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jannah
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« Reply #50 on: Oct 09, 2008 03:35 PM »

Loved this description:
Quote
We are in the year 400 of the Hijrah. On the southern slopes of Jebel al-Arus, the Bride's Mountain, the marble, jasper and precious metals of the city of Madinat al-Zahra gleam in the morning sun among silver-leafed olive groves. Bronze griffins, lions and horses pour mountain water into thousands of marble fountains. In the shade of cypresses and palm trees and around huge reception halls, dream gardens form multi-coloured carpets, mixing myrtle and rosemary, oleanders and tuberoses, lilies and roses. From the caliph's palace, located on the highest of the three terraces, the view extends over the whole Wadi al-Kabir valley and, in the far distance, five kilometres to the east, the large city of Cordoba can be seen.
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« Reply #51 on: Dec 15, 2008 08:09 AM »

More from Ibn Zaidun and his love:

Indeed I remembered you yearningly as you were in az-Zahra',
when the horizon was clear and the face of the earth was
shining,
And the breze had a languor in its evening hours as if it had
pity for me, and languished out of compassion.



[Here he sets spiritual love above the physical:]


Make open display of loyalty even if you do not geerously
accord me a love union; yet a dream image will satisfy us and a
remembrance will suffice us.



Ubada al Qazzaz describes his beloved in a few brief but masterly strokes in which each image is heightened by the rhyme, and coincinces with a segment of the line:

A full moon, a midday sun, a stem on a sand dune, fragrant
musk;
None more full, none brighter, none more leafy, none more
fragrant.





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« Reply #52 on: Dec 15, 2008 08:40 AM »

ELEGY FOR LOST KINGDOMS AND RUINED CITIES IN HISPANO-ARABIC POETRY

Zubair Mohammad Ehsanul Hoque*

‘Elegy, in classical literature, was any poem composed of elegiac distiches, also known as elegiacs, and the subjects were various: death, war, love and similar things. The elegy was also used for epitaphs and commemorative verses, and very often there was a mourning strain in them. However in English literature, it is only since the 16th c. that an elegy has come to mean a poem of mourning for an individual or a lament for some tragic events.3] In the later periods, this branch flourished more steadily, as can be seen in al-Buhtari’s (821-897) elegy for Sasanid kingdom of Persia in his illustrious ‘Siniyyah’ and in ‘Amar ibn ‘Abd al-Malik al-Warraq’s elegy for Baghdad, when Tahir ibn Husain, the commander of the Abbasid Caliph al-Mamun’s (r. 813-833) army, destroyed the Abbasid capital during the time of civil war between the latter and his brother al-Amin (r. 809-813). The Iraqi city of al-Basra was mourned by the great Arab philosopher poet Ibn al-Rumi (835-896) when the Zanj rebel devastated the port city in between 870 and 883 AD.[4]

With the commencement of Muslim rule in Spain (711 AD) the Arab poets started composing poems in the new land of Islam. Despite their imitation of eastern Arab poets, especially those of Baghdad, the Spaniard Arab poets renovated some dimensions in Arabic poetry; mainly in the field of depicting nature and mourning the lost kingdoms and destroyed cities. The natural climate of Spain was totally different from that of the long land captured by the Arabs. It was temperate, its land was fertile, there was no desert; so the peninsula was the most blooming of Islamic patches. The whole Spain appeared as a prolonged garden where rivers and canals flowed. As the poets were among the most sensational figures of the society they depicted the beauty of nature which appeared wholly different from the desert-based nature-portrayal of eastern Arab poets. Another domain of poetic expression refurbished by the Spanish Arab poets was the subject of elegy. As we exposed earlier that elegy for lost kingdoms existed in Arabic poetry from the Jahilite era. However, elegy for spoiled cities emerged in Abbasid Arabic poetry. But the elegies of Spanish Arab poets for their wrecked cities and lost kingdoms surpassed the same field of their eastern counterparts. Since they bore honest ardor for their country and were madly in love with its natural beauty, it was intolerable for them to see the fall of the cities of their beloved country one after another in the hand of infidel enemies. As a result, elegy for fallen cities and collapsed kingdoms appeared in their poetry spontaneously.[5]

This branch of Hispano-Arabic poetry is of great value, as it contains valuable historical elements. In their elegies for the ruined cities and lost kingdoms the Spaniard Arab poets registered several historic events which contributed much in determining the fate of the Muslim states of Iberian Peninsula. In this paper, I will focus on the contribution of Spanish Arab poets to the field of city-elegy.

Elegy for ruined cities in Hispano-Arabic poetry

The elegy for spoiled cities appeared for the first time in Hispano-Arabic poetry immediately after the civil war which destroyed the capital of Umayyad Spain, Cordova, and brought an end to the Umayyad Caliphate in Spain to bring the era of ‘petty dynasties’ at the beginning of the 11th century AD. This branch of Hispano Arabic poetry reached its apogee when the Spanish cities, which had been governed by the petty kings, were fallen one after another to the hand of the Christians rulers of Spain and Almorabit dynasty of Morocco at the end of the same century. Almost every petty royal court was graced by the presence of poets. When a city or a dynasty was fallen to the hand of the Christian or Moroccan conquerors, the court poet mourned his benefactor crying for the lost city and depicting the misery of people around him.

 Elegies for devastated Cordova:

Cordova (Ar. Qurtuba), the Umayyad capital in Spain, was the first city which experienced bloody civil war among various rebel groups and the ruling authority. At the beginning of the 11th century AD Cordova became the playground of a gory civil war among the power-loving Berbers, Arabs, and Slaves (Saqalibah), which brought an end to the Umayyad Caliphate in Spain. Consequently, the glorious Umayyad palaces in Cordova were devastated; countless people including some notable men of letters like Abu al-Walid al-Fardi, the writer of the illustrious book of history ‘Tarikh al-‘Ulama wa al-Ruaat li al-‘Ilm bi al-Andalus, were killed; thousands of Cordovans fled to neighboring cities or more far to Morocco and Egypt. Panic gripped the inhabitants of the city in such a way that they asked Malikit scholars to pray ‘Isha earlier than usual so that they could return home safely from the attack of Berber thieves.[6]

The poet Ibn Shuhaid (992-1035) was among the noble denizens of the destroyed Cordova. The misery and desolation which came upon Cordova and its inhabitants made him sad. So, in his poetry, he cried for his beloved city, splendors of which had gone. Ibn Shuhaid says depicting the state of the ruined city:[7] 


[As the Arabic text doesn't come out I've saved the html. Download and continue reading!]
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« Reply #53 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:09 AM »

One of the beautiful things about Andalusia under the Muslims is that it was a flourishing tolerant society of all faiths and a golden age for Jews as well.

