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- 2. ﻨﻐﻡ ﻤﻥ ﺒﻐﺩﺍﺩ ﻴﻭﺴﻑ ﻋﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻥ
- 3. ﻃﺒﻘﺎ ﻟﻘﻮﺍﻧﲔ ﺍﳌﻠﻜﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻔﻜﺮﻳﺔ א א א . אא א )ﻋـﱪ ﺍﻻﻧﱰﻧـﺖ ﺃﻭ א אא ﻟﻠﻤﻜﺘﺒــﺎﺕ ﺍﻻﻟﻜﱰﻭﻧﻴــﺔ ﺃﻭ ﺍﻷﻗــﺮﺍﺹ ﺍﳌﺪﳎــﺔ ﺃﻭ ﺍﻯ א ﻭﺳﻴﻠﺔ ﺃﺧﺮﻯ ( א א . . א א
- 4. ﺍﻟﻁﺒﻌﺔ ﺍﻟﺜﺎﻨﻴﺔ ﻁﺒﻌﺕ ﻫﺫﻩ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﻤﻭﻋﺔ ﻓﻲ ﻟﻨﺩﻥ ﺴﻨﺔ ٢٨٩١ﻡ ﻭﻗﺩ ﺃﻀﻴﻑ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻗﻁ ﺎ ﺠﺩﻴﺩﺓ ﻫﻲ: ﻌ ? 1- Do you know ?2- Who will full my heart 3- Because ﻜﻤﺎ ﺃﻥ ﺍﻷﺴﺘﺎﺫﺓ ﺍﻟﻔﺎﻀﻠﺔ ﺜﺭﻴﺎ ﻤﻬﺩﻯ ﻋﻼﻡ ﺘﺭﺠﻤﺕ ﻗﺼﻴﺩﺓ Murmurs of The Memoriesﺸﻌ ﺍ ﻭﻨﺸﺭﺕ ﻓﻲ ﻜﺘﺎﺏ ﺼﺩﺭ ﺭ ﻋﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﻴﺌﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﺼﺭﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﻤﺔ ﻟﻠﻜﺘﺎﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﻫﺭﺓ ﻋﺎﻡ ٦٨٩١ﻡ ﺒﻌﻨﻭﺍﻥ Echoes of Arabic Poetry in English Verse ﺍﺨﺘﺎﺭﺕ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﺭﺠﻤﺔ ﻗﺼﻴﺩﺓ ﻟﻌﺩﺩ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭﺍﺀ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺏ ﻓﻲ ﻤﺨﺘﻠﻑ ﺍﻟﻌﺼﻭﺭ ﻤﺜل ﺍﻟﺨﻨﺴﺎﺀ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺘﻨﺒﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﺒﺎﺭﻭﺩﻱ ﻭﺃﺤﻤﺩ ﺸﻭﻗﻲ ﻭﻤﻁﺭﺍﻥ ﻭﺤﺎﻓﻅ ﺇﺒﺭﺍﻫﻴﻡ ﻭﻋﻠﻲ ﻤﺤﻤﻭﺩ ﻁﻪ ﻭﺼﻼﺡ ﻋﺒﺩ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﻭﺭ ﻭﻏﻴﺭﻫﻡ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭﺍﺀ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﺎﺼﺭﻴﻥ. ﻭﻗﺩ ﺘﺒﺭﻉ ﺍﻟﺸﺎﻋﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﻬﻨﺩﺱ ﺍﻟﻤﺒﺩﻉ ﻭﺠﺩﻱ ﺃﺒﻭ ﺍﻟﺭﻴﺤﺔ ﻤﺸﻜﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﻟﺼﻑ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﻤﻭﻋﺔ ﻭﻭﻀﻊ ﻤﻘﺩﻤﺔ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻭﺇﺨﺭﺍﺠﻬﺎ ﻜﻤﺎ ﻗﺎﻤﺕ ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺩﺘﺎﻥ ﺭﻭﺙ ﺠﻭﻨﺯ ﻭﺠﻭﻥ ﺘﺎﻟﺒﺕ ﺠﻭﻨﺯ Ruth B.Jones & Jon Talbot.Jones ﺒﺎﻹﺸﺭﺍﻑ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺘﺼﻠﻴﺢ ﻓﺎﻟﺸﻜﺭ ﻟﻬﻤﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺩﻗﺔ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺘﺼﻠﻴﺢ ﻭﺍﻻﻫﺘﻤﺎﻡ ﺍﻟﺯﺍﺌﺩ ﺒﻬﺫﻩ ﺍﻟﻁﺒﻌﺔ. ﻭﺒﻬﺫﻩ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﺎﺴﺒﺔ ﺃﻜﺭﺭ ﺍﻟﺸﻜﺭ ﻷﺴﺘﺎﺫﻱ ﺍﻟﺠﻠﻴل ﺩﺍﻭﺩ ﻜﺎﻭﻥ D. Cown ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﻘﺩﻤﺔ، ﻓﻬﻲ ﺸﻬﺎﺩﺓ ﺃﻋﺘﺯ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺃﺸﻜﺭ ﺍﻟﺯﻤﻼﺀ ﺍﻟﺫﻴﻥ ﺘﺭﺠﻤــﻭﺍ ﺍﻟﻘﺼﺎﺌـﺩ ﺒﺩﻗـﺔ ﺘﺎﻤﺔ ﻭﻋﻨﺎﻴـﺔ ﻭﺍﻀﺤﺔ؛ ﻭﻫـﻡ: ﺍﻟﺯﻤﻴل ﺍﻟﺼﺩﻴﻕ ﺒﻭﺯﻭﺭﺙ pro. E Bosworthﻭﺍﻷﺥ ﺍﻟﺩﻜﺘﻭﺭ ﺭﻀﺎ ﺤﻭﺍﺭﻱ ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻜﺘﻭﺭ
- 5. ﺍﻟﺯﻤﻴل ﻋﺯﺓ ﻋﺒﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﻴﺩ ﺨﻁﺎﺏ ﻭﺍﻷﺴﺘﺎﺫﺓ ﺍﻟﺒﺎﺭﻋﺔ ﺜﺭﻴﺎ ﻤﻬﺩﻯ ﻋﻼﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﺯﻤﻴل ﻜﻠﺒﺭﺕ ﻤﻭﺭﻴﺱ G. Murrisﻭﺍﻟﺩﻜﺘﻭﺭ ﻋﺒﺩ ﺍﻟﻐﻨﻲ ﺤﺴﻨﻴﻥ ﻭﺃﺨﻴﺭﺍ ﻷﺨﻲ ﺍﻟﻌﺯﻴﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻜﺘﻭﺭ ﻗﺎﺴﻡ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﻤﺭﺍﺌﻰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺎﻋﺩﺓ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺘﺭﺠﻤﺔ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﻌﺎﻭﻨﺔ ﻓﻲ ﺇﺨﺭﺍﺝ ﻫﺫﻩ ﺍﻟﻁﺒﻌﺔ. ﺃﺭﺠﻭ ﺃﻥ ﻴﺠﺩ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﺭﺉ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻲ ﻭﻗﺎﺭﺉ ﺍﻟﻠﻐﺔ ﺍﻹﻨﻜﻠﻴﺯﻴﺔ ﻨﺴﻤﺎﺕ ﻭﺃﻟﺤﺎﻨﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻲ ﺘﺴﺘﺤﻕ ﺍﻟﻘﺭﺍﺀﺓ، ﻭﺃﻥ ﻴﺠﺩ ﺒﻌﺽ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﻌﺔ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﻴﺔ ﹰ ﻭﻴﺭﻀﻲ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭ ﺃﺼﺤﺎﺏ ﺍﻟﺫﻭﻕ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﺭﻫﻑ ﻭﺍﻹﺤﺴﺎﺱ ﺍﻟﺭﻗﻴﻕ. ﻴﻭﺴﻑ ﻋﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻥ ﻭﻴﻠــﺯ
- 6. ﺍﻟﻤﻘﺩﻤﺔ ﻭﻟﻴﺩ ﻫﺩﻫﺩﺘﻪ ﺃﻤﻪ ﻓﻲ ﻤﻬﺩﻩ ﻭﺘﺭﻨﻤﺕ ﺃﺴﻤﺎﻋﻪ ﻤﻤﺎ ﺃﻓﺎﺽ ﻋﻠﻴﻪ ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻩ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﻤﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻔﺼﻴﺢ، ﻓﻜﺎﻨﺕ ﺍﻟﺒﺫﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﺘﻲ ُﺯﺭﻋﺕ ﻓﻲ ﻨﻔﺱ ﺍﻟﻭﻟﻴﺩ ﻟﺘﻨﻤﻭ ﺒﻨﻤﻭﻩ ﻭﺘﺤﻤل ﺜﻤﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﺘﺠﺩﻴﺩ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻲ. ﻫﻤﺴﺕ ﺒﺄﺫﻨﻴﻪ ﻤﺩﻴﻨﺔ )ﺒﻌﻘﻭﺒﺔ( ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺍﻗﻴﺔ ﻟﻴﻜﻭﻥ ﺭﺍﺌﺩﺍ ﻤﻥ ﺭﻭﺍﺩ ﺍﻷﺩﺏ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﺎﺼﺭ ﻭﻤﺸﻌﻼ ﻟﻠﻨﻘﺩ ﺍﻷﺩﺒﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﺜﻘﺎﻓﺔ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻴﺔ، ﺤﻴﺙ ﺃﺜﺭﻯ ﹰ ﺍﻟﻤﻜﺘﺒﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻴﺔ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﺎﻟﻤﻴﺔ ﺒﺄﻜﺜﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺨﻤﺴﻴﻥ ﻜﺘﺎﺒﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺒﻴﻨﻬﺎ ﺴﺘﺔ ﺩﻭﺍﻭﻴﻥ ﺸﻌﺭﻴﺔ. ﻓﻬﻭ ﺍﻷﺩﻴﺏ ﺍﻟﻭﺤﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻜﺘﺏ ﻋﻨﻪ ﺍﻟﻤﺅﻟﻔﻭﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺤﻴﺎﺘﻪ ﺃﻜﺜﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺴﺘﺔ ﻋﺸﺭ ﻜﺘﺎﺒﺎ ﺒﻠﻐﺎﺕ ﻤﺨﺘﻠﻔﺔ ﻜﺎﻹﻨﺠﻠﻴﺯﻴﺔ،ﺍﻟﻔﺭﻨﺴﻴﺔ،ﺍﻷﺴﺒﺎﻨﻴﺔ،ﺍﻟﺭﻭﺴﻴﺔ ﻭﺍﻟﺒﻭﻟﻭﻨﻴﺔ. ﺒﺩﺃ ﺃﻭﻟﻰ ﻤﺤﺎﻭﻻﺘﻪ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭﻴﺔ ﻋﻨﺩﻤﺎ ﻜﺎﻥ ﺘﻠﻤﻴﺫﺍ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺜﺎﻨﻭﻴﺔ، ﻭﻤﻀﺕ ﹰ ﺍﻟﺴﻨﻭﻥ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃﺼﺒﺢ ﻴﻭﺴﻑ ﻋﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻥ ﺒﺭﻭﻓﻴﺴﻭ ﺍ ﻋﺭﻓﺘﻪ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﺎﻤﻊ ﺍﻷﺩﺒﻴﺔ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻴﺔ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﺎﻟﻤﻴﺔ ﻭﺃﺼﺒﺤﺕ ﺸﺨﺼﻴﺘﻪ ﻤﺤﻁ ﺃﻨﻅﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﺒﺎﺤﺜﻴﻥ ﻭﻁﺎﻟﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﺩﺭﺍﺴﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﻌﻠﻴﺎ. ﻗﻀﻰ ﺤﻴﺎﺘﻪ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴﺯﺍل ﻓﻲ ﺨﺩﻤﺔ ﺍﻷﺩﺏ ﺍﻟﻌﺭﺒﻲ؛ ﺇﻨﻪ- ﺒﺤﻕ- ﺸﻤﻌﻪ ﺘﺤﺘﺭﻕ ﻟﺘﻨﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﺩﺭﺏ ﻟﻶﺨﺭﻴﻥ. ﺘﻤﺘﺎﺯ ﺸﺨﺼﻴﺘﻪ ﺒﺨﺼﻭﺒﺔ ﺍﻟﺨﻴﺎل، ﺸﻔﺎﻓﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻜﻠﻤﺔ، ﺍﻟﺒﺴﺎﻁﺔ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺘﻌﺒﻴﺭ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﻤﻕ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺘﻔﻜﻴﺭ ﻴﺤﻤل ﺒﻴﻥ ﺠﻭﺍﻨﺤﻪ ﺭﻭﺡ ﺍﻟﻨﻜﺘﺔ ﻭﺍﻟﻔﻜﺎﻫﺔ ﻭﻫﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻴﻨﻌﻜﺱ ﻓﻲ ﻜﺘﺎﺒﺎﺘﻪ. ﻓﺩﻴﻭﺍﻨﻪ ﻫﺫﺍ )ﻨﻐﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺒﻐﺩﺍﺩ( ﻴﺄﺨﺫ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﺭﺉ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃﺠﻭﺍﺀ ﺃﻟﻑ ﻟﻴﻠﺔ ﻭﻟﻴﻠﺔ ﺤﻴﺙ ﻗﺼﺹ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻭﺍﻟﺨﻴﺎل ﻤﻥ ﺴﺤﺭ ﺍﻟﺸﺭﻕ ﻭﺃﺸﺠﺎﻨﻪ ﻓﻜﺄﻨﻙ ﻤﺒﺤﺭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺸﺭﺍﻉ ﺍﻟﺴﻨﺩﺒﺎﺩ ﻟﺘﺩﺨل ﻓﻲ ﻏﺭﺍﻡ ﺸﻬﺭ ﺯﺍﺩ.
