Poem: Let the Days Proceed
By Imam Al-Shafi’i:
Let the days act as they wish,
And maintain your composure when fate decides.
And do not despair at the trials of the nights,
For the events of this world are not everlasting.
Be a man in the face of calamities,
With generosity and loyalty as your innate traits.
Even if your flaws are many among society,
And you wish to conceal them under a disguise.
Be covered by generosity, as every fault,
Is concealed by the virtue of generosity.
Never show submission to your enemies,
For the gloating of foes is a misfortune.
Do not expect kindness from the stingy,
For there is no water in the fire for the thirsty.
Your sustenance is not diminished by patience,
Nor does toil increase one’s income.
There is no sorrow that lasts, nor happiness,
Neither hardship nor ease shall remain with you.
If death descends upon you in your dwelling,
There is no land that can protect you, nor sky.
Though the land of God is vast,
When fate strikes, space becomes constricted.
Let the days betray every moment,
For no remedy can shield you from death.
The Wisdom of Al-Mutanabbi
The wisdom expressed in the poetry of Al-Mutanabbi is showcased below:
Not Everything One Wishes to Attain is Achievable
With excuses, there are neither friends nor home,
No drinking companions, no cup, and no shelter.
I desire the times to grant me what,
Is unattainable by the time itself.
Do not face your destiny without nonchalance,
As long as your body accompanies your soul.
No joy shall last if you revel in it,
And no sorrow can return once it has passed.
What harms lovers is that they fall for beauty,
Without knowing life’s depths nor understanding.
Their eyes waste away with tears as their souls,
Chase every beauty while their faces remain fair.
Endure what embraces you; all trials,
For each moment’s trust and safety lies with you today.
What lies in your journey yields no reward,
If I die of longing, who will compensate me?
O you, whose name I mourn from afar,
Each soul will be judged by its deeds.
How many times have I been killed, how many times have I died among you,
Only to revive, the grave and shroud forgotten?
They witnessed my burial before their own passing,
While they departed before the one who buried them.
Not everything a man wishes can be attained,
The winds blow towards what ships do not desire.
Boldness in High Aspirations
If you dare to aspire to noble heights,
Do not be satisfied with anything less than the stars.
The taste of death in trivial matters,
Is akin to the taste of death in significant matters.
My horse will weep for me, its cries,
Like tears shed upon the body.
They join the flames, then grow within it,
Just as maidens flourish in delight.
And they depart the paths, pure,
While their hands bear many scars.
The cowards see that cowardice is wisdom,
Yet that is the deception of a base nature.
Every act of boldness in a person suffices,
None akin to that fortitude found in the wise.
How many blame a right statement,
Only to fall victim to flawed understanding?
Yet, every ear receives from it,
According to its own skills and knowledge.
Wisdom Comes Before the Bravery of the Brave
Wisdom comes before the bravery of the brave,
It holds the primary place, and valiance follows.
When they unite for a noble cause,
They achieve the highest places everywhere.
Perhaps a brave man will strike his companions,
With wisdom before the clash of strength.
If reason did not prevail, the lowest of beasts,
Would be closer to honor than any human.
If souls did not distinguish and plan,
The mighty hands would become obsolete.
If not for the unrivaled quality of their swords,
Then they would have been as overlooked as eyelids.
They plunged into battle until it was unsure,
Whether from arrogance or forgetting.
And they sought to limit their realms in the world,
To those of today, and those of all ages.
Behold, the gatherings in houses and among them,
That saddles are resting places for youth.
They imagined the elegy of the weapon and the thrust,
Transforming into a mere division outside the battlefield.
Patience Leads Me to What I Aspire
By Ibrahim ibn Qais:
Patience leads me to what I aspire, while impulsiveness,
Drives me away from that goal, and folly derides.
Truth rewards me as long as I speak,
With glory, and diminishes through frivolous words.
Goodness, as I know well, is contingent,
And it requires perseverance in pursuit.
Time has never pleased a heart with its bloom,
Without sending disaster to encounter.
If people only realized the merit of jihad,
They would not be entrapped by worldly distractions.
O you, ignorant of the affairs of men, refrain,
Do not let the softness of silk clothing mislead you.
How many a faded spirit with coarse clothing,
Aspired to the heavens and burned brighter than stars.
He departed, victorious for faith, with intention,
Heirs of divine blessings, supporters of truth.
Not like those who sacrificed their lives for worldly gain,
Beaming when adorned in new garments.
Whoever’s aspirations aren’t aimed at heights,
When buying the lowly becomes an obstacle.
We are those who, when our cause arises,
Rattle the misled and cause them to tremble.