Here are a few poems on Andalusia from famous Jewish poets there of that time period:

Code:
Abu Ishaq ibn Khafaja (d. 1139), excerpt from a poem

Translated from the Arabic and excerpted in Brann,
“Judah Halevi,” in Menocal et al., eds., The literature of al-Andalus.

A garden in al-Andalus has
unveiled beauty and a lush scent.

The morning glistens from its teeth
and the night is overshadowed by its scarlet lips.

When the wind blows from the East
I cry: O how I long for al-Andalus!




Code:
Solomon ibn Gabirol (1021/2 - ca. 1055),
from “The palace and the garden”

Translated from the Hebrew by Raymond P. Scheindlin.
Excerpted from Maria Rosa Menocal,
“Visions of al-Andalus,” in Menocal et al., eds.,
The literature of al-Andalus (Cambridge, 2000).


Come, spend a night in the country with me,
my friend (you whom the stars above would gladly call their friend),
for winter's finally over. Listen
to the chatter of the doves and swallows!
We'll lounge beneath the pomegranates,
palm trees, apple trees,
under every lovely, leafy thing,
and walk among the vines,
enjoy the splendid faces we will see,
in a lofty palace built of noble stones.

Resting solidly on thick foundations,
its walls like towers fortified,
set upon a flat place, plains all around it
splendid to look at from within its courts.

Chambers constructed, adorned with carvings,
open-work and closed-work,
paving of alabaster, paving of marble,
gates so many that I can't even count them!
Chamber doors paneled with ivory like palace doors,
reddened with panels of cedar, like the Temple.
Wide windows over them,
and within those windows, the sun and moon and stars!

It has a dome, too, like Solomon's palanquin,
suspended like a jewel-room,
turning, changing,
pearl-colored; crystal and marble
in day-time; but in the evening seeming
just like the night sky, all set with stars.
It cheers the heart of the poor and the weary;
perishing, bitter men forget their want.
I saw it once and I forgot my troubles,
my heart took comfort from distress,
my body seemed to fly for joy,
as if on wings of eagles.

There was a basin brimming, like Solomon's basin,
but not on the backs of bulls like his --
lions stood around its edge
with wells in their innards, and mouths gushing water;
they made you think of whelps that roar for prey;
for they had wells inside them, wells that emitted
water in streams through their mouths like rivers.

Then there were canals with does planted by them,
does that were hollow, pouring water,
sprinkling the plants planted in the garden-beds,
casting pure water upon them,
watering the myrtle-garden
treetops fresh and sprinkling,
and everything was fragrant as spices,
everything as if it were perfumed with myrrh.
Birds were singing in the boughs,
peering through the palm-fronds,
and there were fresh and lovely blossoms--
rose, narcissus, and saffron --
each one boasting that he was the best,
(though we thought every one was beautiful).
The narcissuses said, “We are so white
we rule the sun and moon and stars!”
The doves complained at such talk and said,
“No, we are the princesses here!
Just see our neck-rings,
with which we charm the hearts of men,
dearer far than pearls.”
The bucks rose up against the girls
and darkened their splendor with their own,
boasting that they were the best of all,
because they are like young rams.
But when the sun rose over them,
I cried out, “Halt! Do not cross the boundaries!”



Code:
Judah Halevi, “To the Western Wind”

Translated from the Hebrew by T. Carmi,
in The Penguin Book of Hebrew Verse
(New York, 1981): 350-51.

This wind of yours, O West, is all
perfume -- it has the scent of spikenard
and apple in its wings. Wind, you come
from the storehouse of spice-merchants,
and not from the common storehouse
of winds. You lift up the swallow's
wings, you set me free, you are like the
purest perfume, fresh from a bunch of
myrrh. Everyone here longs for you; by
your good graces, they ride over the sea
upon a mere plank. Oh, do not abandon
the ship, when the day draws to its end
or when it begins. Smooth out the
ocean, break a path through the sea
until you reach the holy mountains, and
there subside. Rebuke the east wind
that whips up the sea and turns it into
a boiling cauldron.

But how can the wind help, for it is a
prisoner of the Rock -- sometimes held
back and sometimes let loose? Only
God can grant my deepest wish: for He
is the maker of high mountains and
the creator of winds!
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« Reply #54 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:23 AM »

This is a lesson plan for teachers to teach Andalusian Poetry  writer

It's from this website which seems to have all things Andalusia! Very cool: http://www.islamicspain.tv/


PDF attached:
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« Reply #55 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:33 AM »

My Beloved Comes

You came to me just before
the Christians rang their bells.
The half-moon was rising
looking like an old man's eyebrow
or a delicate instep.

And although it was stilll night,
when you came, a rainbow
gleamed on the horizon,
showing as many colors
as a peacock's tail.

~ Ibn Hazm
(d. 1063) (Córdoba)
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« Reply #56 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:35 AM »

The Garden

The garden of green hillocks
dresses up for visitors
in the most beautiful colors

as if a young woman's dowry
were spread out
glittering with gold necklaces

or as if someone had poured out
censers of mush powder
mixed with the purest aromatic oils.

Birds trill on the branches
like singing girls
bending over their lutes

and water falls continuously
like neckchains
of silver and pearls.

These are splendors of such perfection
they call to mind
the beauty of absolute certainty
the radiance of faith.

~ 'Abd Alla`h ibn al-Simak
(d. 1145) (Granada)
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« Reply #57 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:36 AM »

Reading

My eye frees what the page imprisons:
the white the white and the black the black.

~ Ibn 'Ammar
(d. 1086) (Silves)
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« Reply #58 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:36 AM »

White Skin

I have never seen
nor heard of such a thing

her modesty turns
pearl into carnelian.

Her face is so clear
that when you gaze
on its perfections

you see your own face
reflected.

~ Ibn 'Abd Rabbihi
(d.940) (Córdoba)
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« Reply #59 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:39 AM »

Grainfield

Look at the ripe wheat
bending before the wind

like squadrons of horsemen
fleeing in defeat, bleeding
from the wounds of the poppies.

~ Ibn 'Iyad
(d. 1149) (Central Andalusia)
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« Reply #60 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:39 AM »

Apology

Don't cross me off as fickle
because a singing voice
has captured my heart.

One must be serious sometimes
and lighthearted at other times:

like wood from which come
both the singer's lute
and the warrior's bow.

