Wisdom Verses of Al-Mutanabbi
Poem: “A Breakdown of Insomnia and Similar Struggles”
- Al-Mutanabbi says:
Insomnia follows insomnia, and one like me cannot rest,
Longing increases, and tears flow persistently.
It’s a struggle of love to appear as I see,
With weary eyes and a heart that beats rapidly.
Whenever lightning flashes or a bird sings,
I turn, with a heart enchanted.
I have tasted the fire of love, which never extinguishes,
A blaze of passion that surpasses fiery pain.
I blamed those in love until I experienced it,
And I marveled at how one can die without love.
I excused them and recognized my guilt when I
Substituted blame for compassion and faced similar trials.
O my kin, we belong to dwellings
Where the raven of separation forever croaks.
We mourn for this world, though not a single group
Has gathered in this life without separating.
Where are the great emperors who,
Having hoarded treasures, have neither remained.
From everyone who has limited space within their armies,
Ultimately, all lie in a constricted grave.
Mutely they are summoned, as if they did not know
That speech is permissible for them at all times.
For death approaches, and souls are treasures,
And the fool takes pride in what he possesses.
A man hopes, while life is tempting,
And old age weighs heavy while youthful spirits are vibrant.
I have wept for youth, now faded,
My hair darkened, and the radiance of my face remains lost.
Guarding it against the day of farewell,
Until my own tears nearly caused the dawn to break.
As for the sons of Aws ibn Ma’n ibn Al-Rida,
The most esteemed of whom the noble horses are led.
I declared my lamentation around their abode when it appeared,
From which the suns arise, though the east is absent.
I admired land whose clouds shelter them,
Above it, where the rocks do not sprout leaves.
And the fragrance of their praises wafts through,
Enveloping each position, as they are inhaled.
Like the musk-scented breeze, yet
Wildness prevails in the absence of others.
I seek one akin to Muhammad in our era,
Please do not burden us with seeking what cannot be reached.
The Merciful has not created a second Muhammad,
In my opinion, none shall ever compare.
O bestower of abundance, who possesses,
Why should I hope to gain from you through taking?
Shower me with the clouds of your generosity abundantly,
And look upon me with mercy so that I do not drown.
The one who claims in ignorance has lied,
The noble have perished, yet you remain alive, being nourished.
Poem: “If You Dare to Seek Esteemed Honor”
- Al-Mutanabbi says:
If you dare to seek esteemed honor,
Then do not settle for anything less than the stars.
For the taste of death in ignoble affairs,
Is no different than the taste of death in monumental matters.
You will lament with the whinnying of my horse and stallion,
The tears of their blood is akin to the water of bodies.
We shared fire, then grew amidst it,
As maidens flourished within delight.
And we departed from the ignoble paths,
Though their hands carried many wounds.
The cowards think that cowardice is wisdom,
Yet that is a deceit of base nature.
And every act of bravery enriches a man,
For there is none like the bravery of the wise.
How often a critic has condemned a righteous utterance,
His ailment stemming from a flawed understanding.
However, attentive ears receive from it,
According to the capacity of each intellect and wisdom.
Poem: “No Pride Except for Those Who Are Not Wronged”
- Al-Mutanabbi says:
No pride exists except for those who are not wronged,
Those who are aware or warriors who do not sleep.
It is not resolve what diminishes a man’s worth,
Nor is it despair what darkness blocks.
And bearing affliction while seeing the wrongdoers
Is nourishment that withers the bodies.
Humbled is he who envies the lowly
For there is a life that is lighter than the weight of a corpse.
Every dream that comes without fortitude,
Is but an excuse, leading the lowly to safety.
Whoever is humiliated, humiliation is easy for him,
Nobody feels the wound of the dead.
He who is confined by calamities is yet noble,
Even if his poverty weighs upon me.
Underneath the greatest lowering of status,
I remain beneath the noblest of humans.
The loftiness of my situation is more pleasant than scorching pain,
And my aspiration remains noble, free from injustice.
Beyond the Arabian Peninsula and the Nejd,
And the two Iraqs, pursuing a noble aim.
Desiring to rise against the dust if the sun sets,
With the voice of Al-Sayyal—an esteemed poet,
The cultured gentleman, the courageous and quick-witted,
Who dares contend with adversity with his words, defeating his foes.
He seeks treatment from abundance with charity,
By being generous as if his wealth is ample.
Grain-heavy in the eyes of his foes; yet,
“Generous was this guest,” say the brutes.
If a protector shields a prince from death,
Honor him through reverence and esteem.
And allure shines brightly while its religion is intact,
Yet the clothing of honor is humility.
It is recorded in the pages of glory: “In the name of…”
Then came Qays, and peace follows Qays.
Indeed, Murrah ibn Awf fils of Sa’d
Is a flame that the ostriches prefer to avoid.
Its night is day and its morning is hell. The smoke is a vast cloud.
Endeavors of excellence have reached your ranks,
And made the improbability of perceptions rescind.
