Martyrdom
A martyr is an individual who sacrifices their soul, self, and life to promote the glory of Almighty God and elevate the status of His religion. A martyr stands against oppression and subjugation, choosing death over humiliation. Such a noble being forges glory, dignity, and history. God has prepared a great reward for martyrs, elevating their rank and status. Martyrdom is an honor bestowed only upon those whose intentions are pure for God, free from hypocrisy. In this article, we will present some of the most beautiful poems composed by renowned poets in honor of martyrs.
Poem of the Martyr
The poem “The Martyr” is by the poet Abdul Rahim Mahmoud, who was born in 1913 in the town of Anabta in Tulkarm, Palestine. He studied at the famous al-Najah School and later taught Arabic there. With the outbreak of the revolution in 1963, Abdul Rahim Mahmoud joined the fighters, abandoning his teaching career to compose verses encouraging resistance until he was martyred in the Battle of Al-Shajara in 1948. He is fondly remembered as the Palestinian martyr poet. His poem includes the following lines:
Upon my palms I shall carry my soul
And cast it into the depths of demise
Either a life that delights my friend
Or a death that grieves my enemies
The noble soul has two goals
The bloom of death and the attainment of aspiration
What is life? I would not live without
Fearing danger, forbidden in safe havens
When I speak, the world listens to me
And my words resound among people
By your life, I foresee my demise
Yet I swiftly move towards it
I see my demise without my rightful share
And beyond my homeland is the desired goal
It delights my ears to hear the clash
And brings joy to my soul, the flow of blood
A body that sprawls upon the hills
It is pounced upon by the relentless wild
Some of it is for the lion of the sky
And some is for the lion of the earth
He stained the ground with his life’s red
And filled the breeze with fragrance
A dust that increases the splendor
And a smile emerged upon his lips
Signifying the absurdity of life’s struggles
And resting to dream of immortality
Indeed this is the death of men
And for one who seeks a noble death
How shall I endure the enmity of the malicious?
And how shall I withstand the burden of harm
Fearing that life is trivial to me
And that humiliation is not for the proud
With my heart, I shall face my foes
For my heart is iron, and my fire relentless
And I shall protect my territory with the sword
So my people know that I am the young man
Martyrs of Freedom
The poem “Martyrs of Freedom” is by the poet Badr Shakir al-Sayyab, who was born in 1925 in the village of Jikur in the Basra Governorate. Al-Sayyab is known for his printed works, including “Shanashil Daughter of the Jalabi,” “Withering Flowers,” and “The Drowning Temple.” His manuscript works include “Roar of the Storm” and “The Minor Resurrection.” In his poignant poem “Martyrs of Freedom,” he writes:
A martyr of excellence will not hear the lament of his mourners
Nor see the tears of those who might reproach him
He has been taken by fate, for the world is a grave of glory
Its east is enshrouded in darkness, and its west is bare
A youth who led the children of struggle to greatness
He shattered the enemy’s might, scattering his troops
A young man whose only desire is to reach honor
And soon every oppressor will face his wrath
A youth who knows foes through the sharpness of his sword
He secured a tremendous victory at his battleground
A youth who bore no blame except for lifting
His sword against injustice, refusing to yield
When they mentioned Younis in the battle array
Death marched towards the enemies, the red of their blood
He sold three souls to the Arabs for the sake of dignity
Yet my tears cannot cease from flowing
Oh, how sorrowful is the parting from loved ones
For Younis, let the tears flow
Oh how a falcon’s wings have been clipped
And how the horizon of Iraq is filled with tribulation
Alas, they buried the body of Mahmoud in the soil
But they did not bury the glory he inherited
And I mourn for my understanding of his trials
It is trivial, even when his passions are ignited
A martyr witnessed tyranny invading his homeland
So he rose to rally the brave to combat it
Is it just to hang one who protects the homeland with his sword?
And not to claim the rewards of high status?
Men, he vowed to the Almighty
To sacrifice until the truth returns to its rightful owner
They shed their blood against the British oppressors
So woe unto them from the one who fears their ambitions
They shed their blood against the British oppressors
But who is it that seeks revenge from the one who deserves it?