~ Ibrahim ibn Uthman
(12th Century) (Córdoba)
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« Reply #61 on: Feb 01, 2009 06:40 AM »

Tide In The Guadalquivir

When the West Wind ripped the river's tunic
the river overflowed its banks
to pursue and take revenge;

but the doves laughed, and made fun
from a sheltering thicket,
and the river, shame-faced,

crawled back into his bed
to hide under its veil.

~ Ibn Safr al-Marini
(12th Century) (Almera)
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« Reply #62 on: Nov 07, 2009 09:15 AM »

Not from Andalusian times, but seems appropriate.

Written by Federico Garcia Lorca who is a famous Spanish poet that translated many of these Andalusian poems into Spanish (which were then translated into English, many of which are posted here!)


Song of the Rider

 
Córdoba.

                    Far away, and lonely.

 

                    Full moon, black pony,

                    olives against my saddle.

                    Though I know all the roadways

                    I’ll never get to Córdoba.

 

                    Through the breezes, through the valley,

                    red moon, black pony.

                    Death is looking at me

                    from the towers of Córdoba.

 

                    Ay, how long the road is!

                    Ay, my brave pony!

                    Ay, death is waiting for me,

                    before I get to Córdoba.

 

                    Córdoba.

                    Far away, and lonely.
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« Reply #63 on: Nov 09, 2009 10:50 AM »

“ A Robe of Love”

Ibn Khafajah, Alcira (1058-1138)

 

With gazelle glances, with her antelope neck,

with lips of wine and teeth like bubbles

 

She glided along in her gown embroidered with gold

 like shining stars entwined around the moon;

 

The hand of love enveloped us by night

in a robe of embraces which was torn away by the hand of dawn.

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« Reply #64 on: Nov 09, 2009 11:04 AM »

Did you know the Alhambra itself is covered with poetry!! Who knew, what awesomeness Smiley

=============

The walls of the Alhambra are full of calligraphic decoration, cursive and kufic writings with sentences such as "Only God is victor" (apparently by Zawi ben Zirí, founder of the Nasrid dynasty) and poems by three poets of the Court of Granada, Ibn al-Yayyab (1274-1349), Ibn al-Jatib (1313-1375) and Ibn Zamrak (1333-1393), who were secretaries of the royal chancellery and prime ministers. Among them, Ibn Zamrak is considered to be the most brilliant of the poets of the Alhambra.


Escrituras en el Salón de Embajadores
Writings in the Hall of the Ambassadors

As an example here are included some of the poems that may be found on the walls of the fortress.

Poem of the right taca on the northern portico of the Generalife


These tacas were niches or larders made into the wall, always in twos on both sides of the arches of gates of entrance to the chambers. These tacas were used to keep containers with water.

The poem that appears on its spandrel reads as follows:

«Taca on the door of the happiest hall
to serve His Highness in the mirador.
¡My God, how beautiful it is when hold
by the right hand of the incomparable king!
When glasses of water appear on it,
they are like maidens above.
Rejoice at Ismail, thanks to whom
God has honoured you and made you happy.
¡May the Islam subsist thanks to him
so strongly, that it will be the defence of the throne!»

Third poem in the Tower of the Captive

«This piece of art has come to decorate the Alhambra;
which is the home of the peaceful and of the warriors;
Calahorra that contains a palace.
¡Say that it is at the same time a fortress and a mansion for joy!
It is a palace in which magnificence is shared
among its ceiling, its floor and its four walls;
on the stuccowork and on the glazed tiles there are wonders,
but the carved wooden ceilings are even more extraordinary;
these were all united and their union gave birth to the most perfect
construction in the place where the highest mansion already stood;
they seem poetic images, paronomasias and transpositions,
the decorative branches and inlays.
Yusuf's visage appears before us as a sign
that is where all the perfections have met.
It is from the glorious tribe of Jazray, whose works in favour of the religion
are like dawn, when its light appears in the horizon.»

Poem on Comares' Gate

«I am a crown on the front of my door:
in me is the West envious of the East.
Al-Gani billah* orders me to quickly
give way to the victory, as soon as it calls.
I am always waiting to see the visage
of the king, dawn appearing from the horizon.
¡May God make his works as beautiful
as are his mettle and his figure»

(*) Al-Gani billah: The victor by God: Nickname used by Mohamed V after the victory in Algeciras in 1369.

Poem on the basin of the Lions

«May The One who granted the imam Mohammed
with the beautiful ideas to decorate his mansions be blessed.
For, ¿are there not in this garden wonders
that God has made incomparable in their beauty,
and a sculpture of pearls with a transparently light,
the borders of which are trimmed with seed pearl?
Melted silver flows through the pearls,
to which it resembles in its pure dawn beauty.
Apparently, water and marble seem to be one,
without letting us know which of them is flowing.
¿Don't you see how the water spills on the basin,
but its spouts hide it immediately?
It is a lover whose eyelids are brimming over with tears,
tears that it hides from fear of a betrayer.
¿Isn't it, in fact, like a white cloud
that pours its water channels on the lions
and seems the hand of the caliph, who, in the morning,
grants the war lions with his favours?
Those who gaze at the lions in a threatening attitude,
(knows that) only respect (to the Emir) holds his anger.
¡Oh descendant of the Ansares, and not through an indirect line,
heritage of nobility, who despises the fatuous:
May the peace of God be with you and may your life be long and unscathed
multiplying your feasts and tormenting your enemies!»

Poem of the fountain of Daraxa's Garden


«I am a water orb that appears before the creatures limpid and transparent
a great Ocean, the shores of which are select pieces of work made of special marble
and the waters of which, shaped like pearls, flow on an enormous sheet of ice that has been delicately carved.
In occasions I am overflowed with water, but I, from time to time,
part with the transparent veil that covers me.
Then I and that part of the water that comes from the borders of the fountain,
appear like a piece of ice, part of which melts and the rest does not.
But, when rivers flow, we are only comparable to star-studded sky.
I am also a mother-of-pearl and the pearls are the drops,
similar to the jewellery of the right hand that an artisan placed
on Ibn Nasr's crown, who, for me, was generous with the treasures of his fortune.
May he live with double happiness, he, who up to the date has been the thoughtful man of the lineage of Galib,
of the children of prosperity, of the fortunate ones,
stars shining goodness, delicate noble mansion.
Of the children of the tribe of the Jazray, of those who proclaimed the truth and protected the Prophet.
He has been the new Sa'd who, with his banns, has dispelled all the darkness and turned it into light
and he has given prosperity to his vassals by creating a stable peace in the surrounding areas.
He placed the throne as a guarantee of security for the religion and the believers.
And he has granted me the highest degree of beauty, so that my shape causes the admiration of the sages.
For never have any eyes seen a greater thing than myself, neither in the East nor in the West
and in no time has any king, neither abroad nor in Arabia,
achieved anything similar to me.»

