The Most Beautiful Poems of Nizar Qabbani on Love
- I will say I love you
I will say to you, “I love you”…
When all the languages of ancient love cease to exist,
And lovers find nothing left to say or do…
Then my mission will begin
To change the very stones of this world,
And reshape its landscape
Tree by tree,
Planet by planet,
Poem by poem.
I will say to you, “I love you”…
And the distance between your eyes and my notebooks will shrink,
And the air you breathe will flow through my lungs,
And the hand you place on the car seat
Will feel like my own.
I will express it when I become capable,
Of conjuring my childhood, my dreams, and my ships of paper…
And restoring the blue time with you on the shores of Beirut…
When you trembled like a fish between my fingers…
And I would cover you, when you dozed off,
With a sheet made of summer stars…
I will say to you, “I love you”…
The wheat ears, until they ripen, need you,
The springs, until they burst forth…
Civilizations, until they are civilized…
Birds, until they learn to fly,
And butterflies, until they learn to paint…
I will say to you, “I love you”…
When the borders finally collapse between you and the poem…
When sleeping on the sheet of writing becomes
Not as easy as you imagine…
Outside the rhythms of poetry…
Not to enter a dialogue with a body whose letters I cannot spell…
Word by word, line by line…
I am not struggling with the issues of intellectuals…
But my nature rejects bodies that do not speak with intelligence…
And eyes that do not pose questions…
The condition of desire for me is intertwined with the essence of poetry.
The woman is a poem that I die writing…
And I die when I forget it.
I will say to you, “I love you”…
When I free myself from the schizophrenia that disturbs me…
And return to being one single person…
I will say it when the city and the desert reconcile within me.
And all the tribes depart from the shores of my blood…
Which the sages of the Third World engraved upon my body…
Which I endured for thirty years…
That marred my masculinity…
And decreed upon you eighty lashes…
On the charge of femininity…
Therefore, I will not tell you “I love you” today…
And perhaps I will not say it tomorrow…
For the earth takes nine months to give birth to its flower,
And the night suffers greatly to give birth to its star…
And humanity waits for thousands of years to produce a prophet…
So why can’t you wait a little while…
To become my beloved?
- I love you, I love you, and the rest will come
Your voice is a Persian rug…
And your eyes are two Damascene sparrows…
Flying between wall and wall…
And my heart travels like a dove upon the waters of your hands,
Taking a nap under the shade of the bracelet…
And indeed I love you…
But I fear getting entangled in you,
I fear being unified within you,
I fear embodying you,
For experiences have taught me to avoid the love of women,
And the waves of the seas…
I do not dispute your love… it is my day
And I do not question the sun of day
I do not debate your love…
For it decides on which day it will come… and on which day it will depart…
It determines the time of dialogue and its form…
Let me pour you some tea,
You are fantastically beautiful this morning,
Your voice is a beautiful inscription on a Moroccan dress
Your necklace dances like a child under the mirrors…
And drinks water from the lips of the vase…
Let me pour you some tea, have I mentioned that I love you?
Have I said that I am happy you came…
And that your presence delights like that of a poem
And like the presence of boats and distant memories…
Let me translate the whispers of the seats welcoming you…
Let me express what the cups think about your lips…
And the spoons, and the sugar…
Let me add you as a new letter…
To the letters of the alphabet…
Let me contradict myself a little
And combine civilization and barbarism in love.
- I love you until the sky rises
To regain my health
And the wellness of my words.
And to emerge from the belt of pollution
That wraps around my heart.
The world without you
Is a huge lie…
And a rotten apple…
Until I enter the religion of jasmine
And defend the civilization of poetry…
And the blueness of the sea…
And the greenery of forests…
I want to love you
Until I am assured…
You are still well…
You are still well…
And the fish of poetry that swims in my blood
Are still well…
I want to love you…
Until I rid myself of dryness…
And the brackishness…
And the stiffening of my fingers…
And my colored butterflies
And my ability to cry…
I want to love you
Until I recover the details of our Damascene home
Room by… room…
Tile by… tile…
Dove by… dove…
And converse with fifty jars of myrrh
As the goldsmith displays.
I want to love you, my lady
In an era where love has become disabled…
And language has become crippled…
And the books of poetry have become disabled…
For neither the trees can stand on their feet
Nor the birds can use their wings.
Nor the stars can move…
I want to love you…
From the deer of freedom…
And the last letter
From the lovers’ messages
And to hang the last poem
Written in Arabic…
I want to love you…
Before a fascist decree is issued
I want to share a cup of coffee with you…
And I want to sit with you for two minutes
Before the secret police pull our chairs away…
And I want to embrace you…
Before they arrest my mouth and my arms
And I want to cry in your arms
Before they impose a customs tax on my tears…
I want to love you, my lady
And change the calendars
And rename the months and days
And adjust the world’s clocks…
To the rhythm of your steps
And the scent of your perfume…
That enters the café…
Before you do…
I love you, my lady
In defense of the horse’s right
To neigh as it wishes…
And the woman’s right to choose her knight
As she wishes…
And the tree’s right to change its leaves
And the people’s right to change their rulers
Whenever they wish….
