The most beautiful poems of Al-Mutanabbi

The most beautiful poems of Al-Mutanabbi

Al-Mutanabbi’s poems are all beautiful, and they all combine wisdom, eloquence, beauty of images, and precision of expression. The people of the Maghreb called Muhammad bin Hani Al-Andalusi Al-Mutanabbi of the West, and likewise the Persians called Saadi Al-Shirazi Al-Mutanabbi of the Persians, and the Indians also called Tagore Al-Mutanabbi of India. And all of this, if it indicates something, indicates his status. The great Al-Mutanabbi, and up to the present time, all the great contemporary poets consider him to be at the undisputed head of Arabic poetry.

Perhaps the following verses contain a reflection of the beauty of his poems, which are all beautiful:

And whose hearts are warmest among those whose heart is phimosis. “And whoever has sickness in my body and condition.”

“Why should I hide a love that has healed my body” and you claim to love the sword of the nation state

If there is love that brings us together because of his jealousy, then I wish we would share as much love as we do.

I visited him with the swords of India sheathed. “And I looked at him with the swords blood.”

So he was the best of all of God’s creation* “And he was the best of the best of good deeds.”

“The enemy whom you have defeated is defeated.” There is “sorry” in its fold, yes.

You have become very afraid, and you have pretended, “You are feared, but you do not act like fools.”

You have obligated yourself to do something that it is not obligated to do...that it will not give them any land or knowledge.

Whenever you attack an army and it flees, you are disposed of in its wake.

You have to defeat them in every battle...and you have no shame on them if they are defeated.

Do you not see a sweet nail other than a fingernail on which the Indians’ whites and lions shook hands?

O the most just of people, except in your dealings with me... there is discord in you, and you are the adversary and the judge.

I seek refuge with sincere looks from you... lest you consider fat among someone whose fat is a tumor.

What is the benefit of my brother in this world to his beholder... when light and darkness are equal to him?

I am the one who made the blind look at my teaching... and the deaf made my words heard.

I sleep with my eyelids full of its strays... and creation stays awake and disputes.

And an ignorant person prolonged his ignorance with my laughter... until a sharp hand and a mouth came to him.

If you see the lion's teeth sticking out...do not think that the lion is smiling.

Those who are too dear to us to part with...our feelings are nothingness after you.

We would not have created any of you with any honor... if your matter had been one of our matters, nations.

If your secret is what our envier said... then what is the cause of injury if it pleases you?

These are other verses from Al-Mutanabbi’s beautiful and immortal poems:

What is to blame is greater than what is to be blamed... and his actions speak louder than words.

My arms and the desert without a guide... and my face and the wilderness without a curse.

I find comfort in this and this... and I get tired with the groaning and the standing.

The eyes of my wanderings, if my eyes are troubled... and every migratory cloud is my clouds.

I return to the waters with no guidance...except for them the flashing of the clouds.

He is censured for attacking my Lord and my sword... if the only one needs censure.

I will not be a guest of miserly people... and there are no villages but ostrich brains.

And when people's friendliness became lost... I rewarded a smile with a smile.

I began to doubt whom I should choose... because I knew that he was some kind of person.

Among his immortal poems are:

Do not buy slaves unless they have a stick with them. Slaves are evil and evil.

I never thought I would live for a time in which a servant would do me wrong while he was praiseworthy.

I did not imagine that people were lost... and that someone like Abu Al-Bayda existed.

And the black, pierced one is his cipher... the thunder-clad one obeys him.

Hungry, he eats from my provisions and holds me... so that it may be said that great destiny is intended.

And he will blame her with a plan, and he will blame her.. For like her, the Mahriyah was created.

And then the taste of death will be delicious for the one who drinks it.. Indeed, death at the time of humiliation is a gnat

Who taught a castrated black person to be honorable...his white people or his fathers’ hunting?

Or is his ear bloody in the hands of the slaver... or will his value, while he is in the two farthings, be returned?

The first mean person is a quiffer with an excuse...in all meanness and some excuses there is a refutation

This is the tip of the iceberg of the masterpieces of Abu al-Tayyib al-Mutanabbi’s poetry.