Poem on the arch of entry to Daraxa's mirador



Each art has enriched me with its special beauty and has endowed me with its magnificence and perfections.
The one who sees me may judge according to my beauty of the wife that walks to this glass and seeks for his favours.
When the one who looks at me carefully observes my beauty, the look of his eyes is deceived by an appearance.
For when he looks at my marvellous background, he believes that the full moon has established her residence
here and has therefore abandoned her own mansions to find mine.I am not alone, for from here I contemplate an astonishing garden.
No eyes have ever seen anything similar to him.
This is the glass palace;
nevertheless, some have judged it as a tempestuous and shaken ocean, when they have seen it.
This was all built by the Imam Ibn Nasr*;
may God be the guardian of the other kings of his nobility.
His ascendants in the antiquity reached a greater nobility
for they gave shelter to the Prophet and his family.

*Note: the Imam Ibn Nasr is Mohammed the V.

Poem in the Hall of the Two Sisters


«I am a garden adorned by beauty:
my being will know whether you look at my beauty.
Oh, Mohammed, my king, I try to equal
the noblest thing that has ever existed or will ever exist.
Sublime work of art, fate wants me to outshine every other moment in history.
How much delight for the eyes!
The noble one renews his desires here.
The Pleiads serve as his amulet;
the breeze defends it with its magic.
A gleaming vault shines in a unique way,
with apparent and hidden beauties.
The hand of a devoted to Gemini;
and the Moon comes to converse with her.
The stars wish to rest there,
and not turn around the celestial wheel,
and they wish to await submissively in both courtyards,
and serve tenaciously like slaves:
Isn't it marvellous that the stars miss it
and go beyond the marked limit,
in order to readily serve my master,
for those who serve the Glorious one reach the glory.
The portico is so beautiful that the palace
competes in beauty with the sky.
You dressed it with such an exquisite lamé,
that the loom of the Yemen is forgotten.
¡How many arches are high on its summit,
on the columns that are adorned by the light,
like spheres that turn
above the glowing pillar of the dawn!
The columns are so beautiful in every way,
that their success flies from mouth to ear:
the marble throws its clear light, which invades
the black corner that blackens the shadow;
its highlights iridesce, and one would say that
they are, in spite of their size, pearls.
We have never seen such a blooming garden,
with a sweeter harvest and more scent.
With permission from the judge of beauty
it pays double the tax in the most exquisite palace,
with brighter and wide areas.
Never two coins,
because if, at dawn, on the hands are left
drachmas of light from the zephyr, which would suffice,
gold doubles of sun, which embellish it,
are later thrown in the bushes, among the trunks.
(The kinship links him to victory:
Only the King cedes this lineage.)»
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« Reply #65 on: Jan 07, 2010 06:22 AM »

When I was a kid I fall in love with this poesy:

El arco

Me maravillo de la ingratitud del arco,
porque no es leal con las palomas del boscaje.

Cuando era rama, fue su amigo,
y ahora que es arco las persigue.
¡Así son las vicisitudes de los tiempos!

De AHMAD BEN WADDAH

I'm sorry, it is in spanish but I'll highly appreciate if you got some links about this author.

Thanks.

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« Reply #66 on: Jan 07, 2010 06:39 AM »

Since it is in Spanish I thought I'd post it here since there are a number of Spanish poems here as well. I asked a friend to translate it and he said this:


the ungratefulness of the bow amazes me.
because it's not faithful with the birds of the forest.
when it was a branch it was their friend.
and now that it's a bow it persecutes them.
thus are the trials of time.

=============================

I did find a website with the above poem and many more Andalusian poems, but in Spanish!!! Enjoy  Grin

======================

Fragmentos de algunos de los mejores poetas andalusíes, traducidos del árabe por D. Emilio García Gómez que los encontró en una pequeña antología de la lírica andaluza titulada Kitab rayab al-Mubarrazin wa-gayat almumayyazim ("Libro de las banderas de los campeones y de los estandartes de los selectos") del célebre Ibn Said al-Magribi, muerto en 1274.


La estrella fugaz

Vio la estrella a un demonio espiar furtivamente
a las puertas del cielo, y se lanzó contra él,
encendiendo un camino de llama.

Parecía un jinete a quien la rapidez de la carrera
desatara el turbante y que lo arrastrase entero tras
de sí un velo que flota.

De BEN SARA, de Santarén.
(m. 1123)

  

Lluvia sobre el río

La mano de los vientos realiza finos trabajos de
orfebre en el río, ondulado en mil arrugas.

Y siempre que ha terminado de forjar las mallas
de una loriga, la lluvia viene a enlazarlas con sus
clavillos.

Del sevillano (de Manís) ABU-L-QASIM AL-MANISI,
llamado ASA AL-AMA. (Siglo XII)

  

Castidad

Aunque estaba pronta a entregarse, me abstuve de ella,
y no obedecí la tentación que me ofrecía Satán.

Apareció sin velo en la noche, y las tinieblas nocturnas,
iluminadas por su rostro, también levantaron aquella vez sus velos.

No había mirada suya en la que no hubiera incentivos
que revolucionaban los corazones.

Mas di fuerzas al precepto divino que condena
la lujuria sobre las arrancadas caprichosas del corcel
de mi pasión, para que mi instinto no se rebelase
contra la castidad.

Y así, pasé con ella la noche como el pequeño camello sediento
al que el bozal impide mamar.

Tal, un vergel, donde para uno como yo no hay
otro provecho que el ver y el oler.

Que no soy yo como las bestias abandonadas
que toman los jardines como pasto.

De BEN FARACH, de Jaén,
autor del Libro de los Huertos.
(m. 976)

  

Disculpa

No me tachéis de inconsecuente porque mi corazón
haya sido apresado por una voz que canta:

Hay que estar serio unas veces y otras dejarse emocionar:
como la madera, de la que sale lo mismo
el arco del guerrero que el laúd del cantor.

Del alfaquí cordobés IBRAHIM BEN UTMAN.
(Siglo XII)

 

Profesión de "Amor udrí"

Yo soy, como quieres y deseas,
un amante apasionado, un poeta ilustre, noble, generoso.

El Iraq me ha amamantado al pecho de su amor,
Bagdad me ha conquistado con su mirada.

