Poem: The Dawn Defeats the Darkness
The poet Ibn Malek Al-Hamwi expresses:
The dawn has vanquished the harbingers of the dark,
And it has arrived under a white bandage.
And to you, I have revealed from its radiance a gleam,
That has brought joy and light.
The raven of night has receded, so fly towards,
The song of the nightingale, leaving behind the distant.
For the sun has illuminated from the horizons of its rise,
And it rises in its tent adorned with blessings.
And the breeze has become sweet and playful,
While the slender waists dance to the tune of the white dove.
And the branches of the pure trees sway,
As they lean gracefully like the prideful.
The spring has adorned the earth in a silk robe,
Woven by the hands of fortune.
The faces of the daisies have bloomed upon the hills,
And they smiled like pearls glistening with dew.
And the garden is between praise and adornment,
And fragrant, wafting through the ambience.
Poem: Good Morning
By the poet Muhammad Rashid Nasser Dhawq:
Good morning, my moon of roses,
And the scent of musk and amber.
Though age may continue, my love,
Your beauty remains mesmerizing.
A enchantress in your twenties,
And your younger sister has appeared.
Morning of flowers and joy,
Whispers of words and soft murmurs,
Today I yearn for yesterday,
And your sweet lips, like sugar.
In your eyes, there are secrets,
And temptations draw me to sail.
Your morning is a flower unfurling,
Your cheeks are like apples,
Your face embodies all joy,
My pens and cups sing your greeting.
Your existence is the light of my mornings,
And your steps grow larger,
For your spirit is my balm,
And your beauty is resplendent.
I feel your warm fragrance,
As the red flowers bloom.
Morning of light and incense,
A blaze in your green boughs.
Between lips and heart,
And the longing for written words,
And the music that enchants.
Come today and visit me,
So I may melt in your embrace,
Call my name and hold me,
To your eyes, that I may linger.
Like a pearl from the east,
Is this dawn that follows dusk.
Come, like a breeze of passion,
To heal my gritty wounds.
Poem: The Dawn Rises from Your Lips
By the poet Ayman Al-Labadi:
The dawn rises upon your lips,
Crafting its sole exquisite sentence.
And the night shows no threat,
No thorn to pierce the wall,
No beast to invent the siege,
No doubt to blanket the cuff.
Thus the steeds gallop,
And all beauty lies within your hand.
The dawn rises upon your lips.
Let it perish there if it shall dismount at the end,
And let the blend fade into the frames.
Take from life the beacon,
Both of us captured by its glow since the start,
With a mouth resembling the slaughtered asking,
And a fever of love with you.
Does longing tire the meeting if it staggers in space?
If it settles from absence on the veil?
And if it persists in solitude like an entangled wound?
From a journey among the seagulls was a glance in the eyeliners,
And a potential in the phases,
The tale was written in your blood.
The dawn rises upon your lips…
Do not silence in fear of the slopes,
And do not tear the reflections in the mirrors of doubt.
The entrance is merely for an open wound,
If you forsake what breathes under the veil,
Remember, the answer, if prolonged,
Was part of a tangled question.
The dawn rises upon your lips…
O sea, the unique arena,
Since it had shores as an aim,
What force drove you away?
There is no temptation in the light,
So allow what has been violated to rest.
The dawn rises upon your lips….
Keep it where it wanted, ignited by madness,
Provoking laughter beyond the idle love.
Memories linger with stones,
Leave them present as a flicker of unique love,
And an orchestra of relentless magic,
And a yard of slow steps,
With promise from those who belong.
The dawn rises upon your lips…
Poem: Good Morning, My Love
By the poet Sabah Al-Hakim:
Good morning, my love,
Morning of pulse within my heart.
Morning of almonds and apples,
And the fragrant aroma of our affection.
And the pure breezes
From the beloved, like daybreak.
It has come in nights of sorrow,
So let me rejoice and intoxicate me.
The freshness of its face, my melodies,
By the voice of love it called me.
A call that lingered with mint,
And a perfume that vanished within my ribs.
Thus the nightingale of my heart sang,
The melody flowed in my breath.
Every string longed for,
As the essence of jasmine and cups,
And the light of honey captivated me.
A sparkle swayed in my breast,
Caressing every branch,
With the warmth of its sweet song.
Upon my heart, its lights shimmer,
A fragrant wave of tenderness.
All my sorrows faded,
While it gifted me with the arts of love and loyalty.
Then the bird of my longings sings,
Illuminating the night of my beloved’s eyes.
