Short Love Poems

Poem: A Call to Love

The poet Ibn Rawaha Al-Hamawi expresses in his poem a heartfelt invitation to love:

In the echoes, my heart is beckoned towards love,

and I recall the verses reminding me to shun affection.

How shall I endure its absence if it were my listener

with the sweet melodies of enchanting voices I hear?

Poem: The Teacher of Love

Mubarak bin Hamad Al-Aqeeli conveys in his verse the lessons learned about love:

Who taught my heart to cherish the fleeting shaden,

leaving me lost in love without guidance?

My eyes have guided my heart, having seen a moon,

so does my heart wander, is there a guide for it?

Poem: Increase My Bewilderment in Love

In the poignant lines of Ibn Al-Farid, we find a plea:

Amplify my overwhelming love for you,

and have mercy on a heart that burns with your passion.

If I ask to see your true essence,

permit me, and do not respond with, “You shall not see.”

O heart! You promised me patience in their love,

be wary lest you grow restless and distressed.

For love is life; die of it if you must,

it is your right to perish and be excused.

Tell those who came before me and those after,

and those who see my yearning,

“Take from me, and let my experience guide you,”

and convey my longing among people.

Poem: I Am Faithful in Love

The poet Mahmoud Sami Al-Baroudi asserts his loyalty in love:

I am steadfast in love,

with no knowledge of betrayal.

Do not think ill of me,

for some suspicions are sinful.

Poem: I Love You

The renowned poet Nizar Qabbani expresses powerful emotions in his poem:

I love you until my light dims,

with eyes as vast as the sky.

Until I fade away, vein by vein,

lost in the depths of a chestnut embrace.

Until I feel that you become a part of me,

and part of my thoughts, and part of my blood.

I love you in a trance that never awakens,

I am thirsty, yearning for satisfaction.

I am a crease in the folds of a shirt,

where my pride is revealed with the slightest tremors.

I – by your grace – you are everything to me.

We are the spring’s spring, the gift of the gift.

I love you; do not ask me for a premise,

I have been wounded by the suns in my claims.

If I love you, my soul loves,

for we are music and the echo of music.

Poem: Love Does Not Silence Us

The immortal poet Al-Mutanabbi reflects on communication in love:

Love does not silence the tongues,

and the sweetest complaint of a lover is that which we voice.

Would that the beloved, in their farewells, veer away from slumber,

without transgression, may our union continue.

If you had embraced us, you would not perceive

our colors intermingled with the hues of our sadness.

As our breaths ignited, as I feared,

that the reproachful would catch fire between us.

I would sacrifice for the one I longed for,

whose fleeting glance filled me with longing.

Poem: Love Teaches Me Not to Love

The poet Mahmoud Darwish contemplates the lessons of love:

Love teaches me not to love and to open the window

to the path. Can you exit the call of the basil,

and divide me into two: you and what remains of the song?

And love is love; in every love, I see death from a previous death,

a breeze that returns to push the steeds back to their mothers, the wind between clouds and valleys.

Can you not exit the buzzing of my blood so I may tame this desire?

And pull the bees from the petals of the blooming rose?

And love is love, questioning me: How did the wine return home and ignite?

And how sweet is love when it torments, when it lays waste to the essence of the song?

Love teaches me not to love, and it leaves me adrift among the leaves.

Poem: Fire of Love in My Heart

The poet Abu Nuwas laments in his verses:

You sparked the fire of love in my heart,

and then you distanced yourself from the guilt.

Until I plunged into the sea of passion,

while the waves flooded my heart.

I unveiled my secret while you forgot me,

this is not justice, my love.

O love, I cannot repel desire,

do you not fear the Divine’s wrath?

Poem: Love Has Died in My City

Farouk Goweida captures the despair of lost love in his city:

Our breaths intertwined,

and a tear of yearning flowed between our ribs.

The night was like a jailer,

slapping us while laughing behind our backs.

Silence was a haunted house where ghosts cried around us,

and on your hands, the remains of a frail child lay.

Such is fate, my beloved,

that the poor become a wound between us.

We came to you, my city,

to bury our love.

Have mercy on this child,

the grave of my city.

I am but part of this child; my age is his.

For he carries the dream of my beginnings,

and the despair of my ends.

Have mercy on this child, the grave of my city.

Have mercy on this child.

O grave of the city,

you gather the remnants of the beloved,

and drown in tears.

We still gasp amid life’s sorrows,

seeking candles.

And there, the candles suffocate.

Have mercy on the tears of the people, grave of my city.

Have mercy on the tears of the people,

amidst the living dead’s cries,

echoing in the silence of the night.

In every part of its streets,

there are wounds or sins or madness.

Have mercy on the people’s tears, O time of madness.

Poem: O Love, Blend with the Heart

The poet Hafiz Ibrahim passionately writes:

O love! Blend with the heart,

for in love, there is the life of souls.

Unroll a life from the right of fate,

as the shadows call it nearer.

Poem: No Love Except Where It Resides

The poet Ibrahim Nagy eloquently states:

There is no love except where it resides, and I see

no other homeland or abode for me.

My homeland, through endless nights, is its dwelling,

no matter how far it strays, my love follows.

When the earth embraces us, it is populated,

each moment vibrant and alive.

There is no difference between its north and south,

for both bear greetings for my heart.

They both guard my promise, and seldom

time preserves two hearts in longing.

If I weep, it is in fear

that our love might merely be dreams.

And perhaps I feared separation, and I cried for it

before distance became a reality.

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