Cuando el dolor se prolonga, cuando la vigilia se
apodera de mis párpados, mi propio sufrir me sirve
de descanso:

Método que fundó Chamil y cuya rigidez
aumentaron los que, como yo, vinieron después.

Del poeta granadino BEN MUTARRIF.
(Siglo XIII)

  

El luto de Al-Andalus

Si es el blanco el color de los vestidos
en al-Andalus, cosa justa es.

¿No me ves a mí, que me he vestido con el blanco
de las canas, porque estoy de luto por la juventud?

De ABU-L-HASAN AL-HUSRI,
"el Ciego" (m. 1095)

 

Mutamid y su familia
embarcan para el destierro

Todo lo olvidaré menos aquella madrugada junto
al Guadaquivir, cuando estaban en las naves como
muertos en sus fosas.

Las gentes se agolpaban en las dos orillas,
mirando cómo flotaban aquellas perlas
sobre las espumas del río.

Caían los velos porque las vírgenes no se cuidaban
de cubrirse, y se desgarraban los rostros como otras
veces los mantos.

Llegó el momento, y ¡qué tumulto de adioses, qué
clamor el que a porfía lanzaban las doncellas
y los galanes!

Partieron los navíos, acompañados de sollozos,
como una perezosa caravana que el camellero arrea
con su canción.

¿Ay, cuántas lágrimas caían al agua! ¿Ay, cuántos
corazones rotos se llevaban aquellas galeras insensibles!

De BEN AL-LABBANA, de Denia
(m. 1113)

 

 El arco

Me maravillo de la ingratitud del arco,
porque no es leal con las palomas del boscaje.

Cuando era rama, fue su amigo,
y ahora que es arco las persigue.
¡Así son las vicisitudes de los tiempos!

De AHMED BEN WADDAH,
apodado AL-BUQAYRA, de Murcia
(muerto hacia 1135)
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« Reply #67 on: Feb 22, 2010 05:51 AM »

Found these italian villa and spanish scenes and had to add them here. Sigh....These are all prints you can order from those art sites...

==========================

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« Reply #68 on: Feb 22, 2010 05:53 AM »

and my personal favorite...wish i could live there.....sigh again...
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« Reply #69 on: Mar 18, 2010 08:06 PM »

The Poet-King of Seville

Written by Rose M. Esber
Illustrated by Norman MacDonald

Poetry flourished exuberantly in 11th century al-Andalus. Verse was the common expression of the day, an arabesque of words and meaning the language of love, diplomacy and satire. Andalusians loved poetry and virtually everyone composed it.

No poet so embodied the spirit of this brilliant poetical age as did al-Mu'tamid, the poet-king of Seville, who lived from 1040 to 1095. Al-Mu'tamid is considered one of the most outstanding Andalusian poets of his age. "He left," wrote literary histo­rian Ibn Bassam, "some pieces of verse as beautiful as the bud when it opens to disclose the flower."

The dramatic twists of al-Mu'tamid's life, which took him to triumphant kingship in Seville and then to the bitterness of African exile, are legendary, and they remain a poignant metaphor for the spectacular rise and fall of al-Andalus. The histo­rian al-Marrakushi wrote of al-Mu'tamid, "If one wanted to list all the examples of beauty produced by al-Ahdalus from the time of the conquest to the present day, then al-Mu'tamid would be one of them, if not the greatest of all...."

The collapse of the Andalusian Umayyad caliphate in 1031 diminished the illustrious capital city of Córdoba to a mere provincial town, and splintered al-Andalus into some 23 petty principal­ities and locally ruled kingdoms. The disarray left by this disintegration unified the feuding Christian states of Galicia, León, Castile, Navarre, Aragón and Barcelona with visions of reconquest. This period became known as the era of the "party kings" or petty monarchs - muluk al-tawa'if in Arabic, reyes de taifas in Spanish.

Once-glorious Córdoba was soon eclipsed by the flourishing dynasties of Seville, Badajoz, Granada and Toledo. Yet apart from brief coalitions against their common Spanish-Christian enemy, the kingdoms were constantly dividing and realigning themselves through feuds and treaties, their rulers vying not only for political dominance, but also attract the greatest poets and scholars of the day their respective courts.

Of all these rival kingdoms, the most formidable militarily and the most scintillating artistically was undeniably the kingdom of Seville, ruled by the 'Abbadids. Al-Mu'tamid inherited not only the reins of power from his ancestors but their poetical talent as well.

Al-Mu'tamid's grandfather Abu al-Quasim Muhammad ibn Isma'il ibn Abbad, the founder of the ‘Abbadid dynasty, was renowned for his justice and wise rule, while his son al-Mu’tadid, al-Mu’tamid’s father, was feared for his tyranny and fierce cruelty. Nonetheless, poets and scholars gravitated to al-Mu’tadid’s court, for he was also known as a great patron of literature and the arts, as well as a poet in his own right. 

Abu al-Qasim Muhammad II ibn ‘Abbad al-Mu’tamid was the third and last of the ‘Abbadid dynasty. His reputation as an enlightened, benevolent ruler and gifted poet soon surpassed that of his forebears. The biographer Ibn Khallikan described al-Mu’tamid as “the most liberal, hospitable, munificent and powerful of all the princes ruling Spain. His court was the haling place of travelers, the rendezvous of poets, the point to which all hopes were directed and the haunt of men of talent.” 

Al-Mu'tamid's life story, dramatic enough in its facts, was immortalized by his verse and the intimate revelations it provided of his soul. His youthful works show his preoccupation with pleasure and friendship, and mirror the popular themes of love, nature and sensual beauty:

She stood in all her slender grace

Veiling the sun’s orb from my face:

O may her beauty ever be

So veiled from times inconstancy!

 

It was as if she knew, I guess,

She was a moon of loveliness;

And may aught else the bright sun veil

Except the moon's own lustre pale?


During these early years, a young, penniless, poet-adventurer was drawn to the court of Seville to prove his talent and reap his reward. Ibn 'Ammar's artful verse captured the fervent admiration of the young prince al-Mu'tamid, who aspired to model himself after the poet. Lovers of pleasure, high adventure and - above all - poetry, the two became inseparable companions. When al-Mu'tamid's father appointed him gov­ernor of Silves (in present-day Portugal) at age 23, the prince named Ibn 'Ammar his vizier, and later, when he ascended the throne, his prime minister.

The two friends often sallied forth in disguise to the banks of al-Wadi al-Kabir, now the Guadal­quivir River, to amuse themselves. On such an out­ing, al-Mu'tamid supposedly met his future bride. While strolling along the river's Bank where some young women were washing linen, the legend has it, al-Mu'tamid improvised a half verse, challenging Ibn 'Ammar to supply the second verse on the spot:

Sana’a ‘r-ribu min al-ma i zarad…

  [The wind has turned the water to chain mail...]