- 7. ﺤﻴﻥ ﻗﺭﺃﺕ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻭﺍﻥ ﺍﻟﻁﺒﻌﺔ ﺍﻷﻭﻟﻰ ﻋﺎﻡ ٢٨٩١ ﺠﺫﺒﺘﻨﻲ ﻤﻔﺭﺩﺍﺕ ﺍﻟﻘﺼﺎﺌﺩ ﻟﻤﺎ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺭﻭﺡ ﺍﻷﻤل ﻭﺍﻟﺤﻴﻭﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﺠﺴﺩﺓ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺸﻌﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﺩﻴﺙ ﻭﻗﺩ ﺠﻠﺒﺕ ﺍﻨﺘﺒﺎﻫﻲ ﻗﺼﻴﺩﺓ )ﺸﺎﻫﺩﺘﺎﻥ( ﺤﻴﺙ ﻴﻘﻭل ﻓﻴﻬﺎ: ﻨﺸـﻭﺓ ﺍﻟﻌﻁﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺭﺒﻴﻊ ﻤﻨـﺎﻫــﺎ ﺩﻓﻘـــﺎﺕ ﺘﺩﺍﻓﻌــﺕ ﺘﺘﺒــﺎﻫﻰ ﺘﺼﻑ ﺍﻟﻭﺠـــﺩ ﺯﺍﺨﺭﺍ ﺘﻴــﺎﻫـﺎ ﻭﺴـﻌـﺎﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻐـﺭﺍﻡ ﺴـﺒﺎﻫــﺎ ﺤﻴﻥ ﻤـﺭ ﺍﻟﻐـﺭﺍﻡ ﻗﺩ ﺃﻀﻨـﺎﻫــﺎ ﻗﺩ ﺸـﻜـﺕ ﻟﻲ ﻭﺃﻜـﺩﺕ ﺩﻤﻌﺘـﺎﻫﺎ ﻓﺒﺎﺭﻴﺘﻬــﺎ ﻗﺎﺌﻼ: ﹰ ﻤـﻨﺫ ﺸﻜﺘﻙ ﺍﻟﺩﻤﻭﻉ ﻓﻲ ﺒﻠﻭﺍﻫــﺎ ﺤﺭﻗـﺔ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﻤﻥ ﺴﻌﻴﺭ ﻫﻭﺍﻫــﺎ ﺤﺒﺴﺕ ﺩﻤﻌﺔ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻋﻴﻨﺎﻫــــﺎ ﺃﺭﺴـﻠﺘﻬـﺎ ﺒﻬﻤﺴـﺔ ﺸﻜﻭﺍﻫــﺎ ﺤﻴﻥ ﺠﻔﺕ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﻤﻰ ﺸﻔﺘﺎﻫـــﺎ ﺃﺒﻠﻐﺕ ﺍﻷﺴﺘﺎﺫ ﻴﻭﺴﻑ ﻋﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻥ ﺒﻀﺭﻭﺭﺓ ﺘﺠﺩﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻭﺍﻥ ﻭﻁﺒﻌﺘﻪ ﻭﺘﺒﺭﻋﺕ ﺒﺼﻔﻪ ﻭﺇﺨﺭﺍﺠﻪ ﻓﻤﺎ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻷﺴﺘﺎﺫ ﻋﺯ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﻥ ﺇﻻ ﺃﻥ ﻴﺜﻨﻲ ﻋﻠﻲ ﻭﻴﺸﻜﺭﻨﻲ ﺒﻤﺎ ﺃﻭﻟﻴﺘﻪ ﻤﻥ ﺭﻋﺎﻴﺔ ﻭﺍﻫﺘﻤﺎﻡ، ﻓﻬﺎ ﻫﻭ ﺍﻵﻥ ﻋﺯﻴﺯﻱ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﺭﺉ ﺒﻴﻥ ﻴﺩﻴﻙ ﺒﺤﻠﺔ ﺠﺩﻴﺩﺓ. ﻭﺠﺩﻱ ﺃﺒﻭ ﺍﻟﺭﻴﺤﺔ ﻟﻨـﺩﻥ
- 8. ﻏﺭﺍﻡ ﺸﻬﺭ ﺯﺍﺩ )ﺸﻬﺭ ﺯﺍﺩ( ﺃﺴﺒل ﺍﻟﺴﺘﺭ ﺍﻟﺩﺠﻰ ﺤﺩﺜﻴﻨﺎ ﻋﻥ ﺠﻤـﺎل ﺍﻟﺴــﻭﺭ ﻭﻏـﻼﻻﺕ ﺍﻟﻌـﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻫﻔﻬﻔﺕ ﻤﺘﻌﻴﻨﺎ ﺒﺸـﻬﻲ ﺍﻟﺼــــﻭﺭ ﱢ ﻭﺼﻔــﻲ ﻜـل ﻟﻘــﺎﺀ ﻋﺎﻁﺭ ﻟـﻑ ﺍﻟﻔﻴـﻥ ﺒﻁﻴﺏ ﺍﻷﻋــﺼﺭ ﱠ ﻤﻥ ﺭﺒﻭﻉ ﺍﻟﺸﺭﻕ ﻗﺼﻲ ﻗﺼـﺔ ﺘﻐﺭﻕ ﺍﻟﻨـﺠﻭﻯ ﺒﺩﻤـﻊ ﺍﻟﻭﺘـﺭ * * * ﺼﻭﺘﻙ ﺍﻟﺭﻗﺭﺍﻕ ﻨﺸﻭﻯ ﻫﺎﻨــﻡ ﻴﻨﺘﺸﻲ ﺒﺎﻟﺤﻠﻡ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺏ ﺍﻟﺠﻤﻴــل ﺃﻨﺕ ﻀﻤﺨﺕ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻭﺇﻟﻬـــﻪ ﻓﺎﻨﺘﺸﻰ ﺍﻟﻭﺍﻟﻪ ﻤﻥ ﻟﻁﻑ ﺍﻟﺨﻠﻴـل ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﺴﻘﺕ ﻟﻙ ﺍﻟﻌﺘﺏ ﻫـــﻭﻯ ﻭﺸﻌﻭ ﺍ ﻓﺎﺽ ﺒﺎﻟﻭﺩ ﺍﻟﻨﺒﻴــل ﺭ ﻭﺨﻴﺎﻟﻲ ﺍﻟﺨﺼﺎﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺁﻤﺎﻟــﻪ ﻴﺸﺘﻬﻲ ﻁﻴﻑ ﺍﻟﻠﻘﺎ ﺒﻌﺩ ﺍﻟﺭﺤﻴـل ﻏﻴﺒﺔ ﻁﺎﻟﺕ ﻋﻠـﻰ ﺁﻻﻤﻨـــﺎ ﻭﺴﻜﻭﺘﻲ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻤﻥ ﻟﻴﻠﻲ ﺍﻟﻁﻭﻴل * * *
- 9. ﻻ ﺘﻠﻭﻤﻲ )ﺸﻬﺭﻴﺎﺭﺍ( ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺠﺩ ﻓﻲ ﺤﺒـﻪ ﻤﻥ ﻨﺎﺼــﺭ ﻭﺍﺭﻓﻘﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺸﺎﻋﺭ ﺘﺅﻟﻤــــﻪ ﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺕ ﻤﺎ ﻤﺸﺕ ﻓﻲ ﺨﺎﻁــﺭ ﻗﺘـﻠﺕ ﺃﻨﻐﺎﻤـﻪ ﻏـــﺎﺩﺭﺓ ﻭﺃﻤﺎﺘﺕ ﺃﻤﻨﻴﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﺸــﺎﻋــﺭ ﻭﺴﻘﺘﻪ ﻜﺄﺴـﻬﺎ ﻁﺎﻓﺤــــﺔ ﻭﺘﻠﻅﺕ ﺒﺎﻟﺯﻋﺎﻑ ﺍﻟﻐـــﺎﺩﺭ ﻗﻠﺒﻪ ﺍﻟﺸﺭﻗﻲ ﻤﺎﺃﺨﻀﻌــــﻪ ﻟﻐﺭﺍﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﻓﺎﺠــــﺭ * * * ﺸﻭﻗﻙ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺒﺽ ﻟﺤﻥ ﺸـــﺎﺭﺩ ﻫﺯ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﺃﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﺭﺠـــﺎﻩ ﻓﺎﺫﻜﺭﻴﻪ ﻭﺍﻋﺯﻓﻲ ﺃﻟﺤﺎﻨــــﻪ ﺇﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻨﺠﻭﺍﻩ ﺃﻟﺤﺎﻥ ﺍﻟﺤﻴـــﺎﻩ ﻭﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻫﺘﺯ ﻴﻭ ﺎ ﺨﺎﻓـــﻘﺎ ﻤ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻴﺴﺘﺎﻑ ﺒﻨﻔﺢ ﻤﻥ ﻫــﻭﺍﻩ ٍ ﻜﺭﻉ ﺍﻷﻜﺅﻭﺱ ﻓﻴ ﺎ ﻋﺎﺭﻤــﺎ ﻀ ﻤﻥ ﻫﻤﻭﻡ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺫﺭﻫﺎ ﻟﺴــﻭﺍﻩ ﻓﻐﺩﺕ ﺃﻨـﻐﺎﻤـﻪ ﻫﺎﺌﻤــــﺔ ﺘﻤﻸ ﺍﻟﺩﻨﻴﺎ ﺃﻫﺎﺯﻴــﺞ ﺭﺅﺍﻩ * * *
- 10. ﻭﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﺭﻕ ﺍﻟﺸــﺫﺍ ﺩﺍﻤﻲ ﺍﻵﻻﻡ ﻴﺯﺠـﻲ ﻨﺸــﺭﻩ ﻓﻬﻭ ﻟﺤﻥ ﻟﻔﺅﺍﺩ ﻭﺇﻟـــــﻪ ﻀﺠﺕ ﺍﻟﺸﻜﻭﻯ ﻓﻜﺎﻨﺕ ﺨﻤـﺭﻩ ﺨﻤﺭﺓ ﻗـﺩ ﻋﺘﻘﺘـﻬﺎ ﻏــﺎﺩﺓ ﻭﺩﺃﺕ ﻓﻲ ﻓﻴﺽ ﻫﺠﺭ ﺼﺒـﺭﻩ ﻓﻬﻭ ﻓﻲ ﺒﻐﺩﺍﺩ ﻴﺴﺘﺎﻨﻑ ﻫــﻭﻯ ﺒﺩﺩﺕ ﻓﻭﻕ ﺜﺭﺍﻫﺎ ﻋﻁــــﺭﻩ ﻓﻐﺩﺍ ﻴﻌﺯﻑ ﻟﺤـ ﹰﺎ ﺒﺎﻜﻴـــﺎ ﻨ ﻭﻏـﺩﺍ ﺍﻟﻜﻭﻥ ﻴﻐﻨﻲ ﺸﻌــﺭﻩ
- 11. ﺤﺴﻨﺎﺀ ﻤﻥ ﺇﺒﺭﺩﻴﻥ ﺇﻥ ﺃﻴﺎﻤﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﺒﻴﺒﺔ ﻜﺎﻨـــﺕ ﻟﺫﺓ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻓﻲ ﻫﻭﻯ ﻤﻔﺘـﻭﻥ ﻴﻭﻡ ﻜﺎﻨﺕ ﺒﻌﺎﺘﻘﻲ ﺘﺘﺩﻟـــﻰ ﺒﺩﻻل ﻭﻏﺒﻁﺔ ﻭﺠﻨــــﻭﻥ ﻏﻀﺕ ﺍﻟﻁﺭﻑ، ﺜﻡ ﻗﺎﻟﺕ:ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﻴﺎ ﻤﻨﻰ ﺍﻟﻨﻔﺱ ﻴﺎ ﺤﻨﻴﻥ ﺍﻟﺤﻨﻴـﻥ ﺃﻨﺕ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﻠﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﺴﻤﻴﺭﻱ ﻭﺃﻤﺎﻥ ﻟﻘﻠﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﻨــــﻭﻥ ﻭﺃﺭﻯ ﻁﻴﻔﻙ ﺍﻟﺤﺒﻴﺏ ﻴﻐﻨــﻲ ﻜل ﻴﻭﻡ ﺒﺴﺎﺤﺭﺍﺕ ﺍﻟﻠﺤــﻭﻥ ﺃﻨﺎ ﺃﻫﻭﻯ ﺒﻼﺩﻙ ﺍﻟﺴﺤﺭ ﻓﻴـﻬﺎ ﻴﺘﺠﻠﻰ ﺒﻘﻠﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻭﻟﻬــــﺎﻥ * * * ﻭﺍﻟﻌﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻴﻤﺴﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻀﺤﻜﺔ ﺍﻟﺒﺩﺭ ﻭﻴﺨﻁﺭﻥ ﻤﻥ ﻫـﻭﻯ ﺍﻟﻨﺩﻤــﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﺨﺫﻨﻲ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻓﺈﻨــــﻲ ﱢ ﺴﻭﻑ ﺃﺸﺩﻭ ﺒﺄﻋﺫﺏ ﺍﻷﻟﺤـــﺎﻥ ﻭﺴﺄﻏﺩﻭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺭﻤﺎل ﻜﺜﻴﺒـــﺎ ﺘﺘﻐﻨﻰ ﺒﻪ ﺸﻔﺎﻩ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨـــــﻲ ﻀﻤﻨﻲ ﻟﻠﺤﺭﻴﻡ ﺴﻠﻁﺎﻥ ﻗﻠﺒـــﻲ ﻟﺴﺕ ﺃﺨﺸﻰ ﺒﺎﻟﺸﺭﻕ ﺴﺠﻥ ﺍﻟﺤﺭﻴﻡ
