A Bowing in the Realm of Longing
By Ahmed Al-Ma’rassi
translated by
Hatem Al-Shamea
I.
The throne of beauty is the radiance of your beauty
And the moon is a meaning for your perfection
Your dew is the first surprise
In the unknown, the paths are obscure
Your meanings have exhausted the imagination
So how can we tell of your majesty?
II.
And Mecca looms like a state
That flowed from the eyes of a traveler
And polytheism calls out with guidance:
My rock longs for your Bilal
One! And the Chosen One said:
In paradise, there is a trace of your slippers.
III.
Taha, the meanings of the universe
Pour the astonishment of meaning into your state
And I am the path for a camel
Alquswa (the Farthest One) that longs for your journey
And a state says in my blood:
Its meaning has not crossed your mind
Taha, a fragrant breeze
Every path longs for it
A name that was revealed with majesty
To the eyes of Moses from your mountains
So take off the shoes of a poem
That came running in your sands
We will recite a verse of poetry
A lover beyond your tolerance
IV.
Taha, the orbits of a presence
White, shining from within you
Taha.. And a muezzin said
In the unseen: the kingdom of kingdoms
Taha, and the echo told us
The sun is a specter of your crescent
O Chosen One of actions, we
Do not understand the core of your acts
You are still the secret of an answer
Perplexed, searching for your question
V.
And (Siraqah) passes through my consciousness
Stop where you are, O (son of Malik)
My soul is there, a dove
White, smiling at the dangers
O day of Badr, I wish
I had broken my chest with your arrows
O day of Badr, every morning
Does not see the chosen one in your state
VI.
Taha, the stations of beauty
So excuse your consciousness from your imagination
And fold your hands to the wing
Of wisdom, do not fear the fire of your emotion
And extend your right hand, it is…
And forget existence at your left
Time has stopped here, so
Leave the prison of your body from your shadows
The throne of love is that
The Chosen One is the meaning of your deeds.
VII.
O Qiblah of the world, your lover
Is perishing in the deserts of sin
He knew the law and the truth
And the young man is still that
Visit me, I ransom you, do not be absent
My soul longs for your company.
The Quarantine Philosopher – Wajdi Al-Ahdal – trans. Hatem Al-Shamea