Ibn 'Ammar's brilliant wit had never failed him in this, their favorite pastime. But this time, before he could take up the rhyme, one of the linen-washers unhesitatingly replied:

Ayyu dir'in li-qitdlin law jamad! 

[What armor for a battle, if it froze!]


Captivated by her beauty and cleverness, al-Mu'tamid had the young poet brought to the palace. Her name was I'timad; she was commonly known as Rumaikiyyah, the slave of Rumaik, for whom she drove mules. Al-Mu'tamid purchased I'timad's freedom and married her. It is said he adopted the public name al-Mu'tamid 'ala Allah - "He Who Relies on God" - after his wife's name I'ti­mad, or "reliance."

The second period of al-Mu'tamid's poetical work is dominated by themes of war and rulership, expansion of the kingdom of Seville, his deep love for his wife and their splendid life together at court. Al-Mu'tamid expressed his feelings for I'timad in an acrostic rhapsody that he composed while sepa­rated from her:

Invisible to my eyes, thou art ever presentto my heart.

Thy happiness I desire to be infinite, as are mysighs, my tears, and my sleepless nights!

Impatient of the bridle when other women seek toguide me, thou makest me submissiveto thy lightest wishes.

My desire each moment is to be at thy side.

Speedily may it be fulfilled!

Ab! my heart's darling, think of me, and forgetme not, however long my absence!

Dearest of names! I have written it, I have now traced that delicious word – I 'timad!


I'timad's extravagant whims were infamous, but al-Mu'tamid attempted to indulge her every wish and remained devoted to her throughout his life.

The story is told of a wintry February day when snowflakes gently fell on Córdoba. Watching this rare spectacle from a palace window, I'timad sud­denly burst into tears. She sobbed to her husband that he was cruel not to provide her such a lovely sight every winter. In response, al-Mu'tamid ordered the Sierra of Córdoba to be planted thick with almond trees, whose delicate white blossoms each spring would simulate the snowflakes so admired by I'timad.

Although not overly concerned with state affairs, al-Mu'tamid succeeded in annexing Córdoba to the kingdom of Seville - a campaign initiated by his grandfather - and this in only the second year of his reign. The royal poet lauded his own conquest in verse:

I have won at the first onset

The hand of the lovely Córdoba;

That brave Amazon who with sword and spear

Repelled all those who sought her in marriage.

And now we celebrate our nuptial in her palace,

While the other monarchs, my baffled rivals,

Weep tears of rage and tremble with fear.

With good reason do ye tremble, despicable foemen!

For soon will the lion spring upon you.2

The four or five years following the conquest of Córdoba were indeed joyful for al-Mu'tamid and his family, but their joy was to be short-lived. Con­stant feuding among the party kings provided an opportunity for Christian reconquest, and success­ful encroachment forced some Andalusian kings to become tributaries to Christian suzerains. Mean­while, Alfonso VI, King of León, Castile and Navarre, had resolved to conquer the entire penin­sula. "Biding his time," the Dutch historian Reinhart Dozy wrote, "he crushed the treasuries of the Muslim kinglets as in a wine-press, till they poured forth gold."

On May 25, 1085, Alfonso VI forcibly annexed Toledo, a great center of Muslim scholarship. In a panic, the Andalusians realized that, relying on their own resources, they had but two alternatives: submit to the Christian king, or emigrate. The scholar Abu Muhammad al-'Assal sounded the alarm in verse: "Men of al-Andalus, put spurs to your horses! Delay at this time is idle folly."

Their very existence threatened by Christian ascendancy, the Andalusian kings called upon the Muslim Almoravids of North Africa for reinforce­ments, despite the fact that these stern Berber nomads from the Sahara seemed more likely rivals than allies.

When al-Mu'tamid's son Rashid advised against introducing the Almoravids into Spain, al-Mu'tamid reportedly replied: "I have no desire to be branded by my descendants as the man who delivered al-Andalus as prey to the infidels. I am loath to have my name cursed in every Muslim pul­pit. And, for my part, I would rather be a camel-driver in Africa than a swineherd in Castile."

Thus, the kings of Seville, Granada and Badajoz sent envoys to Yusuf ibn Tashufin, king of the Almoravids, pressing him and his army to come immediately to their aid, without, however, encroaching on their sovereignty in al-Andalus. Yusuf ibn Tashufin agreed, crossed the Strait of Gi­braltar into Spain, and defeated Alfonso VI in the brilliant strategic battle of al-Zallaqah (Sagrajas), a few kilometers north of Badajoz, in 1086. Hailed as the savior of all al-Andalus, Ibn Tashufin and his piety, valor and military skill were extolled throughout Muslim Spain.

Alfonso Vl's defeat liberated the Andalusian kings from the humiliation of paying annual tribute. Yet, despite the brilliance of the victory, it was not a decisive one; the Andalusians remained incapable of defending themselves, and the Castilians began focusing their attacks on the eastern part of al-Andalus. Unable to cope with the increas­ing raids in the eastern provinces of his kingdom, al-Mu'tamid himself traveled to Morocco, once again seeking the aid of Ibn Tashufin.

By this time an air of growing discontent had permeated the petty kingdoms. Their rulers were too weak to protect their subjects even from neigh­boring Muslim kingdoms, much less from the Christian invaders. While citizens cried out against the kings' extortionate taxes for their opulent courts, the kings themselves bickered and denounced each other to the Almoravid ruler.

The disaffection of the Andalusian populace reached the ear of Ibn Tashufin. With the encour­agement of his advisors, he again responded to the pleadings of the petty kings, this time with the intention of adding al-Andalus to the Almoravid empire, which already stretched from Senegal to Algiers.

The kingdoms of Granada and Malaga were the first to fall to the raiding Almoravid armies. Learn­ing of Ibn Tashufin's betrayal, al-Mu'tamid attempt­ed to forge an alliance with Alfonso VI, but it was too late. The Berbers stormed the fortifications of Seville and sacked the city. Al-Mu'tamid defended his citadel heroically, finally surrendering only to spare his family. In his grief, he wrote:

When my tears cease to flow,

And a calm steals over my troubled heart,

I hear voices crying "Yield! That is true wisdom!"

But I reply, "Poison would be a sweeter draughtto me

Than such a cup of shame!"

Though the barbarians wrest from me my realm,

And my soldiers forsake me,

My courage and my pride remain steadfast.

