Poem: When Asked About Art, I Said Everything Beautiful
- A poem by Ahmed Shawki:
When asked about art, I replied, “Everything beautiful.”
Its beauty fills the soul, that indeed is art.
And if art does not come to you naturally,
You are closer to wisdom by leaving it behind.
And if it exists in nature and you are not aware,
Then you cannot attain it with beauty.
And if you do not add anything to what was established before,
You are not a pillar of art.
To you, my revered one, attributes like the blooming flowers,
Find shade under the March clouds.
When the ink swears, after a friendly companion or a joyful meeting,
It cannot choose anyone but you for fortune.
However, if ink could express without luck,
It would be fantastic enough to suffice.
It is more lasting than time itself,
A loyal companion in the realm of intellect and sincere choices.
Desired by every soft-cheeked beauty,
And every dark-eyed maiden.
Those who dance in delight, their words enchanting,
Their meanings more riveting than the loudest sounds.
Robes draped upon them once meanings adorned them,
We do not see them excel in quality meant to signify.
O Abithina, You Have Captivated Me
- A poem by Jamil Buthaina:
O Abithina, you have captivated me;
Take your share of the generous spirit within.
For perhaps a fleeting chance has graced us,
Mixed with the carefree words of the jesters.
I answered her with gentleness, after a moment’s hesitation:
“My love for Buthaina occupies my heart.”
If my heart had space as small as a fingernail,
Surely it would deliver my messages to you.
They say you’ve consented to falsehood,
So tell me, do you desire to leave deception’s embrace?
And with the falsehood, from whom I cherish conversation,
It is more pleasurable to me than the obnoxious and loose talk.
Yet my affection for you, Buthaina, remains strong—
When in love, my longing does not diminish.
Your charms ensnared my heart, O Buthaina,
Upon the day of Hajjoun, I miscast my nets.
You promised me, yet you left me waiting,
Making the immediate feel like the distant past.
You hesitated when you saw my longing for you,
Your love was more precious to me than any other.
You followed the advice of critics, abandoning me,
While I defied them, driven by my longing for you.
They urged me to sever the bond of your love,
Yet, despite their insistence, I would not act.
I turned them back as they sought to distance you,
As they endeavored for their way with you.
They clutched their hands in agitation towards me,
And I wished they could grip rugged stones instead.
They say, “Buthaina, you are reluctant,”
“My life is a sacrifice for your essence, from a miserable miser!”
Poem: Has Your Beauty Changed, O Jamil?
- A poem by Ibrahim Al-Aswad:
Has your beauty changed, O Jamil?
Never; your kind is rare among men.
Who else can reveal gloom when it descends besides you,
Or withstand the trials of time?
I admired many of your qualities,
Especially your honeyed words.
You possess wisdom inscribed on the parchment,
A guiding light for discerning minds.
And what greater honor could there be than to be the son of a noble lineage,
Whose elevated status is revered.
Indeed, he has benefited the lands with his healing touch,
And through him, the ill have found relief.
With gatherings of distinction, your name is celebrated,
And your virtues in the land are abundant.
May you remain a radiant moon in Beirut,
Unfading by the passage of time.
Poem: Here I Am, O Heartbeat of My Soul
- A poem by Jamal Mursi:
Here I am, O heartbeat of my soul,
I have come seeking closeness.
I arrived, driven by the longing…
With my heart and my hopes intertwined.
I have come, O my life, to respond,
To the senses of the beloved that called me.
As I wander through lush gardens,
I sip from the cup of tenderness.
It is as though I dwell in an everlasting spring,
Or in a paradise divine.
I heard the birds sing,
Pouring forth the sweetest of melodies.
And I saw the waves dancing,
In harmony and enchantment.
And I perceived the night as an innocent child,
Nurtured by the light of stars.
Echoes of yesterday’s beauty,
Warded me with promises for tomorrow.
So I seized the dream as my steed,
Hastening time.
Scattering the perfume of my yearning,
For a beloved who has not forgotten me.
He has become part of my very essence,
And my life, my being.
I utter this with all my heart,
And my tongue delivers it well.
Poem: For Which of Your Kindnesses Should I Be Grateful?
- A poem by Baha al-Din Zuhair:
For which kindness of yours should I express my gratitude?
And which of your noble favors should I recall?
I lament the debt of gratitude I owe,
And in amazement, I find myself unable to express it fully.
The graciousness you extend draws the veil from your own life,
Yet when counted, it exceeds enumeration.
You have left me with your generosity, which is overwhelming,
And the branch of my hopes, heavy with fruit.
And you have endowed me with the blessings of your virtue,
Which have made my load heavier.
I will thank you while I am alive; and even if I die,
I shall proclaim it when the time comes.
And although I may speak eloquently,
This written work is a mere attempt at expressing gratitude.
I recognize that my praise is insufficient,
And that what you have bestowed is greater and more abundant.
After all, my gratitude for you, when I share it,
Blooms as the garden flourishes, vibrant and fragrant.
Let it remain, like the essence of musk, beautifully untouched,
In splendid breezes, perfumed and exquisite.