- 12. ﺃﻭﻟﺴﻨﺎ ﻤﻊ ﺍﻟﻨﺠـﻭﻡ ﺴﻜـــﺎﺭﻯ َ ﹶ ﹶ ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺭﻜـﺎﺏ ﺨﺩﻥ ﻜــﺭﻴــﻡ ﻴﺎ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺼﺤـﺎﺭﺍﻙ ﺨﺫﻨــﻲ ﺜﻡ ﺫﺭﻨﻲ ﻭﺤﻴﺩﺓ ﻟﻠﻨﺠــــــﻭﻡ ﺴﻭﻑ ﺃﺸﺩﻭ ﻟﻠﺸﺭﻕ ﺃﺠﻤل ﻟﺤــﻥ ﻋﺒﻘﺭﻱ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﻯ ﻭﺍﻟﺘﻬﻭﻴـــــﻡ ﻗﻠﺕ: ﻴﺎ ﻤﻨﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻔﺅﺍﺩ ﺍﻟﻬﺎﺌـــــــﻡ ﻭﺠﺩﺍ ﻴﻼﻋﺞ ﺍﻷﺸﺠــــــﺎﻥ ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﻓﻴﻙ ﻤﻐﺭﻡ ﻤﺴﺘﻬـــــﺎﻡ ﻗﺩ ﺘﺒﺎﺭﻯ ﻓﻲ ﺴﺎﺤﺔ ﺍﻷﺤــﺯﺍﻥ ﻓﺈﺫﺍ ﺴﺎﻋﺩ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺴـﺤﺭ ﺒـﻌﺽ ﻴﺤﺘﻭﻴﻨﻲ ﻭﻋﺭﺒﺩﺕ ﺸﻔﺘـــﺎﻥ
- 13. ﺇﻟـــﺯﺍ ﻜﻡ ﻗﺒﻠﺔ ﺭﺘﻠﺘﻬﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺸﻔـﺎﻩ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺤــﺭﻩ ﺃﻨﻐﺎﻤﻬﺎ ﺘﺠﺎﻭﺒﺕ ﺼﺩﻯ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺜﺎﺌــﺭﻩ ﻭﺃﻨﺕ ﻓﻭﻕ ﺴﺎﻋﺩﻱ ﺤﻴﺭﻯ..ﻭﻜﻨﺕ ﺴﺎﺩﺭﻩ ﻓﻲ ﻟﺠﺔ ﺍﻟﺤـﺏ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻻ ﺘﻨﺸﺩﻴﻥ ﺁﺨـﺭﻩ * * * ﻤﺎ ﺃﻨﺕ ﺇﻻ ﻨﺸﻭﺓ ﺍﻟﻌﻁﺭ ﻭﻟﺤﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﺎﺌــﻡ ﺫﻭﺒﺘﻨﻲ ﻓﻲ ﻋﺎﻁﺭ ﺍﻟﺸﻭﻕ ﺍﻟﺭﻓﻴﻕ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﻋﻡ ﻴﺎ ﻨﺴﻤﺔ ﺍﻷﻟﺤﺎﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻗﻠﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﻭﻕ ﺍﻟﺤﺎﻟﻡ ﺃﺨﺭﺴﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻭﻜﻡ ﺘﺤﺕ ﺴﻜﻭﺕ ﺍﻟﻭﺍﺠﻡ * * * ﺤﻼﻭﺓ ﻗﺩ ﻤﻸﺕ ﻋﻤﺭﻱ ﺒﻤﻌﻁﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﻘﺒــل ﻭﻨﺸﻭﺓ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﺒﻴﺏ ﺒﻴﻥ ﺃﺤﻼﻡ ﺍﻟﻐـﺯل ﺃﺴﻜﺭﺘﻨﻲ ﺒﺎﻟﻭﺼل ﻭﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻭﺃﻨﻐﺎﻡ ﺍﻷﻤـل ﻴﺎ ﺭﺏ ﻫﺫﻱ ﺴﺎﻋﺔ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺎﺀ ﻗﺩ ﻁﺎﺏ ﺍﻷﺠل
- 14. ﺴﻜﺴﻭﻨﻴﺔ ﻴﺎ ﺭﻭﺍﺀ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﻴﻊ ﻴﺎ ﻀﺤﻜﺔ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﺭ ﻴﺎ ﺭﺍﺌﻌﺎﺕ ﺍﻷﻏﺎﻨﻲ ﻴﺎ ﺠﻤﺎل ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﻴﺎ ﺒﺴﻤﺔ ﺍﻟﺤﻠﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺸﻔﺎﻩ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨـﻲ ﺍﻟﺠﻤﺎل ﺍﻟﻨﺸﻭﺍﻥ ﻴﺨﺘﺎل ﻓﻲ ﻨﻬﺩﻴﻙ ﻜﺎﺨﺘﻴﺎل ﺍﻟﻐﻭﺍﻨﻲ ﺒﻙ ﻗﺩ ﺒﺎﻫﺕ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﻭﻏﻨﺕ ﺒﻬﺎﺌﻡ ﺍﻷﻟﺤـــﺎﻥ * * * ﻭﺠﻬﻙ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﺭﻕ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﻴﺭ ﺘﺭﺍﺘﻴل ﺭﺍﻫﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺼﻼﺓ ﺃﻴﻥ ﻤﻨﻙ ﺍﻟﺤﻭﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﺴﺎﻥ ﻓﺄﻨﺕ ﻤلﺀ ﺍﻟﺤﻴـــﺎﺓ ﻫﺫﻩ ﺍﻟﻨﺴﻤﺔ ﺍﻟﺸﺫﻴﺔ ﻫﺎﻤﺕ ﺒﺩﺍﻓﺊ ﺍﻟﻨﺴﻤـــﺎﺕ ﻭﺘﻤﻨﺕ ﻫﻴﻤﺎﻨﺔ ﺍﻟﻌﻁﺭ ﺴﻜﺭﻯ ﺃﻨﻔﺎﺴﻙ ﺍﻟﻌﻁـﺭﺍﺕ
- 15. ﺯﺍﻫﻴﺔ ﻤﻥ ﻫﺎﻤﺒﻭﺭﻍ ﻟﻡ ﺘﺒﻕ ﻏﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺕ ﻭﻁﻴﺒﻬﺎ ﹶ ﻭﻤﺭﺍﺭﺓ ﺍﻵﻻﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﺤﺭﻤــﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ ﻗﻠﺏ ﻭﻴﺤﻙ ﻜل ﻴﻭﻡ ﻭﺍﺠﻑ ﻨﻀﺒﺕ ﻗﻭﺍﻙ ﻭﺃﻨﺕ ﺒﻌﺩﻙ ﺤﺎﻨﻲ ﻓﻲ ﻜل ﻴﻭﻡ ﻟﻭﻋﺔ ﻤﻬﺭﺍﻗــﺔ ﻗﺩ ﺤﻁﻤﺘﻙ ﻟﻭﺍﻋﺞ ﺍﻷﺯﻤــﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ ﻭﻴﺢ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﻤﺎ ﻴﺘﻭﺏ ﻋﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻗﺩ ﺃﺴﻜﺭﺘﻪ ﻤﻔﺎﺘﻥ ﺍﻟﻐــﺯﻻﻥ ﺃﻴﺎﻡ ﻭﺼل ﻤﻥ ﻋﺒﻴﺭ ﺤﻴﺎﺘﻨـﺎ ﺴﻘﻴﺕ ﻓﻔﺎﻀﺕ ﻤﻥ ﻫﻨﺎ ﺍﻟﻬﻴﻤﺎﻥ ﻜﻡ ﻟﻴﻠﺔ ﻏﻨﺕ ﺴﻌﺎﺩﺓ ﺤﺒﻨــﺎ ﻁﺭﺒﺎ ﺒﺴﺤﺭ ﺍﻟﺼﻭﺕ ﻭﺍﻷﻟﺤﺎﻥ ﺜﻤﻼ ﺒﻜﻭﺜﺭ ﺜﻐﺭﻫﺎ ﻤﺘﻨﻌﻤـــﺎ ﹰ ﺨﻤﺭﻱ ﻟﻤﻰ ﻭﺍﻟﻜﺄﺱ ﻟﻲ ﺸﻔﺘﺎﻥ ﺤﻭﺭﻴﺔ ﻋﺫﺏ ﻟﺩﻱ ﺤﺩﻴﺜـــﻬﺎ ﺘﺠﻠﻭ ﺒﺤﻠﻭ ﺤﺩﻴﺜﻬﺎ ﺃﺤﺯﺍﻨــﻲ ﻜﺎﻨﺕ ﺘﺴﺎﻗﻴﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﻌﺎﺩﺓ ﻭ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺎ ﻤﺭﺤﺎ ﻭﺘﻤﻸ ﻤﻬﺠﺘﻲ ﺒﺤﻨـﺎﻥ ﺨﻁﺭﺕ ﻓﺄﻟﻬﺒﺕ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﻤﺤﺎﺴﻨﺎ ﻭﺘﻤﺎﻴﻠﺕ ﻏﺼﻨﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻷﻏﺼﺎﻥ ﹰ ﻭﺠﻪ ﺘﻬﺯ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﻓﻴﻪ ﻤﻔﺎﺘـﻥ