We are the seekers, descendants of valiant seekers,
On the path of truth; there’s nothing in our faith amiss.
People of reality since we were judged,
In every era there has existed a call.
Many of our ancestors died martyrs,
For the very reason that provoked envy and resentment.
May God prepare us within the truth they upheld,
And may He guide us to the path they traveled.
Is there a young man who would generously give his soul,
With his brothers rallying for God, united?
Or is there a youthful soul, noble of heart, who sees,
The oppression of the weak and is moved to act?
O my companions, stand, inquiring and inquiring,
Where are the noble? Where are the brotherly bonds?
Where are those who proclaimed yesterday,
For truth, should their flags be raised?
Why have they remained quiet in the days of his valor,
Only to retreat as foes multiplied?
For believers, when promised, are sincere,
And when they made vows of greatness, they fulfilled them.
Do not seek praise in peace if they endure,
But when they bear patience during calamity, they gain it.
Nor should one whose heart is generous during plenty,
Be gravely distressed by a lack in times of scarcity.
If only they would rise to arms and unite,
In faith, and seek refuge in God, they would find strength.
But they have retreated beneath the burden of calamity,
While injustice spreads, and its flames rise.
God preserves and protects,
And He supports and shelters those who seek refuge.
My trust is in Him; my reliance rests on Him,
With Him, I find independence when surrounded by fear.
Do not think that vanity births meaning,
For none but the resilient shines amidst terror.
It is preordained that heroes will clash vocally,
Until they discern between the coward and the brave.
It is inevitable for them to encounter, amidst bodies,
Stirred by the pursuers of the glorious lion.
I am one who is tasked with battle as long as I breathe,
And I will not submit during times of despair.
I will act with conviction, defiant and robust,
Like the steady sounds that follow the night’s coverage.
Poem: The Soul Whispers to You Secrets of Three
By Abu Al-Husayn Al-Nuri:
The soul whispers to you the secrets of three,
Hidden hearts, veiled intentions.
A youth who lost, concealing the secret within him,
Struggles with its acknowledgment as if it were never a secret.
So draw the curtains of discretion to preserve
Every discourse; may it become the secret.
The one who conceals has reached the threshold of silence,
Except for the confessions of the thought that correctly comprehends.
For the secret keeper has held the unspoken,
While all others remain unaware of his inner life.
Poem: The Heart Yearns for Salma, Yet She Will Not Grasp
By Abu Wajzah Al-Sa’di:
The heart longs for Salma but she does not respond,
With much yearning and ecstasy.
Said Su’ad: “I see a wonder in your gray hair,”
With caution, because there is nothing odd in grayness.
Unless you see me dressed in the years of age,
For what has passed from you has not disappeared.
May the heavens bless Su’ad, though she has aged,
Before this, when my head was youthful.
As if her nectar, upon waking, merely reflected,
Light from the Pleiades with moisture from Aleppo.
I present noble she-camels, driven from her,
That gallop swiftly with honor from the riding lambs.
Words far from the guides when the sun illuminates,
The mane of the horse during the tumultuous day.
Until night folds and complicates shadows,
From a shelter where the trees weep.
Direct towards the lord of Qais and the son of her lord,
The fearless champ without deceit.
Mohammed, his father, and his son have created,
Paths of glory and nobility.
The army of defenders ignited the fire beneath them,
They met with vigor in a valley abundant with firewood.
I praised them when I perceived their merits,
In favor above all others among the Arabs.
Unless you reward me for it, none shall suffice,
For who shall recompense if you have not?
Poem: Rule Your Swords Over the Accusers
By Antar Ibn Shaddad:
Rule your swords over the accusers,
And if you find yourself in a house of disgrace, depart.
If afflicted by a tyrant, be a tyrant,
And when you encounter those who are ignorant, ignore.
And if a coward warns you on a day of strife,
Fearful for you from the turmoil’s crowd,
Then resist his counsel and do not heed it,
And advance bravely when the meeting becomes due.
Choose for yourself an abode that elevates you,
Or die nobly beneath the shade of the trees.
For death will not spare you from its ailments,
A fortress even if you build it from stone.
The death of a man in dignity is better for him,
Than to live confined as a captive to the gaze of an eye.
If you are among the bound, let your ambition,
Rise above the Pleiades and the isolated stars.
If the knights of Abbs should deny my lineage,
Then the sharpness of my spear and my sword affirm it.
With my spear and sword, I achieved excellence,
Not by kinship or a myriad of followers.
I tossed my mare into the turbulent dust,
As fire sprang from the edges of its breastplate.