They shed the blood of the British informant
But in Berlin, a lion watches over them
Oh Rashid, yes, you are a leader for a nation
That crumbles under the hands of Abdul Ilah and his friends
Indeed, you are the true leader who awoke from sleep
And challenged an era that brought forth its calamities.
The Poetry of Martyrs
The “Poetry of Martyrs” is by the poet Adel Naif al-Baaini, a Lebanese-Syrian writer, linguist, and journalist. He holds a degree in Arabic literature and a diploma in pedagogical training. He teaches Arabic literature and has authored several works, including “A Whisper Above the Banks of Light” and “Guide to Composition and Expression.” His poem goes as follows:
O knight, who occupies the throne of excellence
The mountains fall silent before your resolution
You subdued your love for life with dedication
And willingly left your homeland in pursuit
Your wounds craved greatness, and you quenched them
With nobility and glory that fill the cup of martyrdom
You strove for honor to knock upon its door
The door of martyrdom is the finest to seek
And when dignity, nobility, and sacrifice come
A laurel crown rests upon your head
Who, like a martyr, has refined their ethics?
This is his call to the sublime; let them listen
Why are you, O homeland of the Arabs, silent?
As your people’s bonds are severed by the day
Saddle your horses; it’s time to stop hesitating
Be like the martyr, for he has risen
The land has long cried for martyrdom
And it shall always seek the martyrs to rise
Hady and Wajdi run with a blazing torch
And the brilliance of a star now descends
Greet the martyr and kiss his eyelids
And let the roses fall upon his wounds
Do not bury him; let him remain in his exaltation
A flag shining with the light of his ancestors
A glorious martyr, as we witnessed his union
Let there be no tears, for it is selfish to cry
Let the mother of the martyr rejoice and celebrate
For today, the feasts of the world converge
Do not distress him with your tears, for he
Wishes to be celebrated, not mourned
O knight who freely gave your life
You are blessed, lion of lofty values
Your blood is the beacon that guides
The ships of redemption across the seas
Rest upon the celestial sphere in glory
Like the sun, proud and radiant in its journey.
In Gratitude to the Martyrs
The poet Ahmed Shawqi, known as Ahmed ibn Ali ibn Ahmed Shawqi, is one of the most famous poets of the modern era. He was born and died in Cairo, excelling in various poetic forms, including description, romance, praise, elegy, and commentary on social and political events. He is often referred to as the “Prince of Poets.” In his poem “I Thank You in the Graves of Martyrs,” he expresses:
I thank you in the graves of martyrs
And I sing your praise with the living
If within those skulls there are tongues
That do not wither, they are salutes and prayers
Or if the good deeds blossom from the earth
Let them grow, therein are praises and commendations
You held the orphans’ tears and the widows’
As they moved to the cheerful villages
And all say, every sorrowful one in her chamber
“The tyrants have passed; the merciful have come.”
So who is the herald of bones buried
Wrapped and surrounded by decay and dust?
Fate has hastened their demise nearing its end
For life or death is all a decree
What past, the misery of the Bousous and its misfortune
Has revived the criticisms of their era
Soul escaped in pursuit of peace
As you, O strangers, stormed in upon them
Defending felt disgrace and cowardice
If only women were firm in those days
They swiftly guarded all fearless
Alas! The just and powerful won the battle swiftly
Prisons in the evening filled with those locked away
If only they shifted towards the oppression
And felt pity for their own people
But hurdles in a quest for power
That betrayed all around them akin from dirt
Whispers these deeds separate us among themselves
And how insidious is the act of the leaders
Every hand that has lost feels resentful in the blood
Thus, every misfortune cast upon their spirit
For those who care for one another, bear witness
If the chains are considered burdensome for the friends
The compassion for those falling, becomes their salvation
The light of forgiveness shines from those causing pain
Lord, for you let us experience the sweetness of life!
Thus, let go of any remnant of bitterness and strife