Thus all my veins took their course,
And my waves to the harbor
That resides in my heart.
It serenades with melodies poured upon my lips,
And the streams of our joys flow like a waterfall.
So ignite me, the echo of the tune,
In the mornings and evenings.
By God, I am crucified,
And in my essence, I abide every moment.
And I navigate through your steps,
And silence the yearnings in my heart.
I am led by its wave,
To the extent of a maze.
I am thirsty for joy,
While I live on my grief.
I came to you above groans,
Grievances hum calling me.
Take me, my beloved,
And cleanse me from sorrows,
To make me feel, after deprivation,
Like a bird fluttering within the realms of existence.
And let your lips find solace on mine,
To whisper to the flowers and trees,
Like the bayous.
Poem: I Will Praise This Morning
By the poet Mahmoud Darwish:
I will praise this new morning,
I will forget the nights, all the nights,
And I will walk to the neighbor’s rose,
Snatch its happiness in joy.
I will pluck the fruit of light from a standing tree,
I shall have time to hear the wedding’s tune on the feathers of this dove.
Peace be upon everything… Streets are like people standing between two days,
The earth possesses nothing but the birds that soared above the surface of song,
And the bird owns nothing but the hanging space above the treetops.
Peace upon those who sleep, who hold time to read…
And peace to the weary souls.
In such a strong morning, will you tell me: I will return to my mother’s house?
In such a morning, do you return my heart on a plate of paper?
Poem: This Morning is the Morning of Gray Hair
By Ibn Zamrak:
This morning is indeed the morning of gray hair,
It used to be night but has now brightened at dawn.
Time has two colors, one of light and another of dusk,
This one punishes that one whenever it departs.
And this hue has made its descendants their adversary,
When life’s domain loosens and expands.
What one can deny from the light’s clarity at dusk?
If not for the longings of the soul kept in check,
If you see the gray lightning smiling,
On the very top where the living has darkened.
A meeting of respectful acknowledgment to the gray hairs,
For he who has prepared good deeds has succeeded.
But as for me, I have not ceased reasoning,
In the gentle breeze sadness has caressed me.
And when the lightning struck in darkness smiling,
From the side of the hill, only tears fell.
What of the gray haired one with respect to this issue?
After he was blamed for matters of love and has endured the consequences.
My loyalty prevents me from heeding those who blame me,
And to obey my critics who tricked me or counseled me.
O dwellers of Najd, may the rain enhance your pastures,
With rain that satisfies the thirsty soils.
What else can the heart find when a southern wind blows?
It gifts its breath, bringing forth longings.
How pleasant is a breeze from your land that breezes in,
And how delightful is a fragrance born from your abode?
O neighbors, known are the living’s generosity,
How would it harm anyone to withhold kindness but if they allowed it?
I haven’t sensed a flash from an oppressive atmosphere,
Except I had became charred in the flame of longing.
In God’s memory, my heart has no ailment,
For every closeness has seemed to suddenly vanish.
How many nights did darkness frighten the timid heart,
And they never ceased in their plight?
I traversed them, and stars illuminated the horizon,
Glistening jewels while the seas of night overflowed.
With the swimming light guiding me at night through its glow,
While the full moon glided in the depths of darkness.
And the clouds sprinkled pearls of tears from fear,
And the atmosphere sheds the lightning of the night.
My ambition hasn’t reached position with effort,
Except I’ve attained from the days the proposals.
And I have not passed the cups of determination gathered,
Except acquitting the cups of nobility in the morning.
And all that I have achieved in hope,
Is like the illusion that faded, then vanished.
How much toil can one endure without knowing their fate?
Isn’t every soul recompensed for their labor?
Oh my youth, how much of its essence has been squandered?
For every joy has returned to me as grief.
Weren’t the days that have passed for us,
Residences where we have experienced some joy?
Indeed, towards God, how we are favored with repentance,
Even if the heart aspires to achieve the guidance.
The truth is revealed, and salvation is near,
And the matter is for God; the outcome is for the righteous.
Alas for the soul that has become negligent of its guidance,
While its gaze wanders in the reins of misguidance.
It longs for relief but treads no path,
For the one who sells righteousness for misguidance rarely profits.
O Lord, your forgiveness is sought by every sinner,
For You are the most generous in pardoning and forgiving.
O Lord, I seek no other means for salvation,
Except through Your Messenger and the kindness You have granted.
For whenever I have sought care from adversity,
I have found the kindness of mercy always awaiting.