My Affection Remains Unchanged
I attest that my affection remains steadfast,
And I shall hold it dear until death draws near.
My heart still sways for none but you,
Though others claim my heart may soften and steer.
Indeed, the days of youth have passed,
And after those days, hardly any softening shall appear.
When we ascend the hills of lofty dreams,
Our hearts long for the valley of Qura, eyes filled with tears.
As if the tears welling in my eyes, when burdened,
Were nourished by the flowing streams of a tender memory.
Those who dwell nearby know no joy or desire,
Save for aches and sorrows that bring about their fears.
And while I’m consumed by thoughts of longing,
In my heart remains an earnest yearning.
For I have entrusted my heart with a secret,
To Buthayna: a secret in my heart, a treasure hidden.
As a secret drops of dew, none have known that it
Lives deep in the ground, where it is buried.
When a secret passes beyond two, it transforms,
Through whispers and the divulging of words it is revealed.
The terrors of separation leave grays in my hair,
And I lament over where you may be.
Oh, how I sigh! If a barrier exists between us,
And my soul wonders how you, my dear, can be near me!
What if I cover myself, albeit without slumber,
Hoping for a reunion in dreams as I yearn?
Should this distance prolong, my fate will be tragic,
And I shall wither on either side, a captive to its churn.
They say, “What sickness befalls you, when wealth surrounds?”
And laughter from my skin appears to remain stern.
I replied: “Do not reproach my soul, simply observe
How a forsaken one feels when held in affliction’s turn.
Convey to Buthayna that I Have Not Forgotten
Convey to Buthayna that I have not forgotten her,
As long as I live, I shall heed my soul’s whisper to recall her.
She has departed, yet my heart finds no solace,
Not even for a moment, in meeting her once more.
I Count the Nights, One After Another
I count the nights, one after the other,
While I have lived for ages without counting time.
Have you not realized, oh sweet draught of water,
I fade away if not quenched by your loving chime?
I wish that life would grant me an extension of love,
If it could bring additional years to my prime.
Those who speak of my plight only sow desire,
And the ones who wish me well only deepen my climb.
They say, “This is a sickness; a weary heart it damages,”
Yet deep down, I know my remedy is defined.
It is but magic, yet every magic needs a spell,
And I can find no healing in the passage of time.
I adore any name that echoes her essence,
And resembles her or shares in her kindness.
Oh, Her Beauty when Tears Wash Away Her Kohl
Oh, her beauty! When tears wash away her kohl,
And when she sheds tears from her delicate fingers!
One evening, she proclaimed in reproach, “You’ve slain me,”
And my demise—by her words—was her own attempt at yielding.</
I replied: “Please, show mercy,” and she asked me,
“Is this serious from you, or merely a jest you’re wielding?”
Indeed, the brief night stretches long in our presence,
For I am engulfed by the terrors of love’s unyielding.</
Would That My Youthful Days Return
My dear friend, what I endure from yearning is profound,
And my tears bear witness to what I try to conceal.
Oh, I can see, by God, that each tear shall abound
If the distance between us widens like fate’s cruel wheel.
When I say, “What ails me, Buthayna, that I am tormented?”
She responds, “It is constant and will not yield.”
And if I plead, “Return some of my sanity, let me live,”
She turns away and replies, “That is fleeting—it is not real.”
Nor shall I be rejected for what I seek to attain,
For love endures when tied to roots that will not kneel.
God bless the maidservants who keep you safe from harm,
Whenever a dear friend departs, they remain the shield.
Between you and me, take heed—
A covenant from God with bonds that never fade.
Our love was both novel and enduring,
For love is, indeed, a mix of new and old displayed.
Even if the strings of connection fray,
When they ease with desires, they still hold chains.
I have spent my days eagerly waiting for her word,
And my youth has wasted through temporal planes.
I wish that the envious ones would handle our love,
The sweet venom of jealousy that deepens their pains.
And may they know, each evening and dawn,
That they are shackled and bound in their own disdain.
Some women mistakenly believe that I seek them,
But when I approach, it is my heart that remains strained.
So I divide my gaze between them, hoping to resolve,
Yet, within my heart’s chambers, one love has retained.
Would that I could spend a night in Qura’s embrace,
For then, I would find bliss that is untamed!
And will I descend into lands that blow gentle breezes,
That leave a mark of their whispers unframed?
And shall I meet the chance of joy once more,
And reforge the bond of bygone days, unclaimed?
For even distances conjoin the lost in reunion’s glow,
And the realms of need intertwine when reclaimed.
Was I to summon a line in fair measures,
With silks that rival her beauty, none could feign.
In the arms of a beloved one, sight nurturing affections:
When the night fades, have we not shared the same?
My heart, tethered with shadows, yearns with affection,
If I meet her, there’s reluming that is fabled.
They say, “Engage, oh beautiful! In struggles?”
What battle could exist that does not leave me disabled?
For in every discourse among them, joy flourishes,
And every casualty is honored, well labeled.
My happiest moments, and the peak of my delight,
Are the days I recall old loves that have fabled.
Even now, when I reflect on Layla of past,
My heart takes charge, planting roots that have not grazed.
For I nurtured my passion since my infancy, and still,
Today it blossoms, never to be replaced.
Whenever companions are mentioned, she is evoked,
And in spontaneous moments of generosity, her name is praised.
She questions my withheld heart, “Do you yield?”
And it matters not, for love must be embraced.
Would that you could find, dear Buthayna, one night,
To offer us the affection that we’ve chased!
For whoever doubts my devotion to Buthayna,
Let them witness the enchantment our love has laid.
Beloved, Should Buthayna Ask, “What of Him?”
Beloved, should Buthayna wonder, “What befalls him?”
To question his sudden arrival with no promise made?
Tell her that he comes burdened by the weight of love,
And one who has been lost among the shadows must evade.
Buthayna eclipses the gazelles in the morn,
When she appears, never shaming her beauty displayed.
With eyes dark as kohl and shining with light,
She captivates, as her origins have beautifully conveyed.
Her warmth possesses the fierce gentility of a look,
That many a lover bears losses that fade.
Consumed by her tender allure, a deadly affection.
How many hearts have perished, by her trust betrayed!