The Poem of Longing for the Homeland
- Written by the poet Muhammad Mahmoud Al-Zubairi:
Memories waft through the fragrant gardens,
Captivating my thoughts and stirring my heart.
A lifetime in a moment regained,
And ages peering through mere seconds.
It seems as though the past lingers within,
Or the echoes of aspirations have returned.
All that we found behind it were forests,
And beasts drenched in blood and suffering.
No eye has slept, nor has peace settled,
For our souls are replete with tremors.
Whenever the breeze blows, we cannot help but feel,
Within it, a sigh of longing for our lands.
It carries dew to the meadows, igniting,
Within us, a blaze of yearning.
Oh, woe to the stranger, what do they endure,
Of the torment of separation and the pain they bear?
The follies of the world have been revealed to me in exile,
And their blemishes have become clear to my eyes.
Each time I tasted a joy, I was warned,
I turned in fear of my era.
And as I yearned for a smile, my homeland appeared,
Provoking my emotions, both urging and restraining me.
On this earth, the outsider possesses naught but tears,
And in the heavens, there are but dreams.
O wind, shatter me and scatter my remains,
Across the expanse of those gardens.
Disperse me in every field among the flowers,
Amidst the branches and the boughs.
My sighs swirl in the sky of my homeland,
And I drink from its radiant beams.
Extinguish my burning with it, and steep
My spirit within it, let my melodies cool.
Convey my regards to my neighbors, my family, and beloved ones,
And tell them what has befallen me.
Scatter my kisses upon their soil,
And fill their vast horizon with my gardens.
Ask them what the enchanting garden brings,
And what the long songs entail.
Have the nightingales mourned for me? Have they cried for me?
Has the foliage grieved over what has distressed me?
If only the garden had a heart, that perhaps time,
Would weep for it as it has for me.
The lands pursued me, extracting the essence,
From my reasoning and from my depths.
Seeking solace for my sighs,
And for my torturous, sweet melodies.
It desires nothing of me except the voice,
To move the heart even if it shatters my essence.
Though the lute is cherished and costly,
Its utility outside smoke is doubtful.
If I do not return to it, I have immortalized,
In its ears, the poignant songs.
O homeland, you are a manifestation of God, you will never part,
From my heart nor from my tongue.
God made from you the mold of my heart,
And from your scent, the soul of my eloquence was shaped.
Here is what I have purified for you in my tears,
And what I have molten in my chest.
The fire of my heart, if revealed, they would say:
A Yemeni essence has passed through the ether.
The Poem: I Must Seek Permission from the Homeland
- Written by the poet Nizar Qabbani:
O my friend,
In these days, O my friend,
A summer butterfly called homeland emerges from our pockets.
A Syrian vine emerges from our lips, called homeland.
It appears from our shirts,
Minarets… Nightingales… Streams… Carnations… Quince.
A waterbird called homeland.
I want to see you, my lady,
But I fear injuring the feelings of homeland.
I want to call out to you, my lady,
But I fear that the windows of homeland may hear me.
I wish to express love in my own way,
But I feel shy before the sorrows of homeland.
The Poem: O Gracious Homeland
- Written by the poet Kahlil Gibran:
O gracious homeland,
You embrace humanity and fill us with joy.
The festival did not return ambiguously, for it was not,
A people of yours that lost their way.
O festival, remember those who forgot that we
Were not servants bound in chains.
We were free in shackles, save the disasters that
Bound us with limitations.
We were the raging waters, meeting with obstacles,
Until we surged toward our goal,
Flowing or roaring stronger.
Every people breaking their chains,
By the right of none, nor aggression.
We were but honorable souls wronged,
So they sought justice, and we did not perish.
I feel in my heart a tightness,
It is cultivated there, while in the sigh there is heat.
Avoid schism, for if it spreads,
Among the thickets of lions, it will consume the predators.
Are you not aware of the rust on the sword,
As it cost dearly and then met ruin?
So do not divide, nor dispute,
Our enemies are fierce and not mere phantoms.
I fear that in letting them in among us,
They will find vengeance and assuage their hatred.
Or that we may erect strong justifications,
For them against us, we’ll end up in dire situations.
They claimed that pluralism could cause us harm,
Yet under its righteousness they said much.
Did we not dismiss a single tyrant,
Only to follow their claims and allow further darkness?
O advocates of exploitation, if you do not cease,
Your fate is terrible.
With the strength of advice, we embrace all,
For if we seek our interests, let us not be wronged,
In every people, races abound,
Nothing equals justice in preserving ties.
Share power and choose your leaders,
From all groups’ choices, unified.
For the lamp for the one who lives near it,
Is clearer than the star; it shines the brightest.
Cooperate to advance; if you dispute,
Amidst the ruins, you shall not find glory.
The highest heritage is in your hands, cherish it,
With foresight to avoid loss.
Our nation, we remember it,
With hearts bleeding for its sake.
The noble mother, enveloped,
Is bought with wealth and hearts are freed.
Be wary not to leave us orphaned,
For I see the state of orphans as beautiful flowers.
And you, my nation, I wish for you,
In my hope, wisdom and guidance.
O my nation, with knowledge you ascend to peaks,
And gain rank and praise.
With harmony, you possess your affairs,
And seize life free and prosperous.
So whoever disagrees, bear with them, for surely,
They shall leave and return no longer.
The Poem: I Have No Homeland But This Homeland
- Written by the poet Suleiman Jawadi:
I have no homeland but this homeland,
I have no land but this one,
That blossoms love within it,
And songs resound.
Not this one where passion abounds,
And hopes flourish.
I have no homeland but this one,
That dwells in my blood.
I have no haven other than these shores,
Which have made my ribs a meeting ground for challenges.
Oh, my body that carries me,
Am I a harbor or am I ships?
Am I an oasis for love or cities?
Oh, my body,
I am drowning in the love of my homeland for my heart.
I am a lover born before time awakens,
Born before love
Emerges from the womb of words,
Before people understand light and darkness.
I am a lover,
So make me a melody on the lips of the innocent.
I am a lover,
So let me indulge in my love,
As my homeland desires and as I desire.
For I have no homeland but this homeland,
And I have no time but this time.
Not this time,
Not this time.