I Feel The Urge To Shout To The World

A crusade that passed through me

While I was in the capital of gloom, a crusade passed by in the form of a woman, and the heart became under mandate, unable to respond against the colonial power. A mixture of sweetness and torment. She has the face of an angel and the stab of a warrior who opens the bolts of consciousness. She opens a door, enters the chest and struts in its left side, and when the full moon appears from between the clouds, she looks up as if she were looking at a mirror. She took from the gazelle, impudence and suspicion, and from the Arabian horses, stubbornness and strut. And now after her invasion, I suffer from love, alienation, and ill fortune. I am the hawk I am the knight I am the poet And she is my punishment.

By : Jamal Bander

During times of war

I want to say: I only love you, And I cling to you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like a knife that clings to the wound, And like a bullet that clings to my heart,

I love you…

~ Nizar Qabbani

Nizar Qabbani (1923–1998)

Nizar Qabbani was one of the most renowned and influential Arab poets of the 20th century. He was born in Damascus, Syria, into a well-off, artistic family. His father, Tawfiq Qabbani, was a businessman and a political activist, and his mother, Faiza Akbik, hailed from a family with strong intellectual roots. His childhood in Damascus, surrounded by traditional Arab culture and the cosmopolitan currents of the time, had a lasting influence on his poetry.

Early Life and Education

Nizar Qabbani’s fascination with poetry began at a young age, and his education at the National Scientific College School in Damascus further nurtured his literary talents. He later pursued law at Damascus University, from which he graduated in 1945. While studying, Qabbani was already writing poetry, and he published his first collection, The Brunette Told Me, at the age of 21. This collection focused on themes of love and femininity, topics that would define much of his career.

Diplomatic Career

After graduating, Qabbani embarked on a long diplomatic career. He served as a cultural attaché and diplomat for Syria in various countries, including Egypt, Turkey, Lebanon, and the United Kingdom. His diplomatic work exposed him to diverse cultures and political environments, shaping his global outlook and influencing his poetry. While he continued to work as a diplomat, Qabbani never stopped writing and publishing poetry.

Poetry and Themes

Nizar Qabbani’s poetry is marked by its simplicity, emotional depth, and bold exploration of taboo subjects. His works often dealt with themes of love, sensuality, and the role of women in society. He was one of the few Arab poets who openly wrote about romantic and erotic love, which caused controversy in conservative circles. His poetry also questioned traditional gender roles and advocated for women’s rights, earning him admiration among progressive audiences. However, his themes were not limited to love. As he matured, Qabbani’s poetry became more political, particularly after the devastating loss of his second wife, Balqis al-Rawi, in a bombing during the Lebanese Civil War in 1981. He began to write about Arab nationalism, the oppression of the Arab people, and the failures of Arab governments. His poetry took on a tone of rebellion and anger, reflecting his frustration with the state of the Arab world.

Personal Life and Tragedy

Nizar Qabbani’s personal life was marked by both great love and profound tragedy. He was married twice. His first wife, Zahra, with whom he had two children, died young, leaving him devastated. His second marriage was to Balqis al-Rawi, an Iraqi woman who became a significant figure in his life and works. Balqis’s death in the 1981 bombing deeply affected Qabbani, and he wrote several moving poems dedicated to her memory. One of his most famous pieces, “Balqis,” reflects his grief and sense of loss. Qabbani’s poetry also carried the scars of personal tragedy from his early years. His older sister’s suicide, after being forced to marry someone she did not love, deeply influenced his views on women’s rights and societal restrictions, fueling his lifelong advocacy for love and personal freedom.

Memoirs

Qabbani also wrote prose, including memoirs that provide insights into his personal life, creative process, and the political landscape of the Arab world during his lifetime. His memoir, My Story with Poetry (Qissati Ma’a Al-She’r), offers a detailed account of his journey as a poet, his inspiration, and the events that shaped his works. In it, Qabbani reflects on how love, politics, and personal experiences intertwined in his poetry. In his memoirs and other prose writings, Qabbani often spoke candidly about his frustrations with Arab politics, the impact of his personal losses, and his complex relationship with his homeland, Syria. His writings reveal a poet deeply affected by both the joys and sorrows of life, committed to using poetry as a means of emotional and political expression.

