The Allure of Your Eyes
For your eyes, what the heart encounters and what it has not.
And for love, the remnants of me and what remains.
And I was not among those whose hearts surrender to passion,
Yet anyone who sees your eyelids succumbs to love.
Between satisfaction and discontent, closeness and distance,
There is a space for the tears that trickle down.
And the sweetest kind of yearning is when one’s connection is uncertain,
Wherein separation becomes an eternal hope and fear.
And anger, from the allure, intoxicates like youth,
I have pleaded to her, pleading with the passion of youth,
With a clear expression in conversation,
I have concealed my lips from him, and he kissed my hairline,
And my soft curls, much like your neck, came to embrace me.
Yet, I could not discern between the idle and the adorned,
For not everyone in love maintains their virtue when alone,
Nor does my restraint, which pleases the lover, when desires collide.
May God bless the days of youth that please us,
And my actions, reminiscent of ancient Babylonians,
When you embrace life, relishing in its pleasures,
You tear through it while the attire remains unscathed.
And I have not seen eyes as poignant as on the day of their departure,
They sent forth the agony of others, as if
Their glances were a reflection of pools of mercury.
On that evening, they evaded our gaze and wept,
And from the pleasure of farewell, we feared separation.
We bid farewell to them, and the distance between us felt as if it were
The spear of Ibn Abihayja embedded in the heart of an army.
In the lines woven by David,
When one falls within it akin to the fabric of a healing tapestry,
It sways, akin to the possessions of powerful armies that
Select the souls of the valiant and choose them.
They provide to them every chainmail and armor,
And fortify towards them every wall and trench.
It strikes among the boundaries of the lqan and Wasit,
And sets it firmly between the Euphrates and Jileek.
And it returns stained red as if its essence
Weeps blood from the mercy of the meticulous.
Hence, do not disclose my words to him, for he is
A brave heart that craves battle when mentioned,
Intricate with the edges of swords,
Frolicking with the boundaries of refined speech.
As one who seeks rain with a mere drop,
And a critic, who asks the stars, “be gentle”.
You have been so generous till the praises of all tongues have reached you,
Even the King of Rome paid homage to your generosity,
He stood in place as the commendable flatterer,
And he laid down the sharp lances lingering.
To outperform him in the art of stabbing and darting.
And he wrote from a distant land, with intents
Close by on steeds hastening to you,
And he has moved in your path, a messenger boundless.
And he journeys only atop a precipice enlightened,
When he approached, he concealed his location from him,
The gleam of bright steel reflecting brightly.
And he approached, walking on the carpet, yet remained uncertain
Whether to the sea he was hurrying, or toward the moon he aspired.
And you were undeterred by enemies from pursuing your ambitions,
With the same submission found in eloquent dialogue.
And if you had corresponded with him before this,
You would have written to him with praise amidst the discussions.
If you offer him security, he is a seeker,
And if you provide him with the edge of the sword, he will willingly yield.
And did the white blades among them,
Leave a captive of disgrace or a bondman to the liberator?
Indeed, they have gone to the waterhole like sharp blades,
And they passed it one after the other.
I have attained, through the state’s blade, a rank of nobility,
Illuminating the distance between the west and the east.
If he prefers playing along like a foolish man,
I see him swayed, then said nothing heedful.
And the despondency of the envious is nothing I intend,
Yet, it is he who plunges into the sea will drown.
And the prince tests people’s judgment with his opinion,
And disregards insight in every circumstance.
And the glancing of his eye is not valuable,
When the eye of the heart does not contemplate.
O you, who is sought from your union, persevere thus,
And O you, who are deprived, seek it out, and you will be rewarded.
O you, the most cowardly of knights, clinging to him, bolden!
And O you, the bravest of the brave, part ways with him as separation beckons.
If the enemies conspire against his glory,
His grandfather fervently retaliates against their endeavors.
And virtue shall not prevail against cunning,
Unless it has the merit of successful endeavors.
Love Does Not Silence Our Words
Love does not silence our tongues,
And the most delightful complaint from a lover, unannounced,
If only the beloved, departing, would depart from dawn’s sleep,
Without any fault, maintaining the connection.
We have spent nights, though you adorned us, not knowing
The colors of our emotional display.
Our breath ignited until I truly feared
The reproach would burn between us.
I would gladly sacrifice the parting gaze I kept
At one moment amidst groans and sighs.
I denied the weight of troubles once,
Then confessed it as our destiny unfolded.
And I severed my ties in this world where I’ve wandered,
In it, during the daytime and hours of weakness.
I paused where the dawn sparked my fortune,
Reaching for the wishes of a hopeful crescent from Abi Hussein,
In a lineage cramped by limitations,
Even if time’s container were vast beyond bounds.
A courage that elevates above such mentionable concerns,
And the coward is warned by her whispers of fear.
His competitiveness thrived on the strength of harmony,
Never retreating, would he bend in submission?
He appeared anxious, fearing a blade behind him.
The sharpness of his mind dispelled his uncertainties,
Thus, he unraveled the veils of matters with a certainty.
The powerful here trembles at surprises,
And remains veiled in isolation,
He upholds his resolve, knowing well he is capable,
Hoping to reach afar, thus here lies his essence.
He finds the steel upon the softness of his skin,
A garb lighter than silk, more gentle,
But more bitter than a loss experienced,
For the loss of beloveds feels sharper than the missing blades.
Neither fear finds ease within him,
Nor the grace of goodwill that lacks conveyance.
A knowledge to understand the morrow emerges,
As if the present contains all he will become.
The minds struggle to grasp it adequately,
Much like the celestial bodies encompassing the world.
Among his slain, he cannot forget the liberated ones,
Those who share the brunt of his burdens.
When you returned from coastlines bearing tidings to us,
A sense of solitude was bestowed upon us.
You reeled into the path, as if perfumed,
No area, but more fragrant, recited twice.
Had the trees comprehended your presence,
They offered their branches in welcome to you.
The jinn bewitchingly spiraled in sculptures,
We yearningly gazed at you with eyes unencumbered.
Our vessels danced, and we assumed they would,
Were it not for modesty binding us.
As you arrived smiling, while the steeds stood grim,
They gallop havoc swifter than arrows,
Their hooves were grand, yet none could nab you,
And the affairs lie in your hands, with hearts racing,
On the cusp between fate and aspirations.
I was awed, yet expected nothing from paths unclear,
And witnessed marvels woven from light.
I see you as noble among honors,
In sorts, as grand, standing in ranks.
The heart has grasped what you have brought to the crossroads,
And from mm the fears subsided, but the grip lingered.
Your farewell is the burden I must carry,
And that weight I bore was no trifle.
Pardon me, for your sake, and love me henceforth,
As if you confer upon me a gift of affection.
Communicate through your silence with this concept,
For he who is noble is thoroughly examined by the meanest of claims.
And if the youth dismisses all talk, dismissing himself,
He partakes in dialogue that vanishes softly,
Yet the schemes of the foolish find their triumph,
And enmity from poets is worth little.
The association of the wicked bears a curse,
For side-by-side it drags shameful shadows.
The envy of the disgraced is less impactful,
Than being cast alone upon thine fate.
The land, bereaved of gazelle, witnessed that night,
God provided for you, bringing joy where sorrow dwelled.
Enough of My Emaciated State
Love has wasted my body in regret since the day of separation,
And distance has driven a wedge between waking and dreams.
My soul trembles like gossamer when
the wind strips it bare;
How can there be enough of a body so thin,
If you had not addressed me, I would go unnoticed?
I Concealed My Love
I concealed my love until it became no secret,
Then my inner feelings emerged alongside my declarations.
Like it grew until it overflowed from my being,
Thus, my torment became manifest as a secret wound.
Every Day Brings Fortune from You
Every day I receive some fortune from you,
Which confounds me in an extraordinary matter.
The handle of a sword rests upon another sword,
Much like the lashing of cloud upon cloud.
The earth dries out from this storm,
And creates whatever it adorns in attire.
Neither can time cease yielding from you,
Nor can your rain stop pouring unceasingly.
The boughs and branches follow alongside,
Flowing as beloved companions along the waves.
You provide generosity from which hence we draw,
While your creations dazzle the senses’ delight.
A Maiden with Hair Like Fractured Threads
And a maiden whose hair is like lustrous threads,
Her demeanor is composed, drawing attention.
She moves, and in her palm rests power,
An ensured embrace that encapsulates her essence.
For if she intoxicated us in her ignorance,
What she has done to us cannot be dismissed.