To a Friend
- Written by: Elia Abu Madi
O you who are close to my heart,
Though you remain far from my sight,
My longing for you is stronger than
The desire of the healthy for rest at night.
I crave your company just as
The thirsty one yearns for a blooming flower.
Yet the distance drags me away from you,
And I resist this separation’s power.
Your words are like pearls to be treasured,
And your writings, they are gems refined.
I confide in you without blame,
For the suffering soul cannot be maligned.
A dull era yields only dull deeds,
Nothing else but a hard, weary grind.
In a gathering where no one truly cares,
No promises flourish, just echoes unkind.
They know not the essence of courage,
Only what simians have defined.
Whether they express approval or anger,
Their sincerity cannot be aligned.
He who does not honor pledges of trust,
Is not one to heed a warning sign.
If you count the men and measure their worth,
You will find them all to be entwined.
Their natures refuse to give, it seems,
Not every rich soul is generous or inclined.
The most generous among them is cold as stone,
His heart more unyielding than the hardest kind.
His fingers are rough, too tight to unbind,
Yet fears his guests like children confined.
Wretched is the person who does not benefit,
From other men nor can he ever find.
And I see those who contribute nothing,
Their existence is but a thorn, unkind.
A Friend of Mine with Virtue
- As stated by Jahadha al-Barmaki:
A friend of mine holds virtue,
A friendship akin to nobility.
He has cared for me beyond measure,
Deserving more than what is due.
If his qualities were appraised,
The gold would surely pale in value.
The Significance of Friendship
- As mentioned by Fida Taqan:
To my beloved friend,
My dearest companion,
Our intimate bond has lasted for years,
Your warm affection, so gentle and steady,
I cherish it greatly.
It is like a soft breeze that caresses my spirit,
Refreshing me in my times of despair,
Whenever I stumble through life’s endless roads.
You love me? Its history for me is long,
Your heart has shared its past since my childhood,
When I, a sorrowful child, sought affection,
Thirsty for the love of the grown.
As I listened to the women gathered around the fire,
Telling tales of a prince who loved
The daughter of a humble neighbor.
Did he love her? The words trembled in my small being.
There exists love, indeed. Someone to love, someone to cherish.
Yet my sorrowful heart, my little heart,
Wrestled with its own dryness, thirsting for the taste,
Yearning for a stream full of love.
But life has been miserly, oh, how cruel is the thirst of the young,
When warmth and kindness are lacking from the older.
And I discovered such love in the mournful verses of ‘Urwa,
And felt it in the lines of Qais, in the visions of Jamil.
How their emotions stirred me,
How I lived their love, their longing, their suffering.
My sorrowful heart whispered,
(How fortunate are the lovers despite their struggles.
How enriching it is when one has a true love.)
Yet there was no one to love me,
Until my elder brother returned from afar,
Brother Ibrahim; his heart was full of kindness,
A great generosity flowed from his spirit.
In my brother’s embrace, I found myself again,
Restoring the essence that was shattered
By the hands of others.
Here, I discovered who I am,
And understood the meaning of being loved.
Many left who cherished me,
For there was once only him who loved me.
Days passed by, my friend,
Arid, buried under snow and grief.
And my lonely heart wrapped itself in dryness,
Still searching for warmth.
Once more, my heart questioned life,
Seeking warmth in another’s heart.
And then life began to yield, as many loved me,
So many cared, yet still I remained thirsty,
Unquenchable, as though everything was a mirage.
I heard their whispers often,
Convinced myself that I lived them,
While all along, I was merely haunted by their illusions.
And I continued to wander through distant horizons,
Diving into oceans,
Searching in depths, in faces, in eyes.
In my despair, I reached out,
Yearning to touch them, to feel something genuine,
A truth I could hold in two hands.
Yet it was a mirage in mirage,
Colorless and tasteless.
For love among others has dried and lost,
Its essence trapped within the chest of a hollow love.
Love was a facade of a heart that has withered,
A warmth that lacked spirit, affection, and tenderness.
I have heard it often,
And tasted its grand deceit.
It was but a window into the pitiful,
A mask veiling the frostiness and emptiness of humanity.
No blame, my friend,
This era’s man is barren and poor,
His roots eroded, his dimensions flattened.
To no avail do we seek love to flourish when
Will you not love me?
No, please keep it close,
Allow me, my dear friend, the solace of your affection.
I wish to sip from your kindness during my long journey,
And find refuge under your faithful shade, when
I tire, when I escape from this long dryness.
Let me, my friend, hold onto your great affection.
My Friend
- Composed by Abdulaziz Jewida:
My friend, that poor soul,
Fortune cast him in a day,
Turning him into a poet like me.
He sleeps with a burden in his heart,
Once, he said to me, my friend:
There’s a sick mother at home,
A paralyzed soul,
Her sadness drapes over his verses,
On his return every day,
His mother would inquire:
Have you found the remedy?
Yet he can’t afford it;
His mother nears the inevitable end,
And so he …
Every day leads her on,
Claiming:
The kind of medicine
Is unavailable in the pharmacy,
And a friend will bring it in the evening.
Once, he told me that on returning,
With remedies in hand,
He dusted them off,
To accept condolences for his plight.
My Friend, Surely a Noble
- As noted by Ibn Nabatah Al-Masri:
My dear friend, indeed a noble,
The essence of friendship shines with command.
And still, you open for the gathering of kindness,
Doors of goodwill, ever expanding.
From you, generosity is well-known,
A testimony to beauty, grand and commanding.