When I fell upon the foe, I scorned a breastplate,

1 encountered them unarmed;

Hoping for death, I flung myself into the fray;

But alas, my hour had not yet come!2


Many of the Andalusian kings, dethroned and their cities despoiled, were assassinated. For al-Mu'tamid, Ibn Tashufin decreed deportation. A vast, grief-stricken crowd thronged the banks of the Guadalquivir to bid the royal family farewell; black barges ferried the exiles from their beloved al-Andalus across the Strait of Gibraltar to North Africa. When the barge carrying al-Mu'tamid docked in Tangier, the poets of the land sought him out, even then seeking patronage. To them, al-Mu'tamid gave the last of his money, stained with his own blood.

So began the third and final chapter of al-Mu'tamid's life. From the pinnacle of happiness and power to the depths of poverty and humiliation, al-Mu'tamid poured out his deep sorrow in poetry unparalleled in Arabic literature. En route to Meknes, encountering a procession walking to the mosque to pray for rain, he mused:

When folk who were about

To implore heaven for rain

Met me, I exclaimed,

"My tears will take the place of showers!"

"Thou sayest truth," they replied;

"Thy tears would suffice -

But they are mingled with blood!"


The poet-king was banished to the arid desert village of Aghmat, near Marrakech, situated in the most elevated and dramatic mountain range of the High Atlas. There, al-Mu'tamid dragged out a pitiful existence in utter destitution, tormented by the sight of his wife and daughters spinning wool for paltry sums.

Poetry was his only solace. The elegies written at Aghmat recall his former greatness, his massacred sons and his splendid palaces and court life. Al-Mu'tamid admitted that he had erred in summoning Ibn Tashufin to al-Andalus. "In so doing,” he said, "I dug my own grave." On his first ‘Id al-Fitr in captivity, he wrote, in abject misery:

In days gone by the festivals made thee joyous,

But sad is the festival which findeth thee a captiveat Aghmat.

Thou seest thy daughters clothed in rags and dying of hunger;                     

They spin for a pittance, for they are destitute.

Worn with fatigue, and with downcast eyes,they come to embrace thee.   

They walk bare-footed in the mire of the streets,

Who once trod on musk and camphor!

Their hollow cheeks, furrowed with tears,attest their poverty....

Just as on the occasion of this sad festival—

God grant that thou mayest never see another! –

Thou hast broken thy fast, so has thy heart broken hers:

Thy sorrow, long restrained, bursts for afresb.

Yesterday, when thou spakest the word all menobeyed;

Now thou art at the beck of others.

Kings who glory in their greatness are dupesof a vain dream!

Al-Mu'tamid greeted rumors of insurrection in al-Andalus with hope and joy, but they earned him only the additional humiliation of chains.

Strange that these irons do not glow

And singe the hands of these villains,

For fear of him, upon whose grace

Courageous men depended, and whose sword

Sent some to heaven and some to hell.


Languishing in fetters, forgotten and ill, al-Mu'tamid was finally overwhelmed with grief after the death of his beloved I'timad. In 1095, at the age of 55, he succumbed, dying in exile at Aghmat. He was the last of the native-born Andalusian kings, and he brilliantly represented a magnificent cul­ture. His chivalry, liberality and courage endeared him to succeeding generations. "Everyone loves al-Mu'tamid," wrote historian Ibn al-Abbar more than a century later, "everyone pities him, and even now he is lamented."

Rose M. Esber is a free-lance writer based in Washington, D.C.

All things come to an end,

Even death itself dies the death of things.

Destiny is chameleon-colored,

Its very essence is transformation.

In its hands we are like a game of chess,

And the king may be lost for the sake of a pawn.

So shake off the world, and find repose,

For earth turns to desert, and men die.

Say to this lowly world: the secret of the

Higher world lies hidden at Aghmat...'

 

-Al-Mu'tamid, King of Seville


This article appeared on pages 12-18 of the January/February 1993 print edition of Saudi Aramco World.
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« Reply #70 on: Mar 30, 2010 02:35 AM »

I hope one day someone can translate these inshaAllah!

=========================

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

وصف الطبيعة في الأندلس

من الموضوعات التي شاعت في الأندلس وازدهرت كثيراً
شعر وصف الطبيعة وهذا موضوع في الشعر العربي منذ العصر الجاهلي إذ وصف الشعراء صحراءهم وتفننوا في وصفها لكن هذا الوصف لم يتعد الجانب المادي وفي العصر الأموي والعباسي عندما انتقل العرب المسلمون إلى البلدان المفتوحة وارتقت حياتهم الاجتماعية أضافت على وصف الطبيعة وصف المظاهر المدنيَّة والحضارة وتفننوا , فمن ذلك فقد وصف الطبيعة عند الشعراء العباسيين أمثال النجدي والصنوبري وأبي تمام وأبي بكر النجدي الذي عاش في بيئة حلب ولكن ما الجديد الذي جاء به الأندلسيون بحيث أن هذا الموضوع أصبح من الأغراض والموضوعات التي عُرف بها أصل الأندلس .


عوامل ازدهار شعر الطبيعة في الشعر الأندلسي

• ازدهار الحضارة العربية في الأندلس ازدهارا كبيرا وهذا الازدهار الذي شمل جميع جوانب الحياة الأندلسية .
• جمال الطبيعة الأندلسية التي افتتن بها شعراء الأندلس وتعلقوا بها وفصَّلوا في وصفها والتغني بمفاتنها .
• ازدهار مجالس الأنس والبهجة واللهو حيث كانت هذه المجالس تُعقدُ في أحضان الطبيعة .


خصائص وصف الطبيعة


• أفرد شعراء الطبيعة في الأندلس قصائد مستقلة ومقطوعات شعرية خاصة في هذا الغرض بحيث تستطيع هذه القصائد باستيعاب طاقة الشاعر التصويرية وخياله التصوري , غير الالتزام الذي تسير عليه القصيدة العربية فلم يترك الشاعر زاوية من زوايا الطبيعة إلا وطرقها .
• يعتبر شعر الطبيعة في الأندلس صورة دقيقة لبيئة الأندلس ومرآة صادقة لطبيعتها وسحرها وجمالها فقد وصفوا طبيعة الأندلس الطبيعية والصناعية مُمَثَّلة في الحقول والرياض والأنهار والجبال وفي القصور والبرك والأحواض .
• تُعد قصائد الطبيعة في الأندلس لوحات بارعة الرسم أنيقة الألوان محكمة الظلال تشد انتباه القارئ وتثير اهتمامه .
• أصبح شعراء الطبيعة نظراً للاهتمام به يحل محل أبيات النسيب في قصائد المديح , بل إن قصيدة الرثاء لا تخلو من جانب من وصف الطبيعة .
• أصبحت الطبيعة بالنسبة لشعراء الأندلس ملاذاً وملجأ لهم يبثونها همومهم وأحزانهم وأفراحهم وأتراحهم إلا أن جانب الفرح والطرب غلب على وصف الطبيعة فتفرح كما يفرحون وتحزن كما يحزنون .
• المرأة في الأندلس صورة من محاسن الطبيعة , والطبيعة ترى في المرأة ظلها وجمالها فقد وصفوا المرأة بالجنة والشمس

