humanity.
O eyes of fate, do not gaze upon me with tears,
Nor ridicule my heavy heart.
If there is ambition in my blood akin to a prophet’s,
The despair of the hopeless fills my eyes.
This ambition may have been a curse any day,
Oh, how I wish I had resisted its lure.
Each time time has realized a dream for my heart,
I would picture life to be otherwise.
I know not what my heart will glean
From the wandering skies and stars.
A Poem About Nature
As Ahmed Shawqi expresses:
That nature! Stop with us, O wanderer,
Until I show you the exquisite creation of the Creator.
The earth around you and the sky have shaken
With magnificent signs and wonders.
From every eloquent declaration of majesty, it is as though
It is the mother of the book on the tongue of the reader.
They point to the Lord of the kings, there is nothing left
For the evidence of the scholars and learned.
Whoever doubts it, a mere glance at creation
Should obliterate the weight of disparagement and denial.
The veil was lifted from divinity’s secrets
And nature radiated, unshielded by barriers.
I liken her to Bilqis upon her throne,
With grace, armies, and attendants.
Or to the son of David, with an expansive realm
And features of grandeur basking in honor.
The winds howl in her gates
And the birds chirp with joy in their beaks.
She stands upon the verdant expanse—as if it were
The bliss that grants eternity to the virtuous.
How many in her charms have gazed, some of her maidens
Adorned with anklets and cuffs fair!
Adorned and blushing cheeks, knitted finely
Through the soft silk of her shimmering garments.
And in a joyful grin that fills the world with light,
And with tears that ever flow.
And solitary among the highlands, she laments her solitude,
Yet many friends exist in the depths.
And as you pass through lush valleys, you might mistake them,
As if the flora reflects nature entirely.
The sweetness of intertwining waves and the call of thrushes
Is like the gentle fingers that play on the strings.
Her waters embrace elegance and dazzle
Playfully wrestling with gems and artisanal stitches.
It flows in a meadow, moist and draped,
Weaved from fine silk and resplendent brocade.
A radiant ally of lovers in the pursuit of passion,
Selected by poets who revel in her sway.
Ice has fled and the cry of joy reflects her grace,
Much like the weeping of longing young men under her rule.
And you see the sky lit in both daylight and twilight,
Cracked apart from rivers and seas.
With every direction you traverse, follow the path
To lofty mountains and flowing waters.
From every torrential bank and sloping peak
To valleys unspoiled, fragrant with decorum.
He binds a turban for one who is tall and proud,
Conspicuous from the elders of Nizar.
And a disbeliever rejects its echo in the waters,
As it tumbles down in currents.
The cosmos fills with clamor, infused into sad tunes,
So that, as if a storm from all quarters, we see.
And just as with Noah’s flood, no ship we see
As it has turned into quick flowing water.
It traverses the realm of sorrow and plains
And folds the paths of the Serbs and Bulgarians.
Until he cast our tents and hopes
Into the vast domain of a cherished neighbor.
A king rests against his crown when welcomed,
Wearing both a crown of guidance and a crown of glory.
The Pleiades lies firmly in the abode of majesty,
Where his virtues traveled forth to cities.
For the East is nourished with dew from His hand,
And the West receives rain tenderly.
And the cities of the dry land with their grandeur
And the oceans’ domains receive reverence.
May God bless him with tigers of the sea,
In the likeness of wielding the fighting spear.
Fighting foes valiantly, on the swift steed,
Descending upon foes with loyalty.
They bought the pleasure of God with their sons
And their wives and their wealth and years.
They stand fast behind the banner of His prophet,
Establishing their makeshift homes alongside the supporters.
O throne of Constantinople, you have attained a rank
Not bestowed upon you in past eras.
You have been honored with the companion of the truthful and the valiant,
Indeed, with one closer to the chosen one.
Guardian of the caliphate, its grandeur, and power,
Guiding firm counsel and the drawing sword.
Richness often befell capitals with the hallmarks
Of the seated hunter with imposing presence.
Of utmost majesty, it seems as if his throne
Is part of that luminous throne in the halls of luminous light.
It captured the Bosporus in its flowers as the night falls,
And it shimmers as homes of lunar crescents.
For the full moon gazes from the windows of shelters,
And the sun shines down from there.
And the stars of the Pleiades rise in meadows,
And the eagle nests among the branches.
The name of the Caliph glows in the corners,
It illuminates the path and guides the wanderer.
They have written it in the heights of lofty structures;
They have often penned it in minds and hearts.
O solitary figure of Islam without defenses—
I am in your time the greatest of poets.
In your praise lies eternal glory,
Poetry written upon the lofty stars.
I have devoted my love to you in faithfulness,
And made it my battle cry until death.
I ask not for the life’s fleeting rewards; rather,
I lend to your cause and to the Chosen One.
The act of generosity cannot be noble
Until a noble craftsman takes it up.
And love is not pure if it lacks
Class and generosity therein.
And poetry is a gospel when invoked
In the spread of honor and protecting the modest.
You have thus drawn away from the dirt and the mire,
For the literary man is forgiving and concealing.
Among the follies of the politicalness of his age,
There lies a secret; it holds all secrets.
This is a gathering in which you are Muhammad,
And the enemies of the self are a singularity in the inferno.
Indeed, the crescent exists, and you alone are its refuge
Between strongholds and walls.
No one else remains to express its protection;
Guard it by the strength of one, the Almighty.