Praise
Praise has long been a hallmark of poets and writers throughout history, representing one of the most significant forms of artistic expression. This art form is often directed towards various individuals such as mothers, fathers, brothers, friends, and teachers, and in the past, it was frequently aimed at princes and kings. The stylistic approach to praise varies, encompassing elements of pride, admiration, and sometimes associating with lineage, ethnicity, or status. In this article, we will present a collection of diverse expressions regarding praise and some of the finest words of commendation.
Words About Praise
- True praise is what your enemy speaks of you.
- Unmerited flattery is a disguised mockery.
- Praise after death is a second life.
- The best praise is the most sincere.
- Often, a person is praised until they are praised.
- Compliments enhance the atmosphere.
- To praise a man for what he does not possess is to exaggerate his faults.
- The most oppressive to oneself is to praise someone they do not know.
- Offer praise to a person after their death.
- True sincerity cannot coexist in the heart with a love for flattery and acclaim.
- Praise elevates the good man, while it debases the base man.
- He who praises you for something you lack has actually condemned you.
- Praise is hollow unless one has first praised themselves through genuine deeds unblemished by vice.
- It is wiser not to praise oneself even if such praise is justified.
- Excess praise without merit is sycophancy, while withholding praise when warranted is envy and slander.
- In flattery, there is a little love and a lot of reason.
- Do not praise the day until its sunset, nor a woman until her death.
- False praise is often preferred over honest criticism.
- Praise the day when nightfall arrives.
- The praise of the fool resembles the clouds of May.
- In praise, there often lies the beginning of insult.
- We do not offer anything at low prices like we do with praise.
- If a man praises himself, he diminishes his worth.
Messages of Praise
Message One:
Stars shine brightly in our sky,
Their brilliance never dims for even a moment.
We eagerly await their glow with longing hearts,
Delighting in their sparkle each passing hour.
Thus, you rightfully deserve the name exalted in the heavens.
Message Two:
You are a man in an era of pretenders.
You are the captain.
You embody truth and loyalty in a time of deceit.
May your life be sweet, O master of men.
And may my life feel sweet as well.
Message Three:
O leader of men and enchantment of Adam’s descendants,
O possessor of the majesty of kings and my beloved,
O whom I have no substitute for,
May God preserve you, my dear.
You and those like you deserve all the praise and admiration.
Thank you from the depths of my heart.
Message Four:
Perfection belongs to God,
Then to you and your masculinity,
And all that defines you, O master of all men.
You are my love, my affection, my beloved.
You are the man of my heart.
Message Five:
I take pride in your presence in my life.
Your friendship is a medal I wear on my chest.
For you are a truly unique man.
I have never encountered anyone like you among men.
Tell me, are all men like you,
That when they speak, doves fly from their throats?
Praise in Poetry
Restlessness on Restlessness and I Am Unsettled
The poem “Restlessness on Restlessness” is by Al-Mutanabbi, whose full name is Ahmad ibn Al-Hussein ibn Al-Hassan Al-Ja’fi Al-Kufi Al-Kindi, also known as Abu Al-Tayyib. He was born in Kufa and raised in the Levant, later moving to Iraq, where he praised ‘Adhud Al-Dawlah in Shiraz, praised Kafur Al-Ikhshidi in Egypt, and praised Saif Al-Dawlah in Aleppo. He is among the glories of Arabic literature, renowned for his wisdom, proverbs, and innovative meanings. In his poem, he writes:
Restlessness upon restlessness, and one like me is restless,
And longings grow, along with tears that flow.
The effort of yearning is to be as I see,
A sleepless eye and a trembling heart.
Whenever lightning flashes or a bird sings,
I turn, for I have a heart that longs.
I have tasted from the fire of love, what may extinguish,
The fire of passion, and it leaves me in anguish.
I blamed the lovers until I tasted it,
Then I marveled how one perishes without love.
I excused them, and I realized my fault was that I
Blamed them, and faced what they faced.
O my descendants, we are the people of homes,
Where the raven of separation always croaks.
We weep for the world, and there is no gathering,
That the world brought together but did not part.
Where are the kings, the giants who gathered,
And hoarded wealth, yet we remain and they are gone?
Of all who suffocate the expanse with their legions,
Now lies a narrow grave.
Mute when called, as if they did not know,
That speech for them is all permissible.
Death is certain, and souls are precious,
And the one who clings to what he has is a fool.
While man hopes, and life is alluring,
Yonder, old age weighs him down, and youth becomes scarce.
Indeed, I have wept for youth, and yet my gathering
Is darkened, and the hue of my face fades.
Take heed of it before the day of separation comes,
Until I am forced to let the tears of my eyes shine.
As for the sons of Aws ibn Ma’ān,
They are the most honored when the nightingale comes.
I mourned around their abodes when it appeared,
From them, the sun rises and sets.
I marveled at a land where their clouds
Do not rain, and its rocks do not bloom.
And from the fragrances of their praise rise,
Hoping that every nice gown gets inhaled.
They have musk-like vapors, yet they
Are wild and do not share with others.
Do you seek someone like Muhammad in our era,
Do not burden us with desires that cannot be fulfilled.
The Merciful has not created anyone like Muhammad,
I believe He will not create any.
O You who bestows abundance and is there,
Indeed you are the shepherd of it.
Send upon me clouds of your liberality,
And look upon me with mercy, lest I drown.
