lamentations

Poetry of lamentation

Lamentation poetry is considered one of the arts of Arabic poetry, and it has been present since pre-Islamic times until our days. There are three types of lamentation, which are: lamentation, eulogy, and condolence. There are many poetic poems in which poets lament their loved ones, their homelands, or any other form of lamentation. In this article, we will mention some of them.

I complain to God, for he has praised me as he complained

Qais bin Dhurayh, also called Majnun Lubna, due to his intense love for her. He was born in 625 AD. He wrote this poem in eulogy for his beloved Lubna.

I complain to God that I have lost my son as he complained

To God, he lost his parents and is an orphan

An orphan whose body has been dried up by relatives

He is thin and the covenant of his parents is old

Their home wept at their end and rejoiced

Tears, which of those who cry do I blame?

Am I in despair, crying out of longing and passion?

As for him, he fell down crying his grief and wandering

I was irritated by the love of Lubna Alleeq

And there are types of love whose love is great

And whoever has his heart attached to Lubna’s love

He dies or lives as long as he lives, and he is eloquent

Even if I agree with you, I will be very grateful to you

In the covenant between us, there is no one to stay

And the time has separated us

And between you is the enemy therein

Is it true that your heart is empty?

It is true, and my heart is weak in your desires

my dad

Nizar Qabbani is a contemporary Syrian poet and diplomat who has many collections and poems. Here, the woman’s poet eulogizes his father.

Your father died

I stray my father does not die

At home from him

The scents of a Lord and the remembrance of a Prophet

Here are his things

It split from a thousand young branches

His newspaper is Tabukha Mutikah

As if my father had not gone yet

And the dish and cup of ashes

As he is, he has not yet drunk

And his glasses were set of glass

Our eyes are better than Morocco

His remains, in spacious rooms

The Eagles remain on the field

I round the corners on it, so where

I pass by on a grassy lawn

I tighten his hands and lean on him

I pray on his tired chest

My father still had a conversation between us

Talk of cups on the bar

He forgives us for pregnant varicose veins

Breeding from his good mouth

My father was news from heaven

The meaning of “the most welcoming” is “the most welcoming.”

My father's eyes are a shelter for the stars

Does the East remember my father’s eyes?

I remember the summer from my father

Chrome and the memory of the planet

My father, my father, it is a good history

He walks behind you, so do not worry

We go in your name, who is good?

Free delicacy to the best

I carried you in the wake of my eyes until

Make people aware that I am my father

I call you out even with the tone of my voice

So how did you go and you are still with me?

If the maid of the house is given to us

There are a thousand golden mouths in the house

We opened our doors to Tammuz

In the summer my father must come

Glory is upon him

Al-Khansa’a was a veteran companion and poet who understood pre-Islamic times and Islam, converted to Islam, and became famous for her poems of lamentation because she lost her brothers Sakhr and Muawiyah, who were killed in pre-Islamic times, and in this poem she laments her brother Sakhr.

Oh my eye, what is the matter with you that you do not cry overflowing?

When eternity passed, and eternity was uncertain

So cry for your brother, for the orphans and the widow

And make your brother cry when you are close to strangers

And make your brother cry because he is as nervous as a cat

When they fled, they fled and plundered

A swimmer rushes by with his mounts

Cloaked in the black of the night

Until he becomes a group of people to fight against

Or they will be plundered without the ranks of the people

He is the perfect boy who protects his truth

The shelter of a stranger if he comes in distress

He guides the people when their path is straitened

The night sighed because it was difficult to move

Glory is its cause and generosity is its cause

Honesty is his possession, even though his horn is weak

A speech at a dark conference

If he fears a dilemma, he will provide a door for it

A bearer of valleys, a sector of valleys

An effective testimony for students to perform the witr prayer

The poison of the enemy and the jaws of the stubborn, then

He met the attack and had no fear of death

For my life, I have longed for Tamim and guided her

Jarir, a poet of the Umayyad era, was born and died in Najd, and in this poem he laments Al-Farazdaq.

For my life, he has made Tamim angry and has guided her

On the calamities of eternity, the death of Al-Farzadq

On the evening of the evening, they went to see his coffin

To a deep place in the abyss of the earth

They left in the grave who belonged

To every star in the sky flying

The burden-bearing refuge from every debtor

And the stinging devil of the thick clouds

Imad Tamim, all of it and its tongue

Its speaker is extravagance in every logic

Who has relatives after Ibn Ghalib?

For a neighbor and a helper bound in chains

And who is an orphan after the death of Ibn Ghalib

The mother of the children of Saghbin and Dardaq

And who releases prisoners and who spares blood

His hands heal Harran's convulsed chest

How much precious blood did you bear the weight of?

He was loads of loyalty and honesty

How a mighty fortress is Hammam and a market.

When he came, its doors would not be closed

The gates of kings open before him

Without a veil or flattery

Let mankind and jinn cry over him when he died

A harmful boy in both the West and the East

A boy who lived to build glory for ninety years

And he ascended to good deeds and glory

He did not die until he left behind him

In the neighborhood of Wadi Sawla, undisturbed

Oh Abu Faisal

Ghazi Al-Gosaibi is a Saudi poet, writer, diplomatic ambassador, and minister. In this poem, he laments King Fahd bin Abdulaziz.

We did not find him, and this separation was said

So she took refuge in her tears

The eyes were filled with a leopard and a mouth

Hajjah is an eye that sheds no tears

The coffin was astonished by the stillness of the prisoner

He is the one who lived and did not gain any trust

The grave was amazed when it contained what

His horizons have narrowed

The race is strange and the horses are few

How does his horse like to race?

The crowds roared around you and passed away

Like a sea, necks turned

It is a day of fulfillment, love with sadness

We follow him and the cups are gone

Death stood in the way, however

She crawled, not afraid of longing

O Abu Faisal, may God’s peace be upon you

There is no longing in the hearts

I find that your eyes do not sleep

Abu Bakr Al-Siddiq is the first of the Rightly Guided Caliphs, and one of the ten promised Paradise. He is the minister of the Messenger, may God bless him and grant him peace, and his companion and companion in the migration to Medina. In this poem, he laments our Messenger Muhammad, peace be upon him. I find that your eyes never sleep

As if her eyelids contained words

Because of a great and majestic calamity

And the tears of the eyes are the easiest harmony

We were shocked by the Prophet and he was among us

Imam of dignity, what an imam

He was our strength and our head

Today we have no standing

We cry and complain about what we have encountered

He complains about missing the Sacred City

It is as if our noses were very tight

Because Muhammad was lost in it

Because he tempted a white Hashemite

The completion of a prophecy, and with it the conclusion

Amen, chosen for goodness, calling

Like the light of the full moon, the darkness disappears

I will follow his guidance as long as I live

All the time, the doves did not sleep

I adhere to his religion and to every nation

You see them as a system

We have lost the revelation since you left us

And God entrusted us with the words

Except what you have left for us as a hostage

The honorable Qartis inherited it

You have bequeathed to us an inheritance of truth

Greetings and peace be upon you

From the Most Gracious in the highest heaven

From Paradise, a good place for her

Your father Abraham's companion there

Do we have any regrets in his company?

And Isaac and Ishmael in it

Because they prayed to their Lord and fasted

So do not go far, for every noble people

He will understand it even if he hates pigeons

It is as if the earth flew on it after you

Then Dharam, its resident, ignited it

my dad

Mahmoud Darwish is a Palestinian poet. He has many poems, and in this poem he laments his father.

Turn a blind eye to the moon

He bowed and embraced the earth

And he prayed

For a sky without rain

And he forbade me to travel

Lightning ignited his valleys

There was my father

He raises stones

From ancient and creates trees

His skin was dewy

His hand is a tree leaf

So the horizon cried a song

Odysseus was a knight

Loaves were in the house

And wine and linens

And horses and shoes

And my dad once said

When he prayed on a stone

Turn a blind eye to the moon

Beware of the sea and travel

The day the god flogs his servant

I said, O people, we disbelieve

My father narrated to me that he had stepped on his buttocks

In dialogue with agony

Job was thankful

Creator of worms and clouds

He created a wound for me

No dead person or idol

Exhaustion of the wound and pain

And I mean remorse

A planet passed on the horizon

descending descending

And it was my shirt

Between fire and wind

And my eyes think

Drawings on the ground

And my father once said:

who has no homeland

What has a shrine in the ground

He forbade me from traveling