And if souls charge into combat,
They vanish before unwavering bravery.
And hearts firmly resolute for confrontations,
As if their rush is a sign of surrender.
Every commander of a charge and horse,
Was fashioned by igniting ambition and purpose.
They stumble by their heads as if they passed
Through the barriers of linguistic chaos.
How long did your distaste linger until,
What I say can be accomplished, as a sword of strength?
And the plates of steel shielded you from the masses,
Until they have outgrown parchments.
And it has made your experiences sublime,
Through choices born from divine influence.
A knight who engages in your valor,
With rapid blows that hold no reproach.
A being who receives a glance from you,
As fate may grant him abundance against his own poverty.
The finest of our limbs is the head, yet,
It has exceeded them all as you pursue.
I, indeed, have curtailed what I owed you, while gifts are abundant, each beckoning.
I fear if I became one of your circle, the common populace
May have found me unfavorable in their embraces.
Furthermore, timing did not allow me to visit you,
For distance has a way of clarifying early relations.
And from the good, the slowness of your provision towards me,
Is swifter than clouds in fleeting motion.
Say, how many jewels exist within your structure,
If only they were to blossom into discourse with you.
The night fears you and the day; if you should join them,
The days would not confine you.
GOD is enough, as you will not stray from the truth,
Nor will they lead you astray into fallacies.
Why do you not heed the consequences in worldly matters,
Is it not sacred for you?
How many beloveds are there, with no excuse for reproach,
Whom I trusted in the realms of devotion.
Your purity has elevated your worth beyond fault,
And steered your heart towards eminent endeavors.
Part of that poetry is nonsensical,
Some portions vague, while other insights dwell in commands.
Poem: “In Esteem and Nobility”
- Al-Mutanabbi says:
We count as esteemed and noble,
While death claims us without battle.
We bind the past, recalling events,
And seek safety from the storms of nights.
Those who have not cherished life dearly,
Yet, there’s no path to requital.
Your portion in life is that of a beloved,
And in dreams, it is but an illusion.
Time has bestowed upon me misfortunes until,
My heart lies shrouded in arrows.
So if I am struck by arrows,
The points break against one another.
And I grow indifferent to misfortunes,
For I have learned not to anguish.
And this is the first time mourning,
For the first death in such magnificence.
It’s as if death has not mourned for any soul,
And none thought of the existence of a being.
May Allah bless our Creator, this scent,
Upon the face, adorned with beauty.
Upon the buried, before the ground is covered,
And before the grave, in honor’s elegance.
For indeed, beneath the soil sits
The presence we recall, although departed.
Is it not suited that your demise,
Was yearned by the remnants and shadows?
And you have departed, nor have you witnessed,
A day filled with bitterness.
The essence of dignity rests above you,
And the reign of Ali is unparalleled.
May your resting place be imbued,
Now compared to the kindness of your hand in giving.
For he who sits beside the graves has respect,
Like the expressions of admiration for the horses.
From inquiry, I seek you, O nobility!
And I have no familiarity with glory apart from you.
He passes by your grave, who has found himself weeping,
And tears of sorrow seize him from inquiry.
And what you have offered for the wellbeing,
If only you had listened to deeds.
By your existence, do you have consolation? For my heart,
Even if I were to abandon your land no longer.
Thus you descend, where loathed is the path,
Far from tranquility and the north.
The scent of flowers veils you from sweet fragrances,
And prevents from reaching the essence of the dew.
In a place where every inhabitant seems strange,
Far from home, the strings of ties are severed.
A horse, akin to rainwater,
Silently maintains sincerity and truth.
Each reflects upon just grievance,
And those who differ echo advancements.
When they describe an ailment using words,
They quench it with long, sharp spears.
And unlike the females nor those
Whose tombs are counted as simplefronts.
No one has traders at their funerals,
Who would bid farewell like a dusting of shoes.
The lords walk around you only barefoot,
As if the sight itself dimmed from elegance.
Those chambers reveal hidden treasures,
They bear witness to the variety of guests.
The calamity has struck them, unaware,
While tears for the sorrow dwell in the spirit.
If women were placed alongside those lost,
They’d surely excel over their masculine counterparts.
And the gender of the sun holds no shame,
Nor indeed, is highlighting the crescent moon’s worth.
The most tragic loss amongst those lost is like what we found,
Before the loss itself reveals the likeness.
We bury one another, while the last among us,
Walks upon the necks of official positions.
And how many eyes of the one who bids farewell,
Stirred by the essence of sands.
And one’s mind was lost in thoughts.
To draw strength from the state, be resilient,
And how would one conduct themselves against mountains?
When you teach others solace,
And surge forth into battle amidst the clamor of death.
The aspects of time change for you continuously,
Yet your circumstances remain singularly theirs.
Keep your vast seas, O mighty being,
Against the oddities of misfortune and sudden events!
I have seen you amongst those who resemble rulers,
As if you were steady amidst contradictions.
So if you stand above mankind and they recognize you,
The musk is but a slight trace of the deer’s blood.