Legacy

Nizar Qabbani’s poetry remains widely read and celebrated across the Arab world. He is often referred to as the “poet of love” because of his numerous poems on romance and women, but his later political works have also earned him the title of a revolutionary poet. His simple yet powerful style, combined with his boldness in addressing both personal and political issues, has made his poetry timeless. Qabbani’s works have been translated into several languages, and his influence extends beyond the literary world. Many of his poems have been set to music by prominent Arab singers, further cementing his place in Arab cultural history. Qabbani passed away in London in 1998, but his poetry continues to inspire and resonate with readers across generations, reflecting the personal, emotional, and political complexities of the Arab experience.

Kalbime damarımdan daha yakınken seni uzaktan sevmemde anlaşalım. Derdini anlattığın bir yabancı olmama, Kalbime en tatlı ve en güzel aşık olmana.

| Nizar Qabbani

I am a strange woman

I could not fit into the streets inside me nor could i accept the outside world. I had walls that i built in desperation, locked myself in the rooms of isolation.

I am afraid that the feelings that have accumulated in me will suddenly explode and scatter me into granules.

If you want to befriend me, you will have to endure many things.

The Glance That Shattered Silence

In the kingdoms of sand, where the moon lies cracked like a blade, And palaces rise from bones of sages and ruins of caravans made, There ruled a Caliph named Yazan ibn Subh, Seated upon a throne of fire, guarded by jinn and the whispering hush.

And far in a rival land, across the cursed river's sweep, Lived Princess Zahra, whose eyes could make angels weep. Her grandfather had fallen to Yazan's kin in a war of old, So between their houses, hatred ran bitter and cold.

But hearts know no borders when first they ignite, They met in a souk where shadows flirt with light. Zahra was trading with spirits, in spells and silver dust, Yazan watched, enchanted—his duty undone by lust.

"Why stare so boldly, O stranger in royal thread?" She asked, voice laced with dread. "Because," he said, "I have never seen dawn in flesh, And now I must chase it, though the world turn to ash."

And the Spirits Moved in the Shadows

The enemies of love allied: Yazan’s kin from one side, And Zahra’s sorceress-mother from the other, steeped in pride. They summoned seers of stars, bound jinn in chains of fate, Wove spells to turn passion into a poisoned plate.

The markets burned with rumor, the alleys whispered of doom, Slaves were stirred to fury, rebels were led from gloom. The witches spat curses upon the Caliph's crown, Sowing chaos like wheat, hoping to strike him down.

A secret faction rose: The Sacred Shadow, sworn to dethrone, A band of fanatics who claimed justice but wanted the throne. They whispered of Yazan's sins and Zahra's foreign blood, Till the streets turned against them, like rivers turned to mud.

An End Written by Darkness, with Ink of Starlight

The rebels came at moonrise, like wolves with steel for teeth, Yazan stood on the palace roof, the wind a dying wreath. Below him, fire and fury, above, a sky too still, And in his hands, her final note—a prayer, a will.

"If you fall today, know you have my heart in your hand, If you flee, take me far in search of nameless land: No thrones. No homeland. Just you and I— The shadow and the prayer, beneath one sky."

They fought like myths, but myths too must die, Yazan fell with blade in hand, and Zahra fled with a cry. For forty years the sun refused to shine on that sand, Till travelers claimed to see two ghosts walk hand in hand.

They say on moonlit dunes, when the stars are brave, You may see a Caliph and his beloved beyond the grave. Still they dance, still they sing, love stronger than time, A tale told in sorrow, in rhythm, and rhyme.

Thus ends the scroll—but never the longing...

Between you and me

Between you and me there are summer nights, a melody that I secretly dedicate to you, a series of flirtatious poems and the darkness of the night. Between you and me there are endless streets and roads full of strangers Between you and me there are night stars, winter storms, autumn winds, and spring flowers Between you and me there is the nostalgia of September, The crushes of December and The January drunkards. There are whispers and shadows between us And stories that can't be told with words

Between you and me, are the poisoned arrows of lovers.

Kırık bir kütük olduğunu bildiğin sürece, neden her seferinde ona yaslanıyorsun?

| Aron Wiesenfeld

Every time i look at you,

my world slips...

I like to stay at a safe distance from everyone, I am neither near to blame nor far forgotten, present and invisible, like the setting sun, departing and comforting at the same time.

| Charles Bukowski