Beautiful Poems About the Homeland
- The poet Suleiman Jawadi states:
I have no homeland but this homeland.
I have no homeland except this one
Where love is nurtured
And songs are spread.
This is the place where passion flourishes
And dreams bloom.
I have no homeland but this one
That resides in my veins.
I have no islands other than those that have made
My ribs a rendezvous for hardships.
O body that continues to bear me,
Am I a harbor or ships?
Am I an oasis of love or cities?
O my body,
I am drowning in the affection for my homeland.
I am a lover born before time awakens.
Born before love was born
From the womb of words,
Before people knew what light and darkness mean.
I am a lover,
So make me a hymn on the lips of the innocent.
I am a lover,
So let me express my love
As my homeland desires and as I desire.
For I have no homeland but this homeland.
I have no time but this time,
Other than this time,
Other than this time.
- The poet Nizar Qabbani writes:
O my friend,
In these days, O my friend,
A summer butterfly called homeland emerges from our pockets.
A Syrian arbor that goes off our lips and is called homeland.
It comes out from our shirts—
Minarets, nightingales, brooks, cloves, quince—
A waterbird called homeland.
I want to see you, my lady,
But I fear injuring the feeling of homeland.
I want to call to you, my lady,
But I fear the windows of homeland will hear me.
I wish to express love in my own way,
But I feel shy of my foolishness.
Beautiful Poems About Love
- The poet Abu Nuwas declares:
In love, there are wonders and torment,
And, O people, how amazing it is!
Whoever has not tasted love, I
Have experiences of love that I can share.
The mark of the lover on his face,
This is the captive of love, inscribed.
And for love, within me are nets set
On the stages of lovers, intent.
Until a beloved passes by him,
And time is destined to the human.
He said, and his eyes thirstily
Play with him while patience is defeated.
He has no flaw except for his goodness,
And by my father, what is his flaw but goodness?
He insults my honor while I protect his.
Thus, the beloved is bound.
- The poet Mahmoud Darwish conveys:
On the debris of our roses
And our faces on the sand,
If the summer winds blow,
We unfold our handkerchiefs
Slowly, slowly.
And we vanished through two songs, like captives,
We dodge a drop of dew.
Come back to my mind,
O sister!
The late night
Strips me of colors and shadows
And protects me from humiliation!
In your eyes, O my ancient moon,
My roots pull me
Into a blue slumber
Under the sun and the palm trees,
Away from the night of exile,
Close to the warmth of my family.
I long for my childhood in you,
Since the spring birds flew away.
The trees were stripped,
The sound of you, as it used to be,
Would come to me
From wells at times
And sometimes drops of rain would bring it
Pure, like the fire,
Like trees and like poetry, it pours down.
Come,
There was something in your eyes that I longed for,
And I was waiting,
And pull me to your arms;
Pull me as a captive,
From which forgiveness arises.
I longed for childhood in you
Since the spring birds flew away,
The trees were stripped!
The Most Beautiful Poems About Mother
- The poet Nizar Qabbani mentions:
Good morning, my beautiful.
Good morning, my ancient beauty,
Two years have passed, O mother,
Since the son who has sailed
On his mythical journey
And tucked in his suitcase
The morning of his green homeland
And its stars, its rivers, and all its red branches.
He hid in his clothes
A bouquet of mint and thyme
And a Damascene violet.
I am alone.
The smoke from my cigarettes bores me,
And the chair I sit on bores me,
And my sorrows are birds
Searching again for a field.
I have known the women of Europe,
I have known the feelings of cement and wood,
I have known the civilization of fatigue,
I traveled in India, in Sindh, around the yellow world,
And still found no woman who would comb my blond hair
And carry in her bag
My sugar-doll,
And dress me when I’m naked
And catch me when I stumble.
O my mother,
O my mother,
I am the son who has sailed
And still lives in his mind
With the sugar-doll.
So how, O my mother,
Have I become a father,
And I have not grown?
Good morning from Madrid,
What news of my jasmine there?
With it, I entrust you, O mother,
This darling baby,
For she was my beloved father’s most beloved.
- The poet Abdullah Al-Bardouni reflects:
You left me here among torment
And went away, O length of my sadness and despair.
You left me to misery alone here
And rested alone among the earth.
Where there is no tyranny or oppression,
Where not even a whisper or a cry can be heard.
Where there is no sword or cannons,
Where there is no war, nor the glint of weapons.
Where there are no chains or whips,
Nor pain that overcomes, and the oppressed suffer.
You left me remembering peace as one remembers
As an old man recalls the dreams of youth.
And you have gone far away, and my longing for you
Encompasses the past and oh, what a burden it is!
And age calls to her that I am calling her
Where I call her and she can’t hear me
Except the silence of the grave and the desolate wilderness.
Her death was my entire calamity,
And my life after her is among my calamities.
Where is her shade that has been sowed away
And gone from me with no return?
Days have passed like a wound through
The heat and the thorns of the highlands.
She left on roads of life that went
From difficult paths to hard worlds.
And she ended where the course of her journey finished
So she found peace under the curtains of absence.
Ah, “O my mother” and the thorny paths of grief
Ignite the pains in my melting heart.
Sad Poems by Ibn Al-Saahty
- The poet writes:
It is not easy, O Lami’a, my sorrow
Between an ease of your places and my grief.
How many branches withered in clarity
Fruiting in the twilight of a dark night.
In every moment, the sword glances at a desire,
And the twin soul, it stretches and curves.
Traveling from the rising of the sun at dawn,
Gazing at the piercing eyes of the fawn.
It dazzles and sings a joy,
Thus the green leaves call from the top branch.
It gathers down playful eyes from his cheek,
And it gathers gaze from lovers.
Whenever the blessings fall down on the earth,
The earth is watered by my tears.
And from shame and my tears, it pours
Whenever I find myself standing alone.
I thought my patience would be rewarded,
Then when it came, it deceived my hope.
So gather away and prevent your connection
We are satisfied with your love like desires.
We asked the vision of your kindness,
So ask it; might it inform of me.
O my cherished disallowed no access,
When will you heal a heart that has been oppressed?
With such delightful eyes, you harassed my heart,
With eyelids slenderer than the moon’s glow.
You prevented me from the grip and violence;
Forth it was taught since the curse and the stab.
So free my heart from the captivity of love,
For those who magnify love are of me.
Your eyes have been a trick of love as well,
As gratitude is a shadow of acceptance.
Desire settled in the threads of tears,
Before the thread of rain slackens.
I wouldn’t have crossed but for the clear call,
A receiver watches with a stable heart.
Sharp eyes enchanted me in every good,
Each thought, a behavior of every part.
It resembles the sun in its luminescence.
No blow has cast its care upon him.
He is a tall evergreen, most distant,
And he harvests love from those who have been kind.
Stay away from calamity since laughing shadows remain absent,
For they are very densely found there.
You were laughing at anyone who can find
In your days, the life of joy remains.
So in the distance, it was a pulling sword.
And the one who yearns for a biography makes it loud;
And still, give what used to be there’s more presence.
For solicitors rear it high against the back,
So they learn from those far and near.
Have waited for years and months, time to assemble
Then the dawn bursts with light all night long.
I have not found a night without magic’s shadow,
Nor have I found a day devoid of songs or dance.