Middle Eastern Poetry
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Hello dear stranger. This blog is a sanctuary - a sanctuary for the long forgotten. It contains a collection of poems from the Middle East. Do not be surprised by what you read. Do not despair. Keep an open mind. Enjoy. hit counter
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The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep! People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch; the door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep. - Rumi
The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep! People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch; the door is round and open. Don’t go back to sleep. - Rumi
It’s too bad if a heart lacks fire, and is deprived of the light of a heart ablaze. The day on which you are without passionate love is the most wasted day of your life.

I pray you tell. Am I the only one who feel such sorrow? All these Ancient poems, filled with wisdom, truth and beauty. And look at us now - 

What on earth has happened to our beloved Middle East?  

Protect thou the orphan whose father is dead; brush the mud from his dress, ward all hurt from his head. Thou knowest not how hard his condition must be; when the root has been cut, is there life in the tree? Caress not and kiss not a child of thine own, in the sight of the orphan neglected and alone. If the orphan sheds tears who his grief will assuage? If his temper should fail him who cares for his rage? O see that he weep not, for surely God’s throne doth quake at the orphan’s most pitiful moan! With infinite pity, with tenderest care, wipe the tears from his eyes, brush the dust from his hair. No shield of parental protection his head now shelters; be thou his protector instead. - Saadi
Protect thou the orphan whose father is dead; brush the mud from his dress, ward all hurt from his head. Thou knowest not how hard his condition must be; when the root has been cut, is there life in the tree? Caress not and kiss not a child of thine own, in the sight of the orphan neglected and alone. If the orphan sheds tears who his grief will assuage? If his temper should fail him who cares for his rage? O see that he weep not, for surely God’s throne doth quake at the orphan’s most pitiful moan! With infinite pity, with tenderest care, wipe the tears from his eyes, brush the dust from his hair. No shield of parental protection his head now shelters; be thou his protector instead. - Saadi

(Source: stevemccurry.com)

Since the day I may join my beloved is nowhere in sight, slowly i turn away from this love.  Impossible!” my heart cries out. It shakes its head and smirks at my sad plight. 

(Source: xavierstea)

If someday a delegate comes to my land and asks me: “Where is the grave of the Unknown Soldier here?” I will tell him: “Sir, on the bank of any stream. In the bend of any Mosque. In the shade of any home. On the threshold of any church. At the mouth of any cave. In the mountains of any rock. In the gardens of any tree. In my country, on any span of land, under any cloud in the sky. Do not worry. Make a slight bow, and place your wreath of flowers.
If someday a delegate comes to my land and asks me: “Where is the grave of the Unknown Soldier here?” I will tell him: “Sir, on the bank of any stream. In the bend of any Mosque. In the shade of any home. On the threshold of any church. At the mouth of any cave. In the mountains of any rock. In the gardens of any tree. In my country, on any span of land, under any cloud in the sky. Do not worry. Make a slight bow, and place your wreath of flowers.
I have estimated the influence of Reason upon Love and found that it is like that of a raindrop upon the ocean, which makes one little mark upon the water’s face and disappears. - Hafez 
I have estimated the influence of Reason upon Love and found that it is like that of a raindrop upon the ocean, which makes one little mark upon the water’s face and disappears. - Hafez 
If you hope for a moment of peace in love, you don’t belong in the ranks of lovers here.
If you hope for a moment of peace in love, you don’t belong in the ranks of lovers here.
I am filled with you. Skin, blood, bone, brain, and soul. There’s no room for lack of trust, or trust. Nothing in this existence but that existence. 
I am filled with you. Skin, blood, bone, brain, and soul. There’s no room for lack of trust, or trust. Nothing in this existence but that existence. 
God is busy with the completion of your work, both outwardly and inwardly. He is fully occupied with you. Every human being is a work in progress that is slowly but inexorably moving toward perfection. We are each an unfinished work of art both waiting and striving to be completed. God deals with each of us separately because humanity is fine art of skilled penmanship where every single dot is equally important for the entire picture.
God is busy with the completion of your work, both outwardly and inwardly. He is fully occupied with you. Every human being is a work in progress that is slowly but inexorably moving toward perfection. We are each an unfinished work of art both waiting and striving to be completed. God deals with each of us separately because humanity is fine art of skilled penmanship where every single dot is equally important for the entire picture.
I behold graves of ancient time, of days long past, wherein a people sleeps the eternal sleep. There is no enmity among these folk. No envy. No loving of neighbour and no hating. And my thought, envisioning them, cannot discern master from slave. - Moses Ibn Ezra
I behold graves of ancient time, of days long past, wherein a people sleeps the eternal sleep. There is no enmity among these folk. No envy. No loving of neighbour and no hating. And my thought, envisioning them, cannot discern master from slave. - Moses Ibn Ezra