Nizar Qabbani
Nizar Qabbani is widely regarded as the poet of love and the woman, a unique figure in the history of Arabic literature. While many poets exist, only he led the modernist poetry movement, stirring significant debate on various issues and themes. His work captured the attention of audiences in both the East and West, appealing to both young and old due to the simplicity of his language and the boldness of his subjects. Whether addressing themes of love and womanhood or sharply criticizing the conditions and corruption within Arab societies, he remains a passionate advocate for his homeland. Before his passing, he expressed a wish to be buried in his birthplace, Damascus, which he described as the womb that taught him the alphabet, poetry, and creativity. Nizar Qabbani passed away at the age of 75 on April 30, 1998, in Damascus.
A Brief Overview of Nizar Qabbani’s Life
Nizar Qabbani was born in Damascus in 1923, in the historic neighborhood of Midhat Pasha. His father, Tawfiq Qabbani, was a prominent trader in the city and owned a confectionery factory, dedicating his life and resources to the national movement against the French mandate. He inherited an appreciation for beauty and art from his uncle, Abu Khalil Qabbani, a pioneer of Arab theater. Growing up in this culturally rich family, Nizar had five siblings: Mu’taz, Rashid, Sabah, Haifa, and Wasal. A tragic event during his childhood—his sister’s suicide after being forced into an unwanted marriage—deeply affected him, shaping his philosophy on love and his resolve to combat the oppression of women through his poetry.
Qabbani completed his secondary education in Damascus and earned his baccalaureate from the National Scientific College. In 1945, he obtained a law degree from the Syrian University and subsequently entered the diplomatic service. He resigned in 1996, having served as a cultural attaché at the Syrian Embassy in Cairo, a position he held at the young age of 22. His diplomatic career led him to various countries, ultimately settling in Beirut.
Qabbani’s foray into poetry began in 1939, and his first collection, “Said to Me the Dark-Skinned,” was published in 1944. This work marked a significant departure from traditional Arabic poetry, facing criticism from conservatives and traditionalists for its candid exploration of contemporary emotional struggles. The 1967 Six-Day War deeply impacted his writing, prompting him to create works infused with anger and intensity, providing a bold self-critique of the Arab identity. His poems, “Bread, Hashish, and Moon” and “Margins on the Ledger of Defeat,” generated extensive debate in Arab society for their critique of superstition and societal oppression.
Most Beautiful Poem by Nizar Qabbani
While it is challenging to pinpoint a singular “most beautiful” poem, one notable collection is dedicated to his beloved wife, Balqis al-Rawi. Their love story reached profound depths; Qabbani often referred to her as a great treasure he discovered while traveling to Baghdad in 1962 for a poetry reading. Despite the family’s persistent opposition—fueled by their perception of Qabbani as the “poet of women”—he continued to pursue her. In 1969, during the Al-Murabid Festival in Baghdad, he recited a poem featuring Balqis as its central character, earning the sympathy of the Iraqi public. Eventually, the couple wed. Tragically, Balqis lost her life in the explosion of the Iraqi embassy in Beirut, prompting Qabbani to write a poignant elegy in her memory:
Elegy for Balqis
Thank you…
Thank you…
For my beloved has been killed, and now you can
Raise a glass over the grave of the martyr.
And my poem has been assassinated…
Is there any nation on earth – except us – that kills poetry?
Balqis…
Was the most beautiful queen in the history of Babylon.
Balqis…
Was the tallest palm tree in the land of Iraq.
When she walked…
Peacocks followed her…
And gazelles trailed behind her…
Balqis… O my pain…
And the agony of the poem when touched by fingers…
Will, perhaps…
After your hair, the wheat will rise?
O green Nineveh…
O my fair Gypsy…
O waves of the Tigris, “glimmering with
The most beautiful anklets in spring…”
They killed you, Balqis…
Which Arab nation…
Is it that:
Assassinates the sweetest voices of the nightingales?
Where is the Semaw’al?
And the Muha’lhal?
And the early greats?
Tribes that devoured tribes…
Foxes that killed foxes…
And spiders that killed spiders…
I swear by your eyes that harbor millions of stars…
I will declare, O my moon, wonders about the Arabs…
Is heroism a mere Arab lie?
Or is our history falsely composed?
Balqis…
Do not go missing from me,
For the sun after you
No longer shines on the shores…
I will say in my investigation:
That the thief is now dressed as a fighter…
And I will say in my investigation:
That the gifted leader is now like a contractor…
And I will say:
That the tale of radiance is the silliest joke ever told…
For we are but a tribe among tribes…
This is history, O Balqis…
How can a person unravel the difference between gardens and landfills?
Balqis…
O martyr, poet,
Pure and sanctified…
Sheba is searching for her queen,
So respond to the crowds with a salute…
O greatest of queens…
O woman embodying all the glories of Sumerian eras…
Balqis…
O my sweetest bird…
And my dearest icon…