I want to love you…
Until I restore Beirut, its severed head
And to the sea, its blue coat
And to its poets, their burnt notebooks
I want to return
To Tchaikovsky, his white swan
And to Paul Éluard, the keys of Paris
And to Van Gogh, the flower of (Sunflower)
And to Aragon, (Elsa’s Eyes)
And to Qais bin al-Mulawah,
The combs of Layla al-Amriyya…
I want you to be my beloved
Until the poem triumphs…
Over the silenced gun…
And the students win
And the rose flourishes…
And libraries overcome…
Weapon factories…
I want to love you…
Until I regain things that resemble me
And the trees that used to follow me…
And the Damascene cats that used to scratch me
And the writings… that used to write me…
I want… to open all the drawers
Where my mother used to keep
Her wedding ring…
And her Hijazi rosary…
She kept them…
Since the day of my birth…
Everything, my lady
Has entered into a (coma)
For the satellites
Have triumphed over the poets’ moon
And the electronic calculators
Have surpassed the Song of Songs…
And Pablo Neruda…
I want to love you, my lady…
Before my heart becomes…
A spare part sold in pharmacies
For heart doctors in Cleveland
Manufacture hearts wholesale
Just like shoes…
The sky, my lady, has become low…
And the high clouds…
Have begun to loiter on the asphalt…
And Plato’s Republic.
The Code of Hammurabi.
And the prophets’ commandments.
Have fallen below sea level
And the sheikhs of Sufi paths…
Advice me to love you…
Until the sky rises a little….
Nizar Qabbani
Nizar Qabbani was a Syrian diplomat, poet, and publisher, born on March 21, 1923, in Damascus. He passed away on April 30, 1998, in London, and is considered one of the most prominent and controversial Arab poets of the modern era. He completed his baccalaureate at the National Scientific College in Damascus and then enrolled in the Faculty of Law at the Syrian University. He was fluent in English, having mastered the language during his tenure as Syria’s ambassador in London from 1952 to 1955.
Nizar Qabbani’s Marital Status
Nizar Qabbani was married twice in his lifetime, first to a Syrian named Zahra, with whom he had two children, Hudba and Tawfiq. Tawfiq tragically passed away from a heart disease at the age of 17 while studying medicine at Cairo University. Nizar commemorated him with a famous poem entitled “The Legendary Prince Tawfiq Qabbani” and wished to be buried next to him. His second marriage was to Balqis Rawi, an Iraqi national who was killed in the explosion of the Iraqi embassy in Beirut in 1982. Her passing left a profound psychological mark on Nizar, who mourned her with a well-known poem bearing her name, holding the entire Arab world accountable for her murder. Together, he and Balqis had a son named Omar and a daughter named Zainab. After Balqis’s death, Nizar chose not to remarry and spent his remaining years in solitude in an apartment in the English capital.
Nizar Qabbani’s Poetry
Nizar began writing poetry at the age of 16, with his first collection “The Brown Girl Told Me” published in 1944 while he was still a law student, which he printed at his own expense. He authored a significant number of poetry collections, totaling around 35, over a period exceeding fifty years, among the most notable being “Childhood of the Nymph, The Art of Writing with Words, Poems, Samba, You Are Mine.” Additionally, Nizar wrote numerous prose works, including: “My Story with Poetry, What is Poetry, 100 Love Letters.”
The Musical Adaptation of Nizar Qabbani’s Poems
For over 40 years, renowned singers have competed to perform Nizar’s poems, including:
- Umm Kulthum: Sang two poems, “I Now Have a Gun” and “Urgent Message to You.”
- Abdel Halim Hafez: Also performed two poems, “A Message from Underwater” and “The Coffee Reader.”
- Najah: Sung three poems “What Shall I Say to Him,” “How Much I Love You,” and “I Ask You to Leave.”
- Faiza Ahmed: Performed one poem, “A Message from a Woman.”
- Fairouz: Sang “Whisper” and “Don’t Ask Me What My Beloved’s Name Is.”
- Magda El Roumi: Three poems: “Beirut, the Lady of the Universe,” “With the Newspaper,” and “Words.”
- Khadim Al-Sahir: Four poems: “I have Chosen You, So Choose,” “Increase My Love,” “Teach Me Your Love,” and “School of Love.”
- Assala: Sang the poem “Be Angry.”
Significant Works of Nizar Qabbani
- Do You Hear the Whinny of My Sorrows?
- One Hundred Love Letters.
- The Brown Girl Told Me.
- The Dictionary of Lovers.
- The Art of Writing with Words.
- You Are Mine.
- I Love You, and the Rest Will Follow.
Nizar Qabbani’s Death
After Balqis’s murder, Nizar left Beirut and moved between Paris and Geneva before ultimately settling in London, where he spent the last fifteen years of his life. From London, he wrote poetry that stirred controversy, particularly his political verses during the 1990s, such as “When Will They Announce the Death of Arabs?” and “The Runners, Al-Mutanabbi, Umm Kulthum on the Normalization List.” He passed away in London in 1998 at the age of 75.
Video about the Degrees of Love
Watch the video to discover the degrees of love: