The First Rain
In the gentle drizzle of rain,
Her lips were a rose blooming on my skin,
And her eyes were a horizon stretching
From yesterday to my future.
She was my sweet muse,
A remedy for the grave that embraced her.
I approached her
From the flash of the scythe
And the chants that arose from my father’s flesh,
Both fire and lament.
In the first rain, oh, dark-eyed one,
I held a garden and a home.
I wore a woolen cloak,
And I had seeds.
In your lost doorway,
Day and night intertwined.
You asked about the appointments we penned
On a clay notebook,
About the climate of distant lands,
And the bridge of the displaced,
And the earth you carry
Within a fig’s embrace.
You inquired about the mirrors that shattered
Years ago,
When I bid farewell to you
At the port’s entrance.
Her lips were a kiss
Carving a jasmine cross on my skin.
I Remember Layla and the Days Gone By
I reminisced about Layla and the days long past,
Those moments where we feared not the pull of revelry.
And one day, like the shadow of a spear, I shortened its essence
With Layla, who distracted me though I was not heedless.
In Thamdīn, a fire ignited for Layla and my companions,
On that very plain where we guided our steeds.
Then the keen-eyed among us said, “Did I glimpse a star?”
It shone in the darkness of night, solitary and Yemeni.
I replied, “Nay, it is Layla’s fire,
Its light ascends from a high abode.”
I wish the riders had not crossed the plain,
And that the plain had not led the riders through the nights.
Oh night, how many essential desires
I arrive with at your doorstep, incapable of knowing what they are.
My companions, if you do not weep for me, I seek
A companion who sheds tears when my own flow.
And so, I do not rise in my youthful years but from passion,
And I recite poetry only for healing.
And Allah may unite those parted after
Each believed, with certainty, that there would be no reunion.
May Allah curse those who insist that we
Have found love’s cure in all this duration.
Her Beauty Renewed Every Hour
Her beauty is renewed every hour,
Thus my passion knows no bounds.
My love, like her beauty, cannot dissolve—
Indeed, my longing, like her absence, will not fade.
But the imagination comes, extending my shyness,
That lingering idea remains in sight,
Yet the musk of her beauty lingers in my hands.
A maiden possesses a charm that overwhelms us,
And each has what time has taught him.
Without a doubt, she is a refreshing spring, yet
What remains of her calls me to inform.
She bore the adornment of both sides upon her neck,
Jewel and the graceful sweep of lashes.
Her gaze bewitches, indeed, it encompasses
Each day, from her, a new volume is written.
And we read strange tales from her lips,
Her charm lies in the sweetness of her smile.
Just as the kohl intertwines with the eyelash,
We drink from her reflections hapless.
She, in her beauty, brings both death and life,
And from her tenderness, she binds and loosens.
If she shows us her face at a time of meeting,
She reveals to us that which is awaited with desire.
She delighted me with a morning dew of daisies,
And bewitched me with blooming jasmines.
She aimed to enchant with her sorcery, yet failed
To realize that I am supported by the Supporter.
Whoever sees her sees the favor, yet
Her generosity in giving is where we find strength.
A king whose generosity draws near to us,
Just as his favor extends to us.
The seekers navigate in the darkness of the night
By the light of Muhammad’s guiding star.
God has adorned him with light, but
In the victory of his religion, he stands unadorned.
The religion’s resolve aids him; thus,
His remembrance in time endures, and it aids.
He is swifter than those who shield themselves in the heat,
And sharper than a skilled swordsman.
He has a spirited mind, robust and resolute,
With a towering stature and enduring honor.
Thus rejoice, for a celebration has come, and I congratulate
Him as he has fasted for a thousand years and celebrated.
For in his presence lies compassion and gifts,
And to him belongs eternal praise and admiration.
I Love You Until the Sky Rises Slightly
So that I may regain my strength,
And the vitality of my words,
And emerge from the shrouds of pollution
That surround my heart.
For without you, the earth is
A massive lie,
An overripe fruit.
Until I enter the realm of jasmine,
And defend the heritage of poetry,
The blue of the sea,
And the lushness of the forests.
I wish to love you,
Until I am reassured
That you are still well,
That you are still well.
And the fish of poetry swimming in my blood
Are still thriving.
I wish to love you,
Until I rid myself of dryness,
And salinity,
And the calluses on my fingers,
And my multicolored butterflies,
And my ability to weep.
I wish to love you,
Until I retrieve the details of our Damascene home,
Room by room,
Tile by tile,
Dove by dove,
And converse with fifty fragrant sheets
As a jeweler meticulously examines her wares.
I long to love you, dear lady,
In a time
Where love has become impaired,
And language is strained,
And poetry books are hindered.
For neither the trees can stand on their feet,
Nor the birds can use their wings,
Nor the stars can roam,
I wish to love you
From the gazelles of freedom,
And the final letter
From the messages of lovers,
As the last poem is hanged,
Written in the Arabic tongue.
My Heart is Not In Love, Instead It Cries
My heart is not in love, it cries,
Cry.
Even if I lament for the beautiful.
Beauty,
But my desire is to propose,
Advise.
And should he learn about my tale and state,
It matters.
My love has intertwined,
Woven.
In tears, pouring from my heart,
Pouring.
And the lute, which I possess, is for the one who interprets,
To speak.
And beauty lies upon the verses,
Repeat.
O mother of Sa’d, in the name of happiness,
Return.
And after a moment of stillness,
Gift.
To a king beneath the symbols,
Call.
He said, “Indeed, I am with whom calls me,”
Embrace.
And remarkable eyes gaze upon the bright visage,
Radiance.
I see from his saying that it is I,
Here I am.
Thus I sang to whoever was present,
Come.
One is indeed that which is from my neighbors,
Behold.
And one who speaks of what is enough for her,
So be it.
And after he approached desirously,
Within.
And the beauty which has essentially enchanted her,
Adorned.