Poem of Hope’s Dawn
- The poet Abdulrahman Al-Ashmawi states:
The veil of the night will surely be lifted,
And the dawn will water its expanse with morning light.
The dawn shall reveal what was hidden,
And open a door that was once sealed.
The birds of desire will sing once more after their silence,
And the raven shall cast off its cloak of gloom.
It will be freed from the meaning of despair,
With a language born of love in its discourse.
Despair exists only in fragile souls,
Veiled by a heavy shroud of hopelessness.
I say to those who have strayed from their path,
And whose resolve dissolves in times of trouble:
The crescent moon shall grant us its fullness,
And a comet will open a door in the dark.
The trees of loyalty will blossom, shedding
Their peels, while only the patient will grasp the heart within.
The land of love will flourish after its barrenness,
And clouds will replenish it after drought.
We will ascend, and keep ascending, for
We are guided by tradition and scripture.
We have the noble Kaaba and the mosque that
Was built by the chosen Prophet and his companions.
We have Al-Aqsa Mosque and the rock around which
Monkeys and wolves roam.
Three pillars of beauty have come together,
And their greatness fills the world.
Inspired by divine guidance, they have prospered,
To the delight of the possessors of certainty.
If history is asked about the secret of its glory,
We are the answer to that inquiry.
And the night is but the herald of dawn to follow,
When the sun rises, clarity will prevail.
Poem of the Gift of Hope
- The poet Mahmoud Darwish expresses:
Whenever he pondered on hope, it was met with weariness and ennui.
He invented an illusion and queried: By what scale shall I weigh
This mirage? He rifled through his drawers, searching for someone who had
Faced this question before, but he found no drafts.
His heart was quick to suffer and reckless,
No documents to prove he stood
In the rain for no reason, and every time he thought of hope,
The gap widened between a burdened body and a wise heart,
No longer repeating the question: Who am I? So alienated
From the scent of lilies and the loud music of neighbors.
Opening the window to what remains of the horizon, he saw
Two kittens playing with a puppy on the narrow street,
A dove building a nest in the chimney, and he exclaimed:
Hope is not merely the opposite of despair; perhaps it is the faith
That stems from the indifference of gods towards us … they have left us
To rely on our own talents to interpret
The fog. And he stated: Hope is neither substance nor
Idea. It’s a gift that takes a pill for high blood pressure,
Forgetting the question of hope,
And sensing a vague relief from an unknown source.
Poem of the Bird of Wishes
- The poet Ahmad Matar conveys:
If I had but one moment left,
I would cherish it to the fullest,
Enthralled, I would hold it close,
Thanking the one who bestowed it upon me.
I would empty from my memories
What would allow oblivion to forget it.
I would live it as if
It were the sweetest and most precious of moments in life.
Should it dawn,
Experiencing it would uplift the heart of its bearer.
And if twilight falls,
It would provoke her sorrow.
If I had but a single word left,
I would fill it with the world around me,
And raise its voice,
As if no ears were created without it.
When it blossoms,
It would extend for all tastes
The nectar of its tune
And the magic of its silent universe,
Tickling their breaths with its essence.
And if it withers,
It suffices that it leaves for people
In the seed the likeness of itself.
With a fleeting moment of desire
And a word from me,
I will soar above the world,
Embracing its charm and brilliance,
When my fate approaches,
It will bear nothing but the remains of wishes.
Poem of Optimism
- The poet Ahmad Matar writes:
A being knocked on my door, bearing the shackles of servitude,
Repulsive,
With contagion in its mouth
And a death notice in its hand.
In its eyes lay a threat,
Its head between its legs,
Its feet stained with blood,
And its arms oozing with pus.
It said: I have news for you.
I replied: Good news, I hope?!
It answered: Record this:
Your past sorrow will become mere memory,
Replaced by profound despair.
If you reside in a rental place,
You will no longer pay rent.
They will grant you a house
With iron bars.
It can no longer endure your sudden death,
It is a certainty.
The power of faith within you shall increase,
You will be saved from the fire,
For no martyr enters into the flames.
Rejoice,
Being gathered with the sheep is a celebration.
I said: What is this talk?!
The years of sorrow have passed, this is a time of benevolence.
It is the year of peace.
The being sneezed in its beard
And replied: Foolish.
I said: Who are you?!
And what do you perhaps want from me?!
It said: Absolutely nothing,
For I am the new year!
Poem of the Song of Joy
- The poet Ghada Al-Samman expresses:
This morning, I will wash my face dozens of times,
And I will smile a bright smile,
Like the dawn in which I first knew you.
I will recite verses of optimism
And sing songs of joy
That I learned from you.
I will shed the darkness of the past days
And dance to the rhythms of your words
Playing upon the strings of my heart.
Then I’ll sip my coffee,
Without adding any more sugar,
For the sweetness of yesterday grants me exquisite delight.
In the hustle and bustle of the road,
I will search for you in every face.
Whenever I miss you,
I will pull your image from my heart’s embrace
And gaze at it longingly,
Then tuck it back between my ribs.
And if I hear your voice calling out to me,
I will rejoice immensely until I tremble,
Until my blood dances in my veins.
And like every maiden, my shyness will prevent me from saying I love you,
While I resolve within myself to say it,
Opening the way for that inevitable meeting.
In the evening, when the sunset gathers us,
In our mythical oasis,
I will run through the valleys and coral hills,
I will let my braids flow freely behind me, calling forth madness,
And when fatigue catches up to me, I will return to you,
Relaxing by the stream,
Upon a shining green carpet,
With my head resting on your warm arms,
Like a small child seeking refuge at his mother’s end.
I will listen to tales of mint
And the warmth of winter by the fireplace.
And when drowsiness overcomes me,
Forgive me, my beloved.
Then,
Do not forget to wrap me in a warm kiss.
Poetic Excerpts on Hope and Optimism
- As stated by Ibn Al-Rumi:
My hope lies in the strength of my despair,
And thus my heart remains patient.
He is the benefactor, kind to me,
While I am the one hoping for him and grateful.
His glance reveals to me the truth of his heart,
One day I will be capable of it.
- As noted by Al-Shafi’i:
My ambition is that of kings, and my spirit,
A free soul that sees humiliation as disbelief.
Should I live, I shall not lack for sustenance,
And in death, I shall not lack for a grave.
If I am content with the sustenance of my life,
Then why should I visit Zayd and Amr?
- As expressed by Ali bin Al-Jahm:
O one who releases hope
Without your own hopes being fulfilled.
How much has the world worn out, and how much has it renewed,
While calamities wear and consume us.
What a beauty it is to be patient, especially
In times of struggle for the free, when circumstances are harsh.
- As stated by Maknaf bin Ma’awiya:
You see a person hoping to be seen,
And outside that is the certainty of death.
And how many despairing souls have found hope,
And the ambitious have found the dawn of hope.