ابن خفاجة الأندلسي


يصف نهراً في الأندلس






لله نهـرٌ سـال َفـي بطـحـاءِ
أشهى وروداً من لمى الحسنـاءِ


مُتعطـفٌ مثـلَ السـوارِ كأنـهُ
والزهـرُ يَكنُفُـه مَجَـرُّ سمـاءِ


قد رق حتى ظُن قوسـاً مفرغـاً
من فضةٍ فـي بُـردةٍ خضـراءِ


وغدت تُحف به الغصونُ كأنهـا
هُـدب تحـف بمقلـةٍ زرقــاءِ


ولطالما عاطيـتُ فيـه مدامـةً
صفراء تَخضبُ أيـديَ الندمـاءِ


والريحُ تعبثُ بالغصونِ وقد جرى
ذهبُ الأصيلِ على لُجينِ المـاءِ


ابن سهل الأندلسي
يصف نهراً



لله نهرٌ ما رأيتُ جمَالَهُ
إلا ذكرتُ لديه نهرَ الكوثرِ


والشمسُ قد ألقت عليه رداءها
فتراهُ يرفلُ في قميصٍ أصفرِ


والطيرُ قد غنَّت لشطحِ رواقصٍ
فوقَ الغديرِ جَرَرنَ ثوبَ تَبختُرِ


وكأنَّما أيدي الربيع عَشيَّةً
حلَّين لَبَّاتِ الغصونِ بجوهرِ


وكأنَّ خُضرَ ثِمارهِ وبياضِه
ثَغرٌ تَنَسَّمَ تَحتَ خَدِّ مُعَذَّرِ


ابن هاني الأندلسي
في وصف المطر




ألؤلؤٌ دمعُ هذا الغيثِ أم نقـطُ
ما كانَ أحسنهُ لو كان يُلتقـطُ




أهدى الربيعُ إلينا روضةً أنفـاً
كما تنفسَ عن كافورهِ السفـطُ




غمائمٌ في نواحي الجو عالقـةٌ
حفلٌ تحدر منها وابـلٌ سبـطُ




بين السحابِ وبين الريحِ ملحمةٌ
معامعٌ وظبي في الجو تخترطُ




كأنه ساخطٌ يرضي على عجلٍ
فما يدومُ رضى منه ولا سخطُ




حمدونة بنت زياد
وهي تصف وادي الاشات




أباح الدمع أسراري بِوَادي
له للحسن أثار بَوَادي


فمن نهر يطوف بكل روض
ومن روض يرف بكل وادي


ومن بين الضباء مهاة أنس
سبت لبي وقد ملكت فؤادي


لهــا لحـــظ ترقــده لأمــــر
وذاك الأمر يمنعني رقادي


إذا سدلــت ذوائبها عليهــا
رأيت البدر في أفق السواد


كأن الصبح مات له شقيــق
فمن حزن تسربل بالســواد



يقول ابن حمديس في وصف بركة:
والبركة هي حوض الماء الذي كانت تزين به معظم باحات القصور الفخمة في الأندلس في ذلك الوقت الذي حكم فيه المسلمون الأندلس ، وكانت تلك البرك مزينة بتماثيل الأسود والعصافير التي تخرج من أفواهها المياه كـ(نوافير):
وضراغم سكنت عرين رياسه ......................... تركت خرير الماء فيه زئيرا
فكأنما غشى النضار جسومها....................... واذاب في افواهها البلورا
اسد كأن سكونها متحرك .............................في النفس لو وجدت هناك مثيرا
وتذكرت فتكاتهافكأنما ............................... اقعت على ادبارها لتثورا
وتخالها والشمس تجلو لونها.......................... نارا والسنتها اللواحس نورا
فكأنما سلت سيوف جداول ..............................ذابت بلانار فعدن غديرا
وكأنما نسج النسيم لمائه ................................درعا فقدر سردها تقديرا
وبديعه الثمرات تعبر نحوها .............................عيناي بحر عجائب مسجورا
شجريه ذهبيه نزعت الى ................................. سحر يؤثر في النهى تاثيرا
قد سرجت اغصانها فكانما ...........................قبضت بهن من الفضاء طيورا
وكانما ياتي لوقع طيرها .............................ان تستقل بنهضها وتطيرا
من كل واقعه ترى منقارها ...........................ماء كسلسال اللجين نميرا
خرس تعد من الفصاح فإن شدت .................. جعلت تغرد بالمياه صفيرا
ـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــ
فذلك يدل على أنهم مزجوا وصف الطبيعة بمظاهر الحياة الحضرية المترفة ...................... وليس ذلك بغريب ................... ولكن الغريب .... والذي يدل على تفوقهم العلمي (في نظري) وحضارتهم العظيمة أنهم استطاعوا أن يصنعوا النوافير ..... من أفواه الأسود والعصافير ........ في الوقت الذي لم تكن فيه كهرباء ..............
وعندما سألت ..... عن ذلك الأمر العجيب ،،، قيل لي أنهم اعتمدوا على الظاهرة (الأسموزية) التي تتمثل في صعود الماء من أسفل النبتة إلى أعلاها..... !!!!!
فكيف فعلوا ذلك ..... الله أعلم !!
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« Reply #71 on: Mar 30, 2010 04:30 PM »

Excerpts from an anthology of poetry compiled in 1243 by Ibn Sa'id al-Andalusi
trans. A.J. Arberry


It's almost odd what they wrote about but sooo fascinating!!



Inverted Eyelids

Is a welling fountain hid
In your eye's inverted lid,
That your tears, o'erflowing it,
Run cascading through the slit?

It is curved (think I) as if
On the billows rode a skiff,
And the breeze has made it heel
Over almost to the keel.
And the man, its mariner
(So to the pupil we refer)
Fearing he may drown, no doubt,
Bales the brackish waters out.


The Walnut

In its double skirt enwrapped,
Fair as aught I ever clