The Horse, the Night, and the Wilderness Know Me
By the poet Abu Tayyib Al-Mutanabbi:
Alas! My heart aches for someone whose heart is untouched,
And my body and my state know the suffering he brings.
Why should I conceal a love that has consumed my body,
While he claims to love the swords of state and noblemen?
If our bond is forged through love for his radiant charm,
How I wish we could share the depth of that affection equally.
I have visited him with my swords sheathed,
And gazed upon him while the blades dripped blood.
He was indeed the finest of all creations,
And within this perfection, there resided unparalleled virtues.
To miss the glory of the enemy he seeks is an equivalent loss,
In its essence lies sorrow, wrapped in a tapestry of blessings.
Fear has personified itself for you,
While respect affords you what beasts cannot create.
Amplify My Confusion with Excessive Love for You
By the poet Ibn Al-Farid:
Add to my confusion with boundless love for you,
And have compassion for a heart that burns in your fire.
If I ask to see your true form, grant me this favor,
And don’t let your reply be that I shall not see.
O heart! You promised me patience in love,
So take care not to grow weary and despair.
For love is life itself, so die for it,
And it is only right that you embrace this fate.
Tell those who came before me and those after,
And those who now witness my anguish:
Take from me and follow my lead, let them hear,
And speak of my yearning among the crowd.
I have shared secrets with my beloved,
That are lighter than the breeze, as it drifts by.
She Turned Away After Approaching and Forsook Me
By the poet Ibn Rawaha Al-Hamwi:
She turned away after drawing near, forsaking me,
A moon that shames the two moons before it.
I do not call her name out of respect,
Though I mean to hide the longing that resides within.
My thirst for her can only be quenched by the end,
I wish the beginning were as gentle as what has befallen me.
O Eyes of the Antelope, What Spell Have You Cast?
By the poet Ibn Al-Saa’ati:
O eyes of the antelope, what spell have you cast on me,
With no place left in my heart to be steadfast?
Slowly, with a heart infatuated and entranced,
And gently with that suffering eyelid, deprived of sleep.
Stop! Bestow upon us, O mother of allure,
For the pause is not long enough for the lover.
In transitioning, I have no tender space,
Although it seems soothing, it provides no relief.
White the paleness of the sea maidens’ cheeks,
And yet they have never been beautified with kohl.
Perhaps a hope missed in this day may yet arrive,
To be met by good fortune that rises again tomorrow.
Afflicted by a companion whose stature is slender,
With a slight targeting of the waist, and delicately beautiful.
A Deer Lies on the Plain
By the poet Ahmed Shawqi:
A deer lies on the plain, between the green and the horizon,
Where taking my blood was permitted during sacred months.
Fate has sent an arrow to the lion from a distance,
O inhabitant of the plain, help the one in distress.
When her gaze fell on me, my soul whispered,
“Alas! Your side has been struck by the piercing arrow.”
I denied this and concealed the dart in my chest,
The wounds of love hold no pain in this stomach.
Your Eyes are Like Palm Groves at Dawn
By the poet Badr Shakir Al-Sayyab:
Your eyes are like palm groves at twilight,
Or like two balconies from which the moon retreats.
Your eyes, when you smile, make the vines bloom,
And lights dance like moons upon the river,
Disturbed gently by the oar at the time of dawn.
As if stars pulse within their depths.
Your Lips Are Stuck Against Mine
By the poet Badr Shakir Al-Sayyab:
Your lips are trapped against mine, and a small star,
Throws its light on remnants of tender embraces.
Then your hands loosened their hold on me, and silence descended,
A sweet intoxication burdened by the weight of separation.
They are as sweet as the faint swoon of a butterfly, overwhelmed and dizzy,
Endlessly so,
O whisper resting upon my lips,
That melted into a gentle sigh.
You Have Tormented Me, O Love of Lubna
By the poet Qais bin Dhariyh:
You have tormented me, O love of Lubna,
So grant me either death or life.
For death would be a respite compared to life,
Punctuated by distance and entanglement.
The closest have advised me to distance myself,
And I told them that my demise is now imminent.
Soad Has Departed and I Find No Peace in These Eyes
By the poet Al-Akhtal:
Soad has departed, and in these eyes, a storm brews,
From her love and genuine form, I am bewildered.
The heart suffers from her love,
If I remember her, the body surrenders to weakness.
And if I ignore her or claim that she has strayed,
Chords of longing return to bind me in my distress.
Rising high above the eyes of others in seclusion,
Where no ugly face dares enter, nor the ignorant.
Her essence haunts my heart after sleep,
Once awakened, the memories conquer me once more.
She offers sweet waters to the thirsty,
In the well of Adam, adorned by alluring tales.
Jewelry mirrors the whiteness of her neck,
As statues are sculpted in the temple of art.
In You I Struggle With Longing, Yet Longing Prevails
By the poet Abu Tayyib Al-Mutanabbi:
I wrestle in longing for you, yet longing dominates,
And I find it strange how separation and reunion bewilder me.
Do the days not falter in branding me,
As they keep me from the one they distance or bring close?
By Allah, my journey has little forgiveness,
In the evening, Eastern beauty and its allure seem to pale.
That evening, the closest of people thrived with my anger,
While the paths I sought to evade were stealthily chosen.
How often have the darkness of the night brought me fingers,
To signal that the mundane is a falsehood.
Casting you against an enemy’s snares has made you accessible to them,
And an adornment has visited you, a part of the adorned.
And like a night in love, I lay in wait for him,
Watching the sun as it prepares to set.
And my gaze leads to a recognition so dazzling,
That something, o’er the night, shimmers between his eyes like a star.
He possesses a quality that stands apart from him,
As it approaches a broad chest and then departs.
In Love, There Are Horrors and Torment
By the poet Abu Nawas:
In love, there are horrors and torment,
And curious anomalies, O fellow beings.
He who has not experienced love, for I am a person
With many tales of intimacy.
The mark of the lover shines upon his face,
This is the prisoner of love, the tale is inscribed.
For love has laid traps along
The path of those who have set their hearts upon it.
Until if a fervent lover passes by,
The moment for man is captured.
He said, while his eyes are bright,
And joys dance within, while patience is overwhelmed.
He possesses no flaw aside from his charm,
And by God, his only defect is his sweetness.
He denigrates my honor while protecting his own,
Thus the beloved remains oft-mentioned.
When My Beloved Visited Me at Dawn
By the poet Ibn Al-Naqeeb:
When my beloved visited me at dawn,
With careful steps, concealing his essence,
While the watchful standstill in his quest weakens,
Until I believed the one I cherished was a mere shadow.