- 16. ﺘﺴﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﻭﺏ ﺒﺤﺴﻨﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻔﺘﺎﻥ ﻭﻜﺄﻨﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺫﻫﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﺼﻔﻰ ﺸﻌﺭﻫﺎ ﻗﺩ ﻤﺎﺱ ﻓﻲ ﻤﺭﺡ ﻭﻓﻲ ﺭﻴﻌﺎﻥ ﺠﻠﺕ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﻤﻔﺎﺘﻨﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺤﺴﻨﻬﺎ ﹰ ﻭﺸﻲ ﺍﻹﻟﻪ ﺒﺤﺴﻨﻬﺎ ﺃﻏﻭﺍﻨﻲ ﻤﺎ ﻜﻨﺕ ﺃﺩﺭﻱ ﺃﻥ ﻴﻭﻡ ﻓﺭﺍﻗﻬﺎ ﻴﺫﻜﻲ ﺃﻭﺍﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻤلﺀ ﻜﻴﺎﻨﻲ ﻭﺘﻨﻬﺩﺕ ﺃﻟﻤﺎ ﻓﻘﻠﺕ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻭﻜﻔﻰ ﻓﺎﻟﺩﻤﻊ ﻓﻲ ﻋﻴﻨﻴﻙ ﻗﺩ ﺃﻀﻨﺎﻨﻲ ﻓﺘﺒﺴﻤﺕ ﻭﺩﻤﻭﻋﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺨﺩﻫﺎ ﺘﺠﺭﻱ ﻜﺩﺭ ﺴﺎل ﻓﻭﻕ ﺠﻤـﺎﻥ ﻗﺎﻟﺕ: ﺃﺘﺫﻜﺭ ﻋﻬﺩﻨﺎ ﺃﺤﺒﺏ ﺒـــﻪ ﻋﻬﺩﺍ ﻗﻀﻴﻨﺎﻩ ﺒﻼ ﺴﻠــﻭﺍﻥ ﻭﺘﻀﺎﺤﻜﺕ ﻟﻜﻥ ﺘﺤﺩﺭ ﺩﻤﻌﻬﺎ ﺃﺫﻜﻰ ﺍﻷﻭﺍﺭ ﻓﻔﺎﻀﺕ ﺍﻟﻌﻴﻨـﺎﻥ ﻟﻡ ﺘﺴﺘﻁﻊ ﺼﺒﺭﺍ ﻭﻏﺎﻟﺒﺕ ﺍﻟﺒﻜﺎ ﺜﻡ ﺍﺭﺘﻤﺕ ﻜﺎﻟﻁﻔل ﻓﻲ ﺃﺤﻀﺎﻨﻲ ﻓﺎﻀﺕ ﻤﺩﺍﻤﻌﻬﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺼﺩﺭﻱ ﻓﻤﺎ ﺃﺤﺴﺕ ﻏﻴﺭ ﺫﻭﺍﺌﺏ ﺍﻟﻨﻴـــﺭﺍﻥ ﺭﺒﺎﻩ! ﺒﺎﻟﺨﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﻴﻡ ﻤﻭﺩﻋــﻲ ﺤﺒﺏ ﻟﻪ ﻫﺠﺭﻱ ﻋﺴﻰ ﻴﻨﺴﺎﻨـﻲ ﻤﺎ ﺒﺎل ﺫﻴﺎﻙ ﺍﻟﻘﻁﺎﺭ ﻴﺌﻥ ﻤــﻥ ﺃﻟﻤﻲ ﻭﻴﺯﻓﺭ ﺯﻓﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻬﻴﻤــﺎﻥ ﻗﻑ ﻴﺎ ﻗﻁﺎﺭ ﻭﻻ ﺘﺴﺭ ﺒﺤﺸﺎﺸﺘﻲ ﻭ ﺍﺭﻓﻕ ﺒﻠﻬﻔﺔ ﻤﺩﻨﻑ ﻭﻟﻬــﺎﻥ
- 17. ﺤﻴـﺭﺓ.؟؟ ﻴـﺒـﻭﺡ ﺃﻡ ﻴـﻜﺘـﻡ ﺼـﺏ ﺒـﻜـﻡ ﻤﻐﺭﻡ ﺇﻥ ﺒﺎﺡ ﻓﻲ ﻭﺠــﺩﻩ ﻓﻜـﻠـﻜــﻡ ﻟــﻭﻡ ﹸ ﻓﻲ ﻗﻠــﺒﻪ ﻻﻋــﺞ ﻭﺒﺎﻟـﻬﻭﻯ ﻤﻔﻌـــﻡ ﺃﺨـﻔﻰ ﺠـﺭﺍﺤـﺎ ﻟﻪ ً ﻫﻴﻨـﻬﺎ ﻤـﺅﻟـــﻡ ﻻ ﺫﻗﺘـﻡ ﻟـﻭﻋﺘــﻲ ﻤﻥ ﺼـﺎﺒﻬﺎ ﻤﻁﻌـﻡ ﺃﺴﻬـﺭﺘﻡ ﻤﺩﻨﻔـ ًﺎ ـ ﻟﻜﻨﻜــﻡ ﻨﻤﺘـــﻡ ﻤﺎ ﺒﺎل ﻗﻠـﺒﻲ ﺍﻟـﺫﻱ ﻻ ﻴﺭﻋـﻭﻱ ﻋﻨﻜـﻡ ﻗﺩ ﻟـﺞ ﻓﻲ ﻭﺠـﺩﻩ ﻭﺴﻘﻤـﻪ ﻤﻨﻜـــﻡ
- 18. ﺸﺎﻋﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺩ ﺴﺄﻟﺘﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺸﺎﻋﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺩﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻜﺒﻴﺭﺓ ﺒﺭﺒﻬﺎ ﺠﻭﺕ ﺨﻼل ﻤﺅﺘﻤﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺘﺸﺭﻗﻴﻥ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻋﻘﺩ ﻓﻲ ﺩﻟﻬﻲ ﻋﻥ ﺴﺭ ﺍﻷﻟﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺸﻌﺭﻱ ﻓﻘﻠﺕ ﻟﻬﺎ: ﺃﺸﺎﻋﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺩ ﺍﻟﺘﻲ ﻓﺎﺡ ﻨﺸــﺭﻫﺎ ﻋﻭﺍﻁﻑ ﻫل ﺘﺩﺭﻴﻥ ﻤﺎ ﻓﻌﻠﺕ ﻫﻨــﺩ ﺘﻘﻭﻟﻴﻥ ﺸﻌﺭﻱ ﻜﻠﻪ ﺫﻭﺏ ﺨﺎﻓﻘــﻲ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴﺼﻨﻊ ﺍﻟﻤﺤﺯﻭﻥ ﺃﻨﻬﻜﻪ ﺍﻟﺼـﺩ ﻭﺫﻨﺒﻲ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﺃﻨﻨﻲ ﺼﺎﺩﻕ ﺍﻟﻬــﻭﻯ ﻭﻴﻬﺘﺎﺠﻨﻲ ﺤﺒﻲ ﻭﻴﻐﺭﻱ ﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻭﺠـﺩ ﻭﺃﻨﻲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻗﻠﺕ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻗﺼﻴـــﺩﺓ ﺘﺭﺩﺩﻫﺎ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺍﻟﺠﻤﺎﺩﺍﺕ ﻭﺍﻟﺼﻠــﺩ ﻓﻬﺎ ﻴﺎ ﺍﺒﻨﺔ ﺍﻟﺒﻨﺠﺎﺏ ﺇﻥ ﺠﺌﺕ ﺸﺎﻜﻴﺎ ﺃﻟﻤﺎ ﻭﻫﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﺒﺎﻟﻬﻡ ﻴﻨﻘــــﺩ 6 ﻜﺎﻨﻭﻥ ﺍﻟﺜﺎﻨﻲ 4691
- 19. ﻫﻤﺴﺔ ﺍﻟﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺕ ﻗﻑ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﻗﺒل ﺃﻥ ﺘﺫﻫﺏ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻟﺤﻅﺔ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃﺭﺍﻙ. ﺃﺸﺒﻊ ﺍﻟﻌﻴﻨﻴﻥ ﻤﻜﻥ ﺩل ﻭﻓﻥ ﻭﺃﻁﻴل ﺍﻟﻨﻅﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﺤﻤﻭﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺁﻴﺎﺕ ﺤﺴﻥ ﻗﻑ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ * * * ﺭﻭﻀﺘﻲ ﺃﻨﻌﺸﺘﻬﺎ ﺒﺎﻷﻤل ﻤﺫ ﺭﺸﻔﻨﺎﻫﺎ ﺠﻨﻭﻥ ﺍﻟﻘﺒل ﻋﺫﺒﺔ ﻤﺜل ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﻭﺭﻗﻴﻘﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﺤﻨﺎﻥ ﻻ ﺘﺫﺭﻨﻲ ﺭﺍﺸﻔﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﺄﻡ ﺍﻟﻤﻀﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﻜﺌﻴﺏ ﹰ ﻭﺤﻭﺍﻟﻲ ﺃﺤﺎﺴﻴﺴﻲ ﺍﻟﺠﺭﻴﺤﻪ ﻤﻁﺭﻗﺎﺕ ﻓﻲ ﺤﻨﺎﻴﺎﻱ ﺍﻟﺫﺒﻴﺤﻪ ﻗﺒل ﺃﻥ ﺘﺫﻫﺏ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻗﻑ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ * * * ﻴﺎ ﻟﺫﻜﺭ ﺃﻨﺎ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺍﻷﻨﺴﺎﻡ ﺘﺴﺭﻱ ﻁﻔﺤﺕ ﻓﻲ ﻗﺒﻼﺕ ﻨﻐﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﺤﺭ ﻴﻐﺭﻱ
- 20. ﻭﺸﻔﺎﻨﺎ ﺍﺭﺘﻌﺸﺕ ﻨﺸﻭﻯ ﺒﺴﻜﺭ ﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺕ ﻤﻥ ﺃﻓﺎﻭﻴﻕ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻋﻁﺭ ﻓﺠﺭ ﺜﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻠﺫﺓ.. ﺤﻠﻭﻩ ﺘﻁﺭﺏ ﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﺒﻨﺸﻭﻩ ﻗﺩ ﻗﻀﻴﻨﺎﻫﺎ ﻋﻨﺎﻗﺎ ﻭﺤﻨﺎﻨﺎ ﻭﺸﺭﺒﻨﺎﻫﺎ ﺠﻤﺎﻨـﺎ ﺃﺴﻜﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﻫـﻭﺍﻨـﺎ ﻗـﺒل ﺃﻥ ﺘﺭﺤل ﻋﻨﻲ ﻗﻑ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ * * * ﻟﻥ ﺃﺭﻯ ﺍﻟﺒﻁ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺠﺩﻭل ﻨﺎﺌﻡ ﻴﺘﻨﺎﻏﻰ ﻓﻲ ﺭﺒﻴﻊ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺸﺩﻭ ﺍﻟﻨﺴﺎﺌﻡ ﻭﺴﻴﺠﺭﻱ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻤﻥ ﺩﻤﻌﻲ ﺸﺠﻭﻨﺎ ﻭﻏﻤﺎﺌﻡ ﹰ ﻭﺴﺄﺒﻜﻲ ﻭﺠﻤﺎل ﺍﻟﻘﻤـﺭ ﺫﺍﻜﺭﺍ ﺃﻨﻐﺎﻡ ﺃﻴﺎﻤﻲ ﻭﻁﻴﺏ ﺍﻟﺴﻤﺭ ﺃﻭ ﺘﻤﺴﻲ ﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺘﻲ ﺸﺎﻜﻴﺎﺕ ﻤﻥ ﻨﺤﻴﺒﻲ ﻤﻥ ﻴﻐﻨﻴﻨﻲ ﻭﻴﺴﻘﻴﻨﻲ ﺒﻜﻭﺒﻲ ﺇﻥ ﺭﺤﻠﺕ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺘـﺄﻥ ِ