The son of a merchant lies, saying in ignorance,
“The noble have died while you are alive and being nourished.”
According to the Diligent, Come Efforts
Al-Mutanabbi states in his praise of Saif Al-Dawlah:
According to the diligent, efforts come,
And according to the noble, dignities arrive.
Small things appear enormous in the eyes of the small,
While in the eyes of the great, dignities shrink.
Saif Al-Dawlah commands his army with intent,
And the relentless armies become incapable.
He seeks at the people what is within himself,
And that which the lions do not dare to claim.
The intended birds of the finest age are his defense,
While the eagles of the wilderness prevail without claws.
Do the red occurrences know their color,
And do they recognize which of the two drinkers from the clouds?
They were rewarded before his descent,
When he approached them, they knew the battles.
For she raised him, and the spear strikes,
And waves of death surround it.
In her were the likeness of madness, and she became,
And from the corpses of the slain, the amulets arose.
Forsaken by an age that allowed it,
By the religion of the righteous, as fate yields.
She leaves, taking with her every item seized,
And they are for what they take from you as claims.
If what you intend is an action, a companion now,
Has passed before its forms fall upon him.
And how could the Romans and Russians hope to demolish it,
When this blade is its foundation and its pillars?
They held the parley, and death was the judge,
So no innocent has fallen, nor has a tyrant lived.
They arrived, dragging iron as if they had
Charged at gallant steeds that had no foundation.
And when they flourished, their white garments were unrecognized.
From them, their garments and turbans.
A host awaits in the east of the land, and its west advances,
While in the ear of the sky, there is noise.
All languages and nations have gathered within,
The words of the fresh cannot comprehend it like the translations.
Indeed, God has given time to melt deceit in fire,
Thus nothing is left except the sword or the scimitar.
What cannot cut the armor and the spear has been felled,
And he who runs from the knights will not engage.
You stand, and there is no doubt in death for the standing,
As if you were lying down while death is asleep.
Great heroes pass you by, carrying defeat,
And your face is radiant and your smile is bright.
You have transcended the limits of bravery and wisdom,
To the stature of those who say you possess knowledge of the unseen.
You envelop them tightly around the heart,
And the keenness of their blades dies under it.
With a stroke that reaches the heads, while victory is absent,
And it has come to the hearts, while victory draws near.
You dispelled the trivialities until you cast them away,
So much so, the sword seems to scorn the spear.
And whomever seeks the great open door,
Its keys are the white, agile swords.
You scattered them over everyone they caught,
Just as coins are thrown over a bride.
The steeds trample upon the hills,
And the banquets abound around the hilltops.
The young birds of victory believe they were visited
By their mothers while they were indeed genuine.
If they slip, they walk with their bellies,
Just as a snake walks in the wild.
Is this the day of the impending flow of fate?
His back is against the advance of the face, which is shameful.
How can the lion’s wind be denied until it is tasted,
While the beasts know the scent of the roaring lion?
Indeed, they confounded him with the son of his kin,
While the alliance bestowed upon the prince benefits.
He passed, thanking his companions in his battle of valor,
For they had engaged him then and were recognized.
And he understands the sound of the noble address,
Though the voices of swords are foreign to his understanding.
He enjoys what you have granted him, not out of ignorance,
But earns his due, leaving with the winner.
Though you are not a king who conquers his equal,
But you are the unity that conquers polytheism.
Adnan takes pride in it, unlike Rabe’a,
And the world glorifies it, unlike the capitals.
Yours is the praise found in the pearl-like glories,
For you are indeed the grantor of it, and I am its poet.
And I long for your generosity, seeking you in misfortunes,
So that neither I transform into blame, nor you feel regret.
I Protect You from Abuse After Praise
The honorable Al-Radi, whose full name is Muhammad ibn Al-Hussein ibn Musa, Abu Al-Hasan, and of the Alawi Al-Husseini lineage, was born in Baghdad. He is known for his works including “The Metaphor of the Quran,” “The Poetry of Al-Hussein,” “Noble Metaphors,” and “Selections from the Poetics of the Sabians.” Al-Radi passed away in Baghdad and was laid to rest in Karbala next to Hussein (may peace be upon him). In his poem, he expresses:
I seek refuge from abuse after praise,
So pardon me from fighting after peace.
I have bestowed upon you all my verses,
Yet upon receiving them, I found no grant.
My hand faltered where I hoped to find,
Your light aiding; in vain was my grasp.
And I was your ally, yet my sword was bent,
And I was your aid, but my spear was broken.
I was a protector, yet you humbled my household,
Your entry brought shame, my door was opened.
O lion I called upon to guard,
To protect my realm from the foes, yet you devastated my camp.
And O remedy I wished for,
With your hands, worsened the affliction of my wound.
O moon, which I sought to traverse with,
What darkness, may it veil from me?
I will cast my resolve amid the blackest nights,
Holding faith in nobility, in safety and solace.
For a noble of pure character,
With generous manners and befitting grace.
And they do not deceive me with levity,
Neither do they mislead through jesting.
If the night of calamities extends its reach,
Exclaming rapture for true resolve as dawn breaks.
And when the request inquires after bounty,
Yeilding to the pursuit of virtue, the end so great.
And I shun my vigor from each curse,
Des pairs distressing all things all night long.
No sight of anything but ugly after ugly.