Poem: Kissing the Rose
In the poem “Kissing the Rose,” the poet Mustafa bin Abdul Rahman Al-Shalayh conveys his feelings:
A song nourished by the rose,
A melody… a melody
And its honey dripped from a thousand nights
As it recounted
The tales,
And waxed with its light,
While its watery gaze
Glistens… glistens
In its passion.
As it languished,
And Scheherazade held close
Her nightly question
In a guarded silence;
Night, generous, bestowing
A softness upon the cheeks,
Sighs drifting up the stairways of nights,
Lost in their labyrinths
Of shadows… of shadows.
Embraced by the dreams of hope,
And lamented
By a song of a rose once held,
Promises… promises.
So, from where shall I journey to you,
Oh fragrance, beguiled by a thousand nights?
This rose breathes deeply,
Captivated, as it knocks on your window,
To dwell between your eyes
With the question of a poem about a rose’s kiss,
Awakening dreams and longing.
Poem: The Rose Comes to You Lovingly Preserved
In the poem “The Rose Comes to You Lovingly Preserved,” the poet Ibn Al-Mu’taz describes:
The rose comes to you lovingly preserved,
Like a beloved surrounded by reluctance,
As if its face, when the stars aligned,
Shone with brilliance in their appearances.
Its whiteness shadowed by a blush,
Like cheeks reddened from embarrassment.
Poem: Drink from the Rose in April, Awakened
The poet Abu Nuwas, in his poem “Drink from the Rose in April, Awakened,” writes:
Drink from the rose in April, awakened,
From the wine of the crimson color of Qutrubul,
And remove your veil; don’t come with decency,
As long as you dwell in Baghdad’s embrace.
Enjoy your youth with ancient wine, and do not
Drink as the dog drinks from its droppings.
Befriend those who show you love in this world,
And do not tie yourself to false friendships.
God forbid if you awaken with empty hands,
It is not your nature to indulge in idle thoughts.
Poem: The Rose Shop
In the poem “The Rose Shop,” the poet Susan Aliwan conveys:
A shop in a deserted street.
Its bricks are the melodies of the wind,
Its floor is salt dissolving in the rain.
Behind the foggy glass,
Empty vessels
And ribbons abandoned by butterflies,
A pair of scissors stained with a flower’s blood.
A rose hung on the door,
Simplifying the burden of words:
“We used to sell roses, here.”
Poem: Fill My Cup with Roses and Pour Me a Drink
In the poem “Fill My Cup with Roses and Pour Me a Drink,” the poet Mustafa Sadek Al-Rafii articulates:
Fill my cup with roses and pour me a drink,
For the rose’s blush from your cheeks is revealed.
It complained, in its shyness, to the breeze,
When the breeze passed by and breathed upon me.
Let us greet the morning with aged wine,
And allow indulgence, for time permits it.
As if a joy, upon a bittersweet heart,
Relieves one of sorrows and despair.
Consider it for yourself, as if it has rusted,
And with it, the heart is healed despite the pain.
To those who scolded me for folly,
What harm is there if a barking dog barks?
Do you not see the drink flowing,
As if hurt by your gaze?
It glimmers as if its flame,
Under the darkness, is the sunlight’s embrace.
It is lighter to me than what I thought
Was a spirit, and less than a phantom of sorrow.
And if you see sorrow threatening my joy,
Then look how it brings forth happiness.
The dawn never shied away from sadness,
In the horizon until it witnessed you and opened up.
And the birds above their pulpit,
Were silent, but when filled with it, they sang.
And jasmine and lily, out of envy,
Both fell upon their branches;
Competing in beauty momentarily,
Until your face appeared, and peace prevailed.
Poem: The Fragrance of Roses and Jasmine
In the poem “The Fragrance of Roses and Jasmine,” the poet Ibn Shahab expresses:
The fragrance of roses and jasmine blossomed,
And the longing returned on the wings of desire.
A fortunate star shone bright,
And the breeze of joy blew gently from the right.
The world swayed with delight, and no
One remained unhappy or sad.
The local bustling felt pride as
What was once illusion transformed into certainty.
The sword of justice returned to
Its rightful place after years had passed.
Kingdoms sang gloriously since beauty has graced the land,
Returning to the abode of the noble lord,
Whose only companions are the virtues of highness.
It has not seen in the days of youth
Debasement or disgrace.
Polished in morals and pure in intentions,
Complete in wisdom, both in this world and the next.
Joseph in the exalted house whose lineage,
Is of the finest roots that bear many sons.
His ancestors built for him in the heights
A tower of honor and a stronghold secure.
Honest ancestors whose glory shines bright,
From every radiant forehead known.
With him, we congratulate the king as he ascends
The platform of justice, worthy indeed.
He possesses insightful thoughts in leadership,
Distinguishing between the real and the misleading.
A skilled physician wise in art,
In kingship, able to heal every hidden ailment.
None among the best of rulers equals him,
For the glorious Osman, lion of the dens.
Except for what he knows of his capability in
Steering affairs with the science of certainty.
I swear by the sanctity of Islam, there will be no
Exemptions or oaths broken in our promises.
None among his peers equals him,
In being resolute and possessing sound judgment.
May God support him with assistance,
And I count his years in the hundreds.
O noble lord, accept this humble offering
From a loving heart bound in your care.
And take this history into account,
In a verse of poetry as a precious refrain.
Like Joseph the Just in his fairness,
Both ministers, trustworthy and sincere.
Poem: In the Season of Roses
In the poem “In the Season of Roses,” the poet Omar Abu Risha states:
Here in the season of roses,
We met without a promise,
And wandered in silent majesty,
Over the shoulders of eternity.
In our gazes lies hunger,
Yearning for what is forbidden!
And I adore your radiant neck,
Leaning against my arm.
We were a silent slumber,
Between cheek and cheek.
What my heart desires, I see in your heart,
Doesn’t remain loyal to our vow.
I question my dreams of you,
And silence them from responding.
You wanted it and attained what you hoped,
From my honor and my glory.
For you are today my melodies,
And the melodies of the world thereafter.
How brief was love,
It vanished while in the cradle.
And I do not depart here,
In the shadow of this gathering alone.
Poem: The Rose on Your Cheek That Sprouted
In the poem “The Rose on Your Cheek That Sprouted,” the poet Imad al-Din Al-Ispahani writes:
The rose blossomed on your cheek,
The musk on your rose disintegrated,
And my heart, tethered by your absence,
Is gathered in the folds of your love.