- 21. ﻭﺘﺜﻨـﻲ ﻗﻑ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ * * * ﺃﻨﺕ ﻟﻠﺸﻌﺭ ﻭﻟﻠﺤﺏ ﺃﻏـﺎﻥ ﻭﺃﻤﺎﻨﻲ ِ ﻭﻟﻘﻠﺒﻲ،ﺃﻨﺕ ﻓﺠﺭ ﻟﺭﻗﻴﻘﺎﺕ ﺍﻷﻏﺎﻨﻲ ﻴﺎ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﺍﺭﻓﻕ ﺒﺼﺏ ﻻ ﺘﺫﺭ ﺩﻤﻌﻙ ﻴﺠـــــﺭﻱ ﻓﺼﺩﻯ ﺍﻵﻫﺎﺕ ﺤﻴﺭﺍﻥ ﺒﺼﺩﺭﻱ ﻓﺎﺒﺘﺴﻡ ﻟﻲ ﻗﺒل ﺃﻥ ﺘﺫﻫﺏ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻭﻟﺘﻜﻥ ﺁﺨﺭ ﻨﻅـﺭﻩ ﻀﺤﻜﺔ ﻓﺎﻀﺕ ﻤﺴﺭﻩ ﻭﺨﺫ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻨﻰ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﻭﻯ ﻟﻥ ﻴﺘﻬﻨﺎ ﻭﺍﺒﺘﺴﻡ ﻟﻲ ﺩﻭﻥ ﺃﻥ ﺘﻨﻅﺭ ﻟﻠﺩﻤﻊ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﻴﺏ ﻴﺎ ﻤﻨﻰ ﻨﻔﺴﻲ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﺃﺘﺭﻯ ﺘﻐﺩﻭ ﻨﺼﻴﺒﻲ؟!
- 22. ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴــﻪ ﻓﻌﺴﻰ ﺃﻥ ﺘﺠﺩﻱ ﺤﻅﻲ ﻓﻴــــﻪ ﻓﺸﻌﻭﺭﻱ..ﻟﺴﺕ ﺃﺩﺭﻱ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﺴﺭﻩ ﻏﺒﻁﺔ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ، ﺠﺭﺕ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﻋﺒﺭﻩ ﻤﻥ ﻟﺫﻴﺫ ﺍﻟﺩﻤﻊ، ﻋﺎﻑ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﺨﻤﺭﻩ ﺃﺒﻔﻨﺠﺎﻨﻙ ﻤﺎ ﻴﻔﺼﺢ ﺃﻤـــﺭﻩ؟ ﻓﺎﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴﻪ * * * ﻗﻠﺕ: ﻟﻲ ﻤﺴﺘﻘﺒل...ﻜﺎﻟﺯﻫﺭ ﻨﺎﻀﺭ ﻭﺴﻴﺒﻨﻲ ﻤﺠﺩﻙ ﺍﻟﻔﺫ ﻤﻔﺎﺨــــﺭ ﻭﺃﺭﻯ ﺫﻜﺭﻙ..ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻋﺎﻁـﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻓﻡ ﺍﻟﺩﻨﻴﺎ..ﺃﻏﺎﺭﻴﺩ ﺴﻭﺍﺤـــﺭ ﻓﺎﺫﻜﺭﻱ ﻟﻬﻔﺔ ﻭﺠﺩ ﻭﺍﺸﺭﺤﻴـــﻪ ﻭﺍﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴــﻪ * * * ﺃﻨﺎ ﻻ ﺃﺩﺭﻱ ﻟﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻗﺩ ﻋﺸﻘﺕ..! ﻭﺘﺤﻴﺭﺕ...ﻟﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻗﺩ ﺠﻬﻠﺕ..! ﺃﻓﺼﺤﻲ ﻟﻲ ﻟﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻭﺠﺩ ﺫﻫﻠﺕ؟! ِ ﻭﻟﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﺃﻨﺎ...ﻓﻲ ﺤﺴﻨﻙ ﻫﻤـﺕ؟!
- 23. ﻟﻡ ﺩﻭﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱ..ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﻴﺼﻁﻔﻴـﻪ؟! ﻓﺎﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴﻪ * * * ﻗﺩ ﺘﺤﻴﺭﺕ ﺒﺄﺴﺭﺍﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﻴــــﺎﻩ ﺤﻴﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﺘﺎﺌﻪ...ﻓﻲ ﻭﺴﻁ ﻓــﻼﻩ ﺩﻭﻨﻪ ﺍﻟﺩﺭﺏ...ﻭﻟﻜﻥ ﻻ ﻴـــﺭﺍﻩ ﻏﻠل ﺍﻟﻌﻘل، ﻓﺨﺎﻨﺘﻪ ﻗـــــﻭﺍﻩ ﻭﻋﻠﻰ ﺩﺭﺏ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﺃﺭﺸﺩﻴـــﻪ ﻓﺎﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴﻪ * * * ﻟﻡ ﻋﻴﻨﺎﻙ ﻫﻤﺎ ﺃﺼل ﺸﻘﺎﺌـــﻲ ﻭﻫﻤﺎ – ﻭﻟﻴﺴﻠﻤــﺎ- ﺒﻠﺴﻡ ﺩﺍﺌﻲ ﻭﻋﻼﻡ ﺍﺨﺘﻠﺴﺎ ﻤﻨﻲ ﻫﻨﺎﺌـــﻲ ﻓﻤﺘﻰ ﻴﺭﺤﻤﻪ...ﻁﻴﻑ ﺍﻟﺭﺠـﺎﺀ؟! ﺇﻴﻪ...ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺃﺨﺒﺭﻴﻪ ﻭﺃﻨﺼﻔﻴﻪ ﻓﺎﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﻴﺎ )ﻤﻲ( ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻴﻪ * * * ﻟﻡ ﻀﺎﻕ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﺍﺼﻁﺒﺎﺭﺍ؟! ﻭﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺸﻼﻩ، ﻗﺩ ﻨـﺎﺡ ﺠﻬـــﺎﺭﺍ ﻓﺒﻜﻰ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﺫل ﻤﻥ ﻭﺠﺩﻱ ﻤــﺭﺍﺭﺍ ﺃﻤل ﻓﻲ ﺃﻓﻕ ﺍﻟﺤﻠﻡ ﺘــــﻭﺍﺭﻯ ﺃﺘﺠﺎﻫﻠﺕ ﻫﻭﻯ ﻟﻡ ﺘﻌﺭﻓﻴــﻪ؟! ﻓﺎﻜﺴﺭﻱ..ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ..ﺇﻥ ﻟﻡ ﺘﻨﺼﻔﻴﻪ
- 24. ﺸﺎﻫﺩﺘﺎﻥ ﻨﺸﻭﺓ ﺍﻟﻌﻁﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺭﺒﻴﻊ ﻤﻨﺎﻫـﺎ ﺩﻓﻘﺎﺕ ﺘﺩﺍﻓﻌﺕ ﺘﺘﺒـــﺎﻫﻰ ﺘﺼﻑ ﺍﻟﻭﺠﺩ ﺯﺍﺨﺭﺍ ﺘﻴﺎﻫـــﺎ ﻭﺴﻌﺎﺭ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻐﺭﺍﻡ ﺴﺒﺎﻫـــﺎ ﺤﻴﻥ ﻤﺭ ﺍﻟﻐﺭﺍﻡ ﻗﺩ ﺃﻀﻨﺎﻫــﺎ ﻗﺩ ﺸﻜﺕ ﻟﻲ ﻭﺃﻜﺩﺕ ﺩﻤﻌﺘﺎﻫـﺎ
- 25. ﺍﻟﻬﻤﺴﺔ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺭﻯ ﻋﻤﺭ ﻴﻤﺭ ﺒﻼ ﻫﻨﺎﺀ ﺃﻭ ﺃﻤـﺎﻥ ﻤﺫ ﻤﺎﺘﺕ ﺍﻟﻨﺠﻭﻯ ﻭﺃﻨﻐﺎﻡ ﺍﻟﻐﺯل ْ ﻭﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﻁﺎل ﻭﻟﻡ ﺃﺯل ﺃﺸـﻜـﻭ ﻭﺃﻤﻸ ﻜﺄﺴﻲ ﺍﻟﻅﺎﻤﺊ ﺍﻟﺤﺯﻴـﻥ ﺩﻤﻌﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﺨﻴﻥ ﻓﻴﺒﺙ ﻟﻲ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻨــــﻰ ﺸﻭﻗﻪ ﻤﻌﻨـﻰ ﻭﻤﻌﻨــــﻰ ﻭﺘﻌﻭﺩ ﺫﻜﺭﺍﻱ ﺍﻟﺠﺭﻴﺤﺔ ﺘﺸﺘﻜﻲ ﻅﻤﺄ ﺍﻟﺸﺠﻭﻥ ﻭﺸﻌﺎﻋﻲ ﺍﻟﻜﺎﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﺯﻴـــﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻟﻭﻋﺔ ﺍﻟﺤـﺏ ﺍﻟﻤــﺫﺍﺏ ﻴﻁﻔﻲ ﺃﻏﺎﺭﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﺸﺒــــﺎﺏ ﺇﺫ ﻟﻡ ﺘﻌﺩ ﺫﻜﺭﺍﻱ ﻏﻴﺭ ﺼﺩﻯ ﺍﻷﻨﻴﻥ ﻤﺎﺘﺕ ﺃﻏﺎﺭﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﻌﺘــــﺎﺏ ﻭﺍﻟﻬﻤﺴﺔ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺭﻯ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺠﺭﺡ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺍﺏ
- 26. ﺘﺭﻨﻴﻤﺔ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﺯﻫﺭﺍﺀ ﺨﺭﺍﺌﺏ ﺍﻟﺯﻫﺭﺍﺀ ﺒﻌﻴﺩﺓ ﻋﻥ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﺭﺍﻥ ﻭﻻ ﻴﺯﻭﺭﻫﺎ ﺃﺤﺩ ﻭﻗﺩ ﺍﺴﺘﺄﺠﺭﺕ ﺴﻴﺎﺭﺓ ﺨﺎﺼﺔ ﻭﺫﻫﺒﺕ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻁﺭﻴﻘﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻭﻋﺭ ﻓﻭﺠﺩﺕ ﺍﻟﺯﻫﺭﺍﺀ ﺃﻁﻼﻻ ﻓﺒﺩﺩ ﺤﻀﻭﺭﻱ ﺼﻤﺕ ﺍﻟﺴﻨﻴﻥ. ﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺨﻁﺎﻩ ﻤﺠﻔﻼﺕ ﺠﺎﺀﻨﻲ ﻴﺴﻌﻰ ﻏﺭﻴﺒﺎ ﺒﺩﺩ ﺍﻟﺼﻤﺕ ﺍﻟﺭﻫﻴﺒﺎ؟ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺫﺭ ﺩﻫﺭﻱ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﺎ! ﻤﻥ ﺃﺘﺎﻨﻲ ﺒﻌﺩ ﺃﻥ ﺼﺭﺕ ﺭﻜﺎﻤﺎ ﻭﺤﺠﺎﺭﻩ؟ ﻋﺒﺜﺕ ﺃﻴﺩﻱ ﺯﻤـﺎﻥ ﻏﺎﺭﺓ ﺃﺘﺒـﻊ ﻏﺎﺭﻩ ﺤﺎﻗﺩ ﻴﺒﻐﺽ ﺭﻤﺯﺍ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﻤﻨﺎﺭﻩ ﻜﻨﺕ ﺭﻤﺯ ﺍﻷﻤل ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺏ ﻭﻫﻤﺴﺎﺕ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﺠﺒل ﺍﻟﻘﺩﺱ ﺸﻤﻭﺨﺎ ﻤﻸ ﺍﻟﺩﻨﻴﺎ ﺤﻨـﺎﻨﻲ ﹰ ﻗﺩ ﻏﺭﺴﻨﺎ ﻟﻬﻡ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﺒﺄﻨﻐﺎﻡ ﺤﻭﺍﻨــﻲ ﻓﺴﻘﻭﻨﺎ ﻏﺼﺹ ﺍﻟﺒﻐﺽ ﺒﺘﺩﻤﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺎﺓ ﻤﻥ ﺃﺘﺎﻨﻲ ﺯﺍﺌﺭﺍ ﺒﺩﺩ ﺼﻤﺕ ﺍﻟﺤﺴﺭﺍﺕ؟! * * * ﻟﻴـﺘﻪ ﺠﺎﺀ ﺒﻜﻭﺭﺍ ﻭﻤﻊ ﺍﻟﻔﺠﺭ ﺍﻟﺤﺒﻴﺏ ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﻓﻭﻕ ﺴﺭﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﻔل ﻤﻥ ﻨﺴﺞ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﻲ ﻤﺨﻤﻠﻲ ﺍﻟﺩﻑﺀ ﻤﺎ ﺃﺠﻤﻠﻪ ﺩﻑﺀ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﻭﺏ ﻭﻨﻭﺍﻓﻴﺭﻱ ﺠﺫﻟﻰ ﺒﻴﻥ ﻜﺄﺱ ﻭﺤﺒﻴـﺏ
- 27. ﻜﻨﺕ ﻗﺎﺭﻭﺭﺓ ﺃﺸﻭﺍﻕ ﻭﺇﻟﻬﺎﻡ ﻭﻁﻴــﺏ ﻜﻨﺕ ﻟﻠﺤﺏ ﻤﺭﻭﺠﺎ ﻋﻁﺭﺕ ﻜل ﺍﻟﺩﺭﻭﺏ * * * ﺃﻴﻥ ﻅﻠﻲ ﻭﻤﻴﺎﻫﻲ ﻭﺃﻏﺎﺭﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﻁﻴﻭﺭ؟! ﺒﺭﻋﻡ ﺍﻟﻭﺤﻲ ﺒﺄﺭﻀﻲ ﻓﻐﺩﺍ ﺍﻟﻌﻲ ﺨﻁﻴﺒﺎ ﺍﻟﻬﻡ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﺯﻑ ﺤﺒﻲ ﻓﻴﻐﻨﻴﻪ ﻀﺭﻭﺒـــﺎ * * * ﺃﻨﺎ ﻴﺎ ﺯﻫﺭﺍﺀ ﻗﺩ ﺠﺌﺕ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﺭﻕ ﺍﻟﻘﺼﻲ ﻋﺭﺒﻲ ﺠﺎﺀ ﻴﺤﺩﻭ ﺒﻐﻨﺎﺀ ﻋﺭﺒـــــﻲ ﺴﺎﻗﻪ ﺍﻟﺸﻭﻕ ﻟﻜﻲ ﻴﺴﺘﺎﻑ ﻤﻥ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﻨﺩﻯ ﻭﻴﺭﻭﻱ ﻅﻤﺄ ﺍﻟﻨﻔﺱ ﻓﺼﻠﻲ ﻭﺘﺒﺘــــل ﻓﺠﺜﺎ ﻓﻭﻕ ﺃﺭﻴﺞ ﻭﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺘﺭﺏ ﺘﻤﻬـــل ﺃﻨﺎ ﻟﻭ ﺃﺴﺘﻁﻴﻊ ﻗﺩ ﺴﺭﺕ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻷﺠﻔﺎﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺸﻭﻗﻲ ﺍﻟﻌﻤﻴﻕ ﻭﺯﺭﻋـﺕ ﺍﻟﺤـﺏ ﺃﺯﻫـﺎﺭﺍ ﻋﻠـﻰ ﻁﻭل ﺍﻟﻁﺭﻴــــﻕ ﺃﺒﻴـﺽ ﺍﻟﺴـﺤﺭ ﻜﻨﻭﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﻭﺯ ﻜﺎﻟﺜﻠﺞ ﺍﻟﺤﻘﻴﻘــــــﻲ ﻫﻜﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﺤﺏ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻤﻥ ﻗﻠﺏ ﺼﺩﻭﻕ ﺨﺎﻟﺩﺍ ﻤﺜل ﺨﻠﻭﺩﻙ ﺴﺎﺤﺭﺍ ﺴﺤﺭ ﻨﺸﻴﺩﻙ
- 28. ﺍﻟﻔﻬﺭﺴﺕ ﺍﻟﻤﻭﻀﻭﻉ ﺍﻟﻁﺒﻌﺔ ﺍﻟﺜﺎﻨﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﻘﺩﻤﺔ ﻏﺭﺍﻡ ﺸﻬﺭ ﺯﺍﺩ ﺤﺴﻨﺎﺀ ﻤﻥ ﺇﺒﺭﺩﻴﻥ ﺇﻟـﺯﺍ ﺴﻜﺴﻭﻨﻴﺔ ﺯﺍﻫﻴﺔ ﻤﻥ ﻫﺎﻤﺒﻭﺭﻍ ﺤﻴﺭﺓ.؟؟ ﺸﺎﻋﺭﺓ ﺍﻟﻬﻨﺩ ﻫﻤﺴﺔ ﺍﻟﺫﻜﺭﻴﺎﺕ ﺍﻗﺭﺌﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﻨﺠﺎﻥ ﺸﺎﻫﺩﺘﺎﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﻤﺴﺔ ﺍﻟﺤﻴﺭﻯ ﺘﺭﻨﻴﻤﺔ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﺯﻫﺭﺍﺀ ﺍﻟﻔﻬﺭﺴﺕ
- 29. Songs from Baghdad Yousif Izzidien
- 30. The Second Edition This collection of poems was already published in London. In 1982, The following three odds have been added to the previous edition: 1. Do you know? 2. Who will full my heart? 3. Because 4. My Love Mrs. thuraya Mahdi Allam has ably translated the poem"Murmurs of the Memories" into rhyme as well. In 1986 this poem appeared in a book entitled: Echose of Arabic Poetry in English Verse" It was published by the Egyptian General Association for Books in Cairo. The translator has selected one poem from a number of Arab poets of different times such as al- Khansa,al-Mutanabbi, al-Baroudi,Ahmed Shawqi,Mutran,Hafiz Ibrahim,Ali Mahmoud Taha,Salah Abd al-Sabour and other contemporary poets. The talented poet and engineer Wajdi Abo al-Riha, thankfully volunteered to set the collection, write its introduction and finally produce it. My special thanks are due to Mrs.Ruth B.Jones and Mrs.Joan Talbot Jones for their careful edition and through revision of this edition. On this occasion, I would like to repeat my deep gratitude to my venerable teacher Professor David Cown for writing the introduction which I consider to be a precious testimony for me. I am also grateful to my colleagues and friends who precisely and accurately translated the poems.
