The Essence of Love
Greetings to the love that resides in our hearts, appearing distinct in our eyes amidst a world filled with fleeting souls. These hearts are what we yearn for—the luminous side of existence, akin to a moon or perhaps a guiding star that enlightens our path whenever our spirits begin to dim. Such loving hearts bring tranquility to our souls, piecing together the fragments we struggle to mend, expertly uprooting the sorrow that lies deep within us. Indeed, these are the hearts in love, and numerous poets have composed verses about the themes of love and passion.
On the Nature of Romance
Wallace Stevens was an American poet who depicted humanity as an immortal being devoid of hope for life after death. Born on October 2, 1879, he married Elsie Voila in 1909 and passed away on August 2, 1955. Stevens was noted for his unique writing style; despite the complexity of his meanings and his frequent use of difficult terminology, his poems were characterized by an extraordinary richness of language. His remarkable success came while he was also thriving in his career as an attorney and an executive in the insurance sector.
Night knows nothing of the hymns of evening.
It is what it is, just as I am who I am,
And in this realization, I must be aware of myself
And of you.
Only the two of us can exchange
The gifts we offer one another.
Only the two of us are one,
Neither you and the night, nor the night and I,
But you and I, alone,
In the depths of unity,
Separated yet transcending the ordinary isolates,
To where the night serves merely as the backdrop to our existence,
In utter honesty, each with our separate selves,
In the dim light one casts upon the other.
The River is Strange and You are My Beloved
Mahmoud Darwish is renowned as one of the most celebrated poets, crafting exquisite love, romantic, and nationalistic poetry. He is distinguished for his verses on revolution and homeland and served as the president of the Palestinian Writers and Journalists Association. Darwish also played a significant role in publishing the magazine “Al-Karmel,” and authored several collections that were recorded at the behest of Lebanese poet Robert Ghanem.
The river is strange, she said,
As she prepared to sing.
We did not explore the language of love, nor did we wander to the river aimlessly,
The night came from her veils,
Unlike any night before it, as I offered my blood to the prophets,
To let them die in our place,
While we remained an hour upon the strangers’ pavement,
And she readied herself to sing.
Alone in the moment of lovers, we are flowers on the water,
And feet upon the water.
Where shall we go?
To the gazelle, the wind, and the spear; I am the knife and the wound.
Where shall we go?
Here is beauty, fair liberty within my severed veins.
Your eyes and countries on the small window,
Oh little bird of fire, where shall we go?
To the gazelle, the wind, and the spear;
For the poet, a time comes that is higher than water and lower than the gallows’ ropes.
Oh bird of exile, where shall we go?
I did not bid you farewell, for I have parted from the earth’s surface now,
With you, it’s a perpetual meeting between farewells.
Here I bear witness that love resembles death,
It arrives when we do not expect love,
So do not wait for me.
The river is strange, she said,
And she prepared for travel.
The six directions know nothing of Jana but that the rain
Has not soaked her.
And they know of her only that I have changed,
Transformed by dew and trees,
And I enchanted Sinbad.
The river is strange, she said,
Here is the thing we have been silent about,
It has become a land.
Is this the earth we inhabit?
It has turned into a journey,
The river is strange, she said,
And she prepared to travel.
We do not enter the night passively,
Why does your body long for hair,
And for the lotus flower beyond my grave?
Why do you carry
With many eyes of martyrs?
Come closer to me, add one more
To my meager sustenance of the first moment,
And proceed towards my time and the crosses of others.
We do not enter the night in vain,
Oh you body that encapsulates the earth,
And you land that molds into a spiritual form,
Be mine to allow me to be.
Try to paint me as a moon
Descending, the night to the forests like horses.
Try to depict me as a stone
Carrying distances to my home like steeds.
So why do you carry
With many faces of martyrs?
Stay away from me, they become one nation in the unity.
Will you burn the wind in my side,
Or draw the sun?
Or will you take your own life?
This world taught me languages and lands other than what your eyes portray.
I understand nothing of you; I do not comprehend myself, Jana.
So do not wait for me.
The river is strange, she said,
And she prepared to weep.
She was neither more beautiful than the café servant,
Nor closer than my mother,
Yet the evening
Was a cat between her hands;
And the vast horizon came from the glass of the window,
A refugee in the shadow of her eyes.
And the strangers
Filled the shadow.
I will not tread to the river aimlessly.
Go into the dream, oh Jana;
Jana wept.
Time cast me upon an hour of water.
Go into the moment, oh Jana;
Jana wept.
And the dream was mere particles of air.
Go into the first joy, oh Jana;
Jana wept.
And the wound was the rose of martyrs.
Oh Jana,
You were not my city,
Nor my homeland,
Nor my time,
To stop the river that sweeps me away.
So why do you now invade my body,
To become the river or the lady of the river?
Why do you now depart from my body?
For your sake, I renewed my residence
Upon this land; I renewed my being.
Go into the dream, oh Jana;
Jana wept.
And the river became a belt around my waist
As the shape of the sky faded away.
Softer for the People of Faith than the Softness of His Heart
Al-Farazdaq was an Arab poet from the Umayyad era, hailing from Basra, known as Hamam ibn Ghalib ibn Sasa’a al-Darmiy al-Tamimi. He was born in 641 and passed away in 732. Our poet Al-Farazdaq gained fame for his poetry of praise, pride, and satire, having learned from his father Ghalib, who trained him in writing. The signs of youth and the poet’s affection became evident after he encountered Zamiya, showcasing an abundance of words and meanings in the domain of satire.
She gazes with her eyes towards the mountain where
The snow-covered peaks gleam white as pearls.
She persistently observes the shoreline, sorrowful,
Her radiant smile resting upon my weary camels.
Oh, if only I could visit the ladies,
With their delightful lounging and charming attire.
In a meadow fragrant with sweet herb,
Where the protective walls provide solace like the arms of comfort.
What if Omar feels there is no fear of his wrath,
If calamity befalls the people one day?
And no stone thrown at the people of the side
Would be like the one cast at the East or West?
He softens for the people of faith from the tenderness of his heart;
For them, his heart melts, yet he is harsh towards the hypocrites.
And none is honored except before a gathering,
Like his resolute stature standing firm before the crowd.
You gathered much good in what you’ve amassed,
Without treachery or the stunning girl adorned with jewels.
And no possessions of a dear friend who has erred
Would be a burden to himself from the forthcoming fates.
And yet, in your two hands is much that you have gathered
And in your soul, you have mastered the agreements.
Among the best of God’s servants after Muhammad,
He prayed to God for all creations.
May Allah make him the successor, who,
Upon the highest pulpit, addresses every speaker.
And may the sword of God be released from him and defend him.
His knights were behind the trenches.
He inspired them; thus, they came as if they were
Next to him, sheep uniquely following each whose voice they heed.
They met on the day of the camel’s slaughter when they came,
With swords shattering the skulls of the foes.
And would that he who appointed you, on the day you were appointed,
Would that he be loyal to the trust he holds.
For him, when he threw the reins and the chains,
The days came to you with allegations of the once-wounded.
And no one could mend the truths like you could mend,
Nor anyone bring together what was shattered by the ends of the earth.
But you restrained the people from following their desires
And returned, pleasing the eyes of every beautiful thing.
And you perceived those who came before you with the offerings
Of the weak ones, coming back rich from the hardships.