The Intoxication of Love
From the poems of Ibn al-Farid on love:
Love has intoxicated me, providing comfort to my eyes,
And my cup is my visage, adorned with beauty’s grace.
I deceived my companions into thinking that
Their sipping of wine concealed my secret in my ecstasy at her glance.
With my gaze, I found fulfillment without my drinking cup, and none
Caught my euphoria as I indulged in her charms.
In the hour of my intoxication, I expressed gratitude to the young men,
Through them, my love was concealed along with my renown.
And when my clarity faded, I sought her presence,
And my worries did not cloud me as I relaxed among her companions.
I revealed to her my inner turmoil, and there was no observer
In the solitude of my revelry.
And I declared, with longing evident in my state,
My infatuation evoked a profound sense of loss.
Hasten before love consumes the remnants of my yearning,
For I see in her an outlook similar to that of a vigilant watchman.
And if I cannot see you, it brings me despair, despite the pleasure
You granted others with your beauty’s enchantments.
Desire has left me impoverished, seeking relief,
For without love, my heart shall remain fractured.
If my affliction were as burdensome as mountains,
It would crumble beneath the weight of despair.
This longing, accompanied by tears, nurtured my torment,
It is as if the flood of Noah reflects my grief;
And the flames of my passion burn like the fires of Abraham.
If it were not for my sighs, my tears would drown me.
And if not for my tears, my sobs would consume me.
And my sorrow is akin to that suffered by Jacob
And every adversity is part of my affliction.
As for those who have fallen for the beauty of the verdant hills,
They are but a regard of what I endure from my first trials.
And in a moment, or perhaps less, who shall recount
The anguishes of my ailments that torment my body?
To remind me of my agony as I am torn apart by this hardship,
In the debris of life, as the camels are driven away.
And my affliction has plagued me until it has vanquished my essence.
Praise for my qualities resounds in praises toward me,
And I regretted, in my intoxication, my weakness observed.
Through the details of my life and my secret affairs,
I revealed a description of myself in a way that no one has seen,
Except for those who have endured similar heartaches of love.
She has unveiled what my tongue failed to express,
My thoughts have showcased their secrets upon her ears.
It breathes within her, offering a sight beyond ordinary sight.
Love has embraced me, outraged, and chastised me,
Rewarding my soul’s devotion with her gentle submission.
It is as if the noble scribes descended upon
My heart with revelations, written in my soul’s manuscript.
He knew neither my hidden thoughts nor the truth
Of what my heart holds, deeply concealed.
And unveiling my physical facade exposed the truth of what
Was hidden from my inner self.
I concealed my secret from him in privacy,
Fearful, from my weakness, of the unrelenting longing.
If he had only discerned it or felt the shadows of its realm,
Surely, it would have brought with it all wonders.
Your Essence Enraptures Me
From al-Hallaj’s poetry on love:
How strange it is to look at you and myself
Oh, dream of the seeker!
You drew me so near to you
That I thought you were me.
And I faded in longing until
You annihilated me through your essence.
Oh, my blessing in this life,
And my peace after my demise.
Without you, I find no refuge,
Only worry as my state of being.
Oh, one whose garden of meanings
Encompasses every yearning!
And if I long for anything,
You are my every desire.
The Sun and the Moon Cannot Shine Without Your Love
From the poems of al-Hallaj in Sufi romance:
By God, no sun has risen nor set,
Without your love intertwined with my breath.
And I have not secluded myself with any companions
Except that you are the center of my discourse.
I have not mentioned you, neither in sorrow nor joy,
Without you residing in my heart, a constant whisper.
And when I thirst, I do not sip water
Without seeing your likeness within the cup.
If I could approach, I would strive to your presence,
Either walking upon the ground or treading upside down.
And if the youth of the neighborhood sing for me joyfully,
Then let your heart play the tune that pierces the soul.
Why should I care about the opinions of the masses?
My religion belongs to my soul; other conventions hold little sway.
My Heart Whispers Your Name
From Ibn al-Farid’s verses on Sufi love:
My heart tells me that you are my destruction,
My soul is a sacrifice for you, whether known or unknown.
I have not fulfilled the rights of your love; if I were the one
Who could pay it, I would be either joyful or grieved.
What I offer is only my spirit, and the one who gives his essence
In love is never wasteful.
If you accept this devotion, you have bestowed upon me
Rejection of hope if you do not.
You are the one hindering sweet repose and granting me,
The garment of suffering, with my profound longing.
Out of kindness to my frailty and the remnant of my body,
And my weary heart.
Longing remains, while union lingers,
And patience is fleeting, with meetings continually postponed.
I am not free from envy regarding you; so do not diminish
My sleepless nights with distorted visions.
I ask the stars of the night: have they visited
Me, and how can they visit the unknown?
It is not surprising—when their eyes are closed tightly—
If my own weep freely in release.
And in the farewell’s context, I witnessed the agony
Of departure; if there is no reunion with you, promise me,
And trade me delay for eventual fulfillment.
From you, the patience I endure is sweet like a lover’s embrace.
I yearn for the soft breaths of the zephyrs
And for the face of the one who carries fragrance—the one I adore.
Perhaps the fire within me, fueled by this longing,
Shall extinguish, yet I wish it never would.
You, dear lovers, are my hopes, and you—
Oh, the friends of my affection!
Return to what you were before in fidelity,
For I am that loyal friend.
I swear by your lives, my life, that without you,
I have not pledged.
If my soul were within my grasp to offer to the heralds
Of your arrival, I would still lack balance.
Do not think I am insincere in my yearning—
I am devoted to you without the pretense.
I concealed my love, but love overwhelmed me.
It neared the truth, almost causing me to vanish.
And I guarded it from myself; had I revealed it,
It would have been more concealed than hidden gentleness.
Indeed, I have given advice to those who seek passion:
You are exposing yourself to misfortune, so be wise.
You are the slain by the one you love—
Select your beloved with care in the realm of the heart.
Tell the critic, my reproach has lingered unduly,
For blame is a hindrance against love’s call.
Cease your reprimands and taste love’s sweetness;
If you fall for love, then scold me only thereafter.
Love has burst forth from the shadows of those who, in the night,
Unmask the mystery, I could say, “Oh, glorious moon, retreat!”