- 31. They are: Prof.E Bosworth, Dr.Rida Hawari, Izzat Abd Al-Majid Khattab, the brilliant professor Thurays mahdi Allam, G Murris and finally to my brother Dr. Qasim Al-Samarrai for his appreciated help in the translation and production of this edition. I hope the Arab reader, as well the English, would find it worth reading the wafts and melodies of Arabic poetry. I also hope that people of aesthetic delicate taste and those of hightened poetical sensitivity will enjoy it and be satisfied with its quality. Yousif Izzidien Wales – UK
- 32. Introduction The fertile and passionate land of Iraq has from time immemorial been the cradle and homeland of countless poets and singers who have been forced by the very air they breathe to express their feelings, passions and longings in sublime verse and song. Indeed, the number of poets (and poetesses) who grew up or who came from other lands to find inspiration there cannot be determined, for"many a rose is born to bloom unseen". Among the poets of modern Iraq an outstanding figure is Yousif Izzidien, some of whose passionate verse is reproduced elegantly in this book with felicitous English translations. These love verses lay bare his passionate and emotional nature which cannot but react strongly to human ties and experiences and respond to kindred souls. They portray deep, heart- felt emotions which a man of letters like Yousif Izzidien could no more conceal or fail to show than could be untrue to his whole and his love of his native land and all mankind. The reader will find in them a strong expression of a sensitive and loving nature which the world and all men of goodwill need to appreciate and respond to. May these verses give pleasure to all who read and experience them in English as in the original Arabic. Professor D. Cowan University of London
- 33. About The Poet The beautiful old town of Ba,quba in Iraq was the birthplace of the poet Yousif Izzidien. His childhood was spent in this capital centre of fruit farming, with its river winding through the city and where, in the Spring, the air is laden with the sweet scent of citrus blossom. He was brought up in a family of ancient lineage and pious Muslim tradition. His father had served as an officer in the Ottoman Army and later returned to Iraq during the British occupation. His involvement in an Arab revolt against the British caused him to be thrown into prison, his wealth confiscated. Following his release he lived and worked in reduced circumstances. His mother was typical of her generation in cultivating the traditional virtues of piety and kindness. She was an extremely intelligent woman who applied herself tirelessly to bringing up her family within very limited means. It was into this atmosphere of a strong tradition, pride in the past and reduced circumstances that the infant Yousif was born. It was from his father that the learned the melody of poetry. As they rode together through villages and orchards his father recited the many Bedouin poems that he had learned by heart. It was from his father also, as they started the day in the Mosque, in reading and prayer, that he gained a sense of the need for simplicity and goodness in life. His family came originally from Samarra, leaving it after a terrible battle, tales of which are still recounted from generation to generation. It is hardly surprising then that his early reading was of the wars
- 34. and battles of Imam Ali, wherein his heart was filled with pride and excitement at the courage of his forefather. His love of books took him away from playing with other children and the enjoyment of the friendship of his peers. In one sense he lived with an intense sense of loneliness, yet his reading gave him contact with the wider world and its hopes and aspirations. In order to continue his secondary education he had to live with relatives, away from his family. He felt keenly the lack of parental affection and support during this period, thus furthering a sense of loneliness, the need to be self-reliant and to carve out his own niche in life. His background and reading made him sensitive to the needs of the poor and the framers in his country, and to the divisions and occupation of Arab lands. He grew up in a generation that hated the occupation, that felt their dignity wounded by the intruder. It was natural, then, that as a young man at that time he had revolutionary tendencies, and that in his first poem and play be wrote of the backwardness in society and the problems of Palestine. He took his first degree in Alexandria and, while in Egypt. saw his poetry published in the newspapers. Returning to Baghdad with BA Honours, he continued to study for his MA under the supervision of Prof. Khalafallah. He took his Ph.D in London before to Baghdad to work in the University of Baghdad. He was invited by the chairman of the Iraqi Academy to work with him as Secretary, later becoming Secretary General. He is now working as Visiting Professor at King Sa,ud University (Riyad University). Yousif Izzidien is interested in all aspects of life likes to study every thing from the Qur,an and th Bible to Marx and the Thoughts of Chairman Mao.
- 35. His more mature philosophy of life is that a love of justice and a love of others are essential to life, dispelling hatred and bitterness of heart. He has found many friends all over the world, in Cairo, London, India, China, Moscow, Germany, Holland, Belgium, Tunisia and Greece. He counts these friend as a priceless fortune and says that" No amount of wealth equals its sweetness,. In spite of his smiling friendliness, however, there is another side to his nature – and it is often this other aspect of sadness and loneliness that is echoed in his poety. To read Professor Izzidien,s poems in their original Arabic version is at all times and extreme joy and a rewarding experience. His amazing command of Arabic and his use of fine detail are, more often than not, inimitable. Hence the extreme difficulty of translating Professor Izzidien into any other language. But, as translation is over the art approximation, the following poems try to capture, where possible, the delicate feelings of a sensitive poet, who has boundless resources at his disposal. The fine traits of his diction are indeed recurrent, but not repetitious. They reverberate from a troubled mind with a pulse of their own. The poet is indeed singular among contemporary poets, a phenomenon apart. In a novel he wrote in 1978, his was an aching Oriental ‘Traveller Heart’. In these poems it is pained and tortured, the secret being transparent, though unrevealed. As in real life, Professor Izzidien,s poetry, in its wider context, exudes the charm of his generous and receptive nature and the excellent personal relationships he cultivates and covets among friends and colleagues. Nothing in the circle of Professor Izzidien escapes his notice or remains for a long time
- 36. unutilized. Life and rat intertwine spontaneously everywhere in his poetry. Prof. R. Hawari King Saud University Acknowledgements Any book, even one of few pages, is the result of the effort and concern of many friends. For these few pages I should in particular like to thank Professors Bosworth, Hawari, Khattab, Morris, and Q-Al-Samarrai for their translations of the majority of these poems. I should also like to offer something more than an acknowledgement, although it must be posthumus, to my late and long-time friend, Mr. Fawzi, whose translations of four of these poems first appeared in K. Al-Salihi s study, Yousif Izzidien the Poet. I should also like to thank Professor David Cowan for his introduction to this volume, Professor Warren Stone for his help with the manuscript, Miss J. Cox and Miss T. Mahon Yousif Izzidien Kin Saud University 19 February, 1983
- 37. A Shahrazad Love-Song O, Shahrazad, the Curtain of night falls: Now let us enjoy visions of beauty. The tunics of virgins whirl: Regale us with the beauty of art., Sing of remembered embraces. Of lovers enveloped in the sense of time past; From palaces Oriental relate a tale To flood my passion with tears of the lute string. They lucid voice, of wanderer sublime, Ecstatic with beauty of a sweet dream. Thou hast, love-lorn, anointed love. And he, love-lorn, by your kindness, lives again. And I remonstrated with thee in loving dalliance. And a feeling brimful of noble love. The hopes of my fertile imagination Yearn for the dream of union after your farewell: They absence, ever a long affliction, And silent are my long nights. Blame not (Shahriar) for love, No succour could he obtain! Be thou then gentle to a poet whom Boundless memories of faithless love have pained, Whose love-song these now have stilled And deadened his poetic yearning; Who, brimful, her cup he had drained While she, too, broached fire-poison. His heart oriental in its yearning He never inclined to love profane.
- 38. Thy Yearning pulse, a fleeting tune. Has shaken his Heart,s hope of hopes. Remember him and sing his song: The music of life be in his love. Whenever a throe has shaken the heart, Which was wont to breathe the essence of love, A draining of his brimming cup like unto A flood of matchless worried plaints: Waxing restless and with his fleeting tunes, Hapless, the sweet Oriental essence, Bleeding of pain, and wafting of the scent, ‚ ‘Tis verily a loving heart tune: The poet s complaint does become his wine. The deep-delve’d wine of a damsel. Whose farewell made still-born his love And he in Baghdad, quaffing passionate love, Whose essence he dissipated upon its earth, There he sang a weeping song: From whence his verse envelops the universe. Translated by Professor R. Hawari King Sa’ud University
- 39. A Beauty From Aberdeen My well remembered days were, verily, The delight of love in a fascinating charm. When she was hanging on my shoulders, With her affection, bliss and bewilderment. Then she cast down her eyes and said: O darling you are the delight of my soul, You are my companion when I dream or hope. And the object of my yearnings. You keep peace I see your beloved shadow, Coming to me with a magic light. I love your native land full of magic. Revealed to my perplexed heart. Shall I come with you and meet the virgin moved with laughter? And companions swaying with love? O sweetheart! Take me there. I really will utter my sweetest songs. There I shall be like a hill. Which will be remembered by thirsting lips. And if you include me in your harem, My love for you defeats my fears. I shall sing to the East my tuneful songs. O my beloved, take me to your deserts And leave me lone companion of the stars There, I shall be the companion of your friends, And dazzled with the starts! Inspired with beauty of rhymes. You are my aspiration! I said to her, O my heart’s desire, confused with joys and sorrows. So very much in love with you,
- 40. In sadness tryst my wandering heart roams. In that instant, fresh white arms of magic Enfolded me, and lips were entangled. Ilsa How many kisses have I bestowed on your magic lips, Their tunes are still echo of strong desires. You were in my arms, dazed and wandering, in deep oceans of love, seeking no end. You are a fragrance, an elation, a rover’s song, You have dissolved me in your fine spirit, O breeze of songs, filled with strong desires. Your love kept me silent, And how much is gained from a speechless one! You are the sweetness, which filled my life with the scent of kisses, And the ecstacy of my love dreams. Drunk I am with your love and tuneful hope. O God, this is a moment of pleasure, it is agreeable enough to end my life. London 1956
- 41. The Saxon Beauty"Sylvia" O Freshness of Springtime, 0 smile of the age, O splendour of songs O beauty of life, 0 happiness on hopeful lips. The pride of beauty struts in your breast, as a beauty a-brim with vanity. Life boasts of you, and sings wonderful songs. * * * Your face radiates brightness like the eloquent prayers of a pious man. Houris in Paradise are far below you. You are but life in its majesty. The fragrant zephyr dances through the warm breezes, Ardently longing to mingle With you scented breath.
- 42. A Coquette From Hamburg Oh for the remembrance of those glorious times. The bitter sweetness of separation and agonies Troubles my passionate heart with grief and fears. O heart you are in love still. Though exhausted and subdued by dark hours. Woe to my heart! You do not repent your lovel! You are intoxicated by the smart gazelles. O for the days of our union! They were flooded with joy and love. How many a night, the happiness Of our love sang the magic chants! And drank with the wine from her mouth, And her lips were but my cups. O houri! Your sweet Conversation disperse my sorrows, And fills my soul with tenderness. When she passed by, she inflamed life with beauty, And swayed like unto a bough. Her beautiful features attract glances, And captivate hearts. She has hair like spun gold, Mixed with gaiety and tenderness. I surrendered to her beauty! When God made her so alluring I was not aware that the day of her farewell Would set my heart on fire. When she sighed in pain ‘Enough’ I cried ‘Tears in your eyes consume my hearts’. Tears were like pearls on her cheeks as she smiled
- 43. Flowing like unto pearls running down a silver ore. Then she said ‘Do you remember our happy days, How nice they were! They cannot be cloaked With forgetfulness’ And when she smiled through her tears, My eyes, too, with tears o’er flowed. She ceased weeping. And cast herself, as a child upon my knees. The flames burst in my burning breast. O God! May my lord Surround my love with happiness, And give her courage to forget me! At the leave taking, the train sighed deeply at my agony, Breathing out with the lovers’ breath! O train, stop! Do not carry away my soul, Be gentle with your precious one on board.
