Proverbs on Self-Respect
- Self-respect is the point where a thousand friends and a thousand lovers come to an end.
- In the realm of dignity, do not impose yourself on anyone, nor force anyone to accept you.
- Self-respect gives us a sense of sufficiency, even amidst our needs.
- Self-respect is the ability to act as if you are content with anything, while in desperate need of everything.
- Love is beautiful, but self-respect is far more beautiful.
- Self-respect allows me to smile in front of you while a burning turmoil rages within.
- The highest form of self-respect is to remain silent when others expect you to explode with words.
- Self-respect means elevating yourself and distancing from those who diminish your value.
- Longing is one thing, while self-respect involves multiple elements.
- Self-respect compels me not to force it upon those who do not recognize its worth.
- Take three things from the falcon: far-sightedness, self-respect, and freedom.
- Our misunderstanding of self-respect can turn precious opportunities into wasted chances, making apologies seem forbidden.
- Self-respect is not a sneering tongue or an arrogant disposition.
- Generosity means giving more than you are able, while self-respect means taking less than you need.
- According to the law of self-respect, those who are absent for too long become estranged.
Poetry About Self-Respect
Al-Mutanabbi says:
No pride except for those who are unoppressed,
Perceptive or a warrior who never sleeps.
True determination is not what leads one into illness,
Nor is it a worry that darkness can overcome.
To endure harm and to see the aggressor,
That is nourishment for the body when it weakens.
Wretched is he who envies the lowly their life,
For sometimes a lighter life is found in the grave.
Any dream achieved without capability,
Is a refuge sought only by the base.
He who is humiliated finds it easy to be humiliated,
For what harm can a dead man feel?
Pained by being constricted, yet I had enough,
And the noble have honored me at length.
Standing beneath the weight of my own worth,
Standing as the true essence of humanity.
Accepting modesty from what is beneath,
Aiming for what my injustice desires.
Without the dawn that lights Hejaz and Najd,
And the two Iraqs with arrows and the Levant.
The air struggles with dust whenever,
Ali ibn Ahmad rises, the elevated one.
The cultured, refined, and noble writer,
Sharp-witted, resilient, a champion among men.
Who, with the confusion of his age, escaped bondage
And from his adversaries, clouds sought shelter.
He finds healing from the abundance of wealth with
Generosity, as though wealth is a sickness.
Beautiful in the eyes of his enemies,
More pleasing to his guests than their grazing.
If he were to protect a noble from death,
Respect and reverence would surround him.
And among droplets, like the vibrant ones,
When its nature is honorable, yet its attire is humble.
Written in the pages of glory is his name,
He is Qais and after Qais, comes peace.
Indeed, the son of Auf, son of Sa’d,
Are embers that the ostriches crave not.
Its night is fire, and its morning is
A clarification from smoke fully.
Endeavors have led you to peaks,
That short-lived illusions could not encompass.
And souls, when summoned to combat,
Are spent before the courage can exhaust.
Hearts are firm on the road,
As if their boldness was a submission.
The leaders of every battle and steed,
Have set a standard through brilliance and restraint.
They stumble with their heads just as one would with the t’s of speech.
Your trials were long and overwhelming until,
It speaks of you what I have declared: the sword.
And you have silenced the people just as,
The pens have silenced you.
And experiences have provided you with reflections,
Until there comes a point where experiences suffice.
A knight buys his honor by hastening his demise,
With a quick death that is unblamed.
Gaining a glance from you, poverty adorns him,
As if mercy is a gift of thanks.
The finest of our limbs are our heads, yet,
It is the feet that have honored you.
I have indeed faltered from you, and for loyalty,
There is abundance, and for gifts, there is abundance.
Fearing if I become in your right hand,
That all the tribes will possess me in your gifts.
And from wisdom, I have not visited you,
For distance reveals knowledge.
And from goodness, the delay of your bounty from me,
Is quicker than clouds in a gloomy passage.
Say, how many jewels exist in accordance,
With a desire that it communicates with you.
Night and day feared you; if they were to behold you,
Time would not accompany you.
God is sufficient for you, stray not from the truth,
And none guide you but the wicked acts.
Why do you not beware of consequences amid,
Other forms of deception? Are they not haram for you?
How many dear ones have no excuse for blame against them,
For you possess in them a form of piety.
Integrity has elevated your stature beyond him,
And has bent your heart in monumental pursuits.
Indeed, part of this poetic discourse is mere nonsense,
Not substance, while the other is significant appeal.
Reflections on Self-Respect
In this very moment, I climb the rubble of the past, filled with roses and thorns, lush green grass, yellow desert sand, warm orange rays of sunlight, false promises, eloquent words, deceitful faces, and remnants of dark days that overflowed with despair and sorrow, burning a part of me. In this moment, I gather the scattered fragments of my soul, patching up all my wounds, both bleeding and dry. I step barefoot on my history, on my skin, on my heart and mind, crafting the melody of the future, with its days and hours, its joys and sorrows, its hopes and pains. I dance to all that was, all that is, and all that will be, and I shout aloud: I love you. In this moment, I scatter all feelings and every word penned by their hands; both innocent and lascivious flirts, and I plant them, letter by letter, into your heart, your veins, and your arteries. I inscribe upon your hand: this is my message, my story, and my little symphony for you.