- 44. Perplexity Lovesick he is, and longing for you? Should he declare it, Or should it be revealed? But when he does reveal his love, you all reproach him. With heart inflamed and overcome with passion He hides his wounds, of which e’en the smallest hurt May you never feel my longing, nor be nourished on the pain I feel- Who makes a lover spend his nights awake, Yourself asleep. Why should a heart which cannot be cured Persist in its passion and in this sickness that you bring? Translated by G. Morris
- 45. The Poetess of India When asked by the famous Indian poetess Praphajout about the latent vein of sadness in his poetry, the poet answered: Oh, poetess of India, whose sweet scent Gave life to sentiments. Do you know what ‘Hind’ did to me? You say that all my poems are the ichor of my heart. What does a sorrowing man do when his love deserts him? My only fault is that I am truly in love with her, And love excites me deeply and leaves me A prey to loneliness. And whenever I address a poem to her, It is echoed by all, even the stones and pebbles. Oh, daughter of the Punjab, if I do complain Am I to be blamed? And my heart is full of sorrow. New Delhi th 6 January, 1964
- 46. Lure Of Memory Stay. 0 beloved before you depart A moment so as to see you And fill my eyes with your grace and art, To prolong the fervid stare at a masterpiece of beauty. Stay, 0 beloved You nourished my orchard with hop, Since we sipped the bedlamite kisses, Sweet as wishes, companions of kindness. Leave me not sipping alone in dull tiresome boredom, Surrounded by my injured feelings, Brooding in my slaughtered heart. Before parting forever, Stay. O my beloved. Behold our memories through which the breeze blows Innundated with kisses. A melody in enchantment that induces, Our lips delightedly aquiver with wine, Memories of love and happiness in an essence of dawn sweet full of bliss. Delighting the night with rapture which we exhausted With embraces and tenderness. We drank it is as a crimson wine. Our love made the night drunk. Then take these memories and chant, Before parting, O stay, my beloved.
- 47. I’ll not see the ducks sleeping in the brook, Chattering in the spring of youth with the breeze-song. With my tears the course of water will flow, With pain and agony. The beauty of the moon shall make me weep, Remembering the songs of my days and the sweetness of idle chatter. Will my memories complain of my weeping? Who will sing to me and give me my cup? If you depart today quietly and gracefully! Then stay, my beloved. For poetry and love you are songs and wishes. And for my heart you are the harbinger of fine song. O my beloved, be merciful to a lover. Let not your tears flow. The echoes of deep sighs are roving in my heart. So smile on me before you go. And let this be the last look, With a smile of remembered pleasures, Take this suffering heart, Which in the far loneliness will not be happy. And smile on me without seeing my helpless tears. O hope of my soul, Shall you be my fate? Translated Prof. C.E. Bosworth. University of Manchester Tell My Fortune From The Cup
- 48. Tell my fortune from the cup. 0 May, tell it. Perhaps you will find my luck therein. Today I can’t understand the mystery of my feeling. The pleasure of heart ran into tears at night. Because of luscious tears, the heart rejected its wine. Can your cup declare the matter? Tell my fortune from the cup, o May, tell it. * * * You said; ‘You’ll gave a future blooming like flowers’ ‘Your glory will build many glories’ ‘I see your reputation fragrant in the cup’ And the cup of the Universe it will be chanting songs. So, remember my sensational love and explain it, Ard tell my fortune from the cup, 0 May, tell it. * * * I don't why I fell in love with you. I am puzzled, why, I don't know. Please declare to me why in love I am confused! And why in love with you I am enamoured! Why, none other than you, my heart chooses. Tell my fortune from the cup, 0 May, tell it. I am dazzed by the secrets of life, Like one lost in a wilderness! Hid pathway is in front of him but the does not see it. His mind is fettered, so he becomes powerless. To the path of hopes, please guide him. Tell my fortune from the cup, 0 May, tell it. * * * Why are your eyes the source of my misery? And they are – God save them – the balsam of my ailment ? Why did they assassinate my happiness? When shall the dream of the hope be merciful to him? 0 May, please tell him and be just. Tell my fortune from the cup, 0 May, tell it. * * * Why did my heart lose its patience?
- 49. Why on my heart's remains did it openly wait? And the accuser wept repeatedly because of my passionate love. Any hope in the vision of a vanished dream? Why did you ignore the love you had known? 0 break the cup if you cannot be just him.
- 50. Two Wintesses O the sweet odour coming from the springtime of her desire. It flows gently and proudly, Speaking of the passion growing in her more and more, And the flam of her love bursting like a blaze. When the bitterness of love denied has moved her to complain And the two tears confirm.
- 51. The Bewildered Whisper No hope, No joy, My life passed in sighs Since sweet whisper And flirting tunes died And endless night persists, Whilst I still groan Again I refill my thirst-stricken cup And moan With my own feverish tears My lovelorn heart divulged its yearning then in Pain Notion after notion and my wounded memories back they turn? Beseeching the ever unabating grief And my dormant delight Melting in rapturous anguish In the whirl of love Extinguishing sorrowfully the songs of my youthful days My memories turned but as an echo Of an undying moan And the chants of remonstration Ceased to rise With the bewildered whisper on the wound of torment. Dr. Q-AI-Samarrai Leiden
- 52. A Hymn To Al-Zahra’ a The ruins of Al- Zahra’ a are distant from bustling life, and unvisited. The poet rented a car and went to see it, crossing unpaved roads, until he discovered its remains. The poet's presence dispersed its long silens What startled steps strangely coming Dissipating sheer silence? Time has dismantled all love! Who's coming to see me heaped stones? Ransacked by Time's incessant wars. Spiteful Time, hating love's lamplight. Monument of sweet hope I was, And desire's whisperings, Proud as Jerusalem's mount, The world overflowing tenderness With sweet melodies we've planted them love, but drank for recompense hateful cups, Destroying life. Who's coming to waste misery's silence? * * * Had he come in day's loving prime, when on the jasmine bed, Woven by love, I recline, Velvety of warmth, hearts’ lovely warmth, And my happy fountains among cups and lovers: Yearning's perfumer was I, and inspiration, For love meadows scented all alleys. Where are my shades, Waterfalls, bird-songs? In me inspiration burgeoned, the stammerer Thus flowed, My love inspired the player To sing it multifold. * * *
- 53. Zahra’ a, it's I, coming from distant East, An Arab coming to chant caravan melodies, Yearning-driven to inhale your holy incense, And quench soul's thirst, recluse-like praying, Kneeling over scents, slowing over dust. * * * Would I could, full of longing. Walk on eyelids, And plant love flowers the way along, Jasmine-white, genuine snow-white: Thus love, if spring from truthful hearts, Eternal is, in your eternity, Enchanting is , in your anthem. Translated by Dr. Ezzat A. Khattab Kinf Sa’ud University Riyad
- 54. Do You Know? Do you know or Don't you know The person in my mind? This person who inspires me by her face> Her face shining Her eyes talking with sweetness and kindness. Do you know or Don't you know The person who I mean? She is the song of beauty The melody of the heavens The hope of flowers Do you know or Don't you know The person that I mean? I am living in the autumn Leaves, yellow, on the ground. Fields barren, nothing growing, There will never be rich harvests from this land. Do you know of Don't you know Who gives me this breeze of spring? And revival of hopes?
- 55. Who Will Full My Heart? O! Maidens of the neighbourthood everywhere, Flower scents and affection spring, Grove birds in the eve and in the morn, Where has love disappeared in its tremors? Where has warmth in its longing gone? The sweet voice, The smiling lover, The music invoking hope, Faded away without a good-bye. Who will fill the heart with joy? Void is the world of sweet company; The universe stood still; The flowers wept; Warmth vanished; Affection has become homeless, Hovering with you, O sweetheart, Who will be my friend Now that I am lost, and weeping.
- 56. Murmurs Of Memories Remain beside me my beloved, before you bid farewell, A moment stay, so that I may see you, retain the spell, My eyes fill with your art and charms, Prolong my glowing gaze Upon your paragon of beauty that doth all amaze. Remain beside me my beloved, my heart is still ablaze. And thus with hope, my garden you did manage to revive. Since we did sip the madly passioned kisses so alive, As sweet as wishes and as tender, aye as intimate. Let me not sip alone in tedious boredom as I wait. Surrounded by emotions that are wounded yet vibrate Within my slayed and bleeding heart, in gloom to meditate. Before you leave me, and forever from me do depart. Remain beside me my beloved, or you will break my heart. The breeze doth through our recollections blow, Doth with enamoured kisses over flow, A melody of magic lure doth tempt invite. Our lips intoxicated quiver with delight. And blissful memories of love in fragrant dawn. Delicious, sweet with ecstasy do night adorn. In tender yearning and embracing, we thus spent the night, We drank it sparkling, by our love made it drunk in delight. So take these memories and chant, before you bid farewell. Remain beside me my beloved, oh do not break the spell! And never shall I see the ducks asleep upon the stream, That murmur with the tunes of breeze in spring of youth that gleams. Its water will flow from my tears of anguish and of pain, The beauty of the moon will make me sigh and weep again, Recalling melodies of days and fragrance of the eve In which we murmured happily; will recollections grieve? Complain of sobbing and of wailing that my heart to wrench. For who will ever sing to me, who will my thirst e er quench? So if you do intend today to leave in grace and peace, Remain beside me my beloved, my love will never cease.
- 57. To Poetry and to love, you are the wishes and the songs, The dawn of song of charm are you. To which my heart belongs, Have mercy on your lover, oh my dearest one, And do not let your tears flow freely hereupon. The echoes of the sighs so deep, now stray within my heart, So smile upon me my beloved, before you de depart. And let this last look be of laughter spilling its delight, Then take this anguished joyless heart to a far lonely flight. Upon me smile, yet notice not each hopeless futile tear, Shall you, hope of my soul, e er be my fate, my love sincere? Translated by Thoraya Mahdi Alam
- 58. Because Full of life now Because talk with you My spirit is Happy Because I discover you Darkness of my life it's now sunny Because I am happy Take my heart with you, O, honey Because I love you.
- 59. My Love A queen of beauty made met to say, Is this months April or May? I was astonished and asked why? Because I was wishing to My love happiness this day, I hope you will remember me, And in the new year send a letter to me, For you are the flower of my day.
- 60. CONTENTS Subg. The second edition Introduction About The Poet Acknowledgement A Shahrazad Love-Song A Beauty From Aberdeen Ιlsa The Saxon Beauty ‘Sylvia’ A Coquette From Hamburg Perplexity The Poetess Of India Lure Of Memory Tell My Fortune From The Cup Two Witnesses The Bewildered Whisper A Hymn To Al-Zahra a Do You Know Who Will Full My Heart? Murmurs Of Memories Because My Love
- 62. Professor Ιzzidien is a member of the Iraqi Academy, The Jordanian Academy, the Academy of Arabic Language in Damascus and the Academy of Arabic Language in India. He is also a member of the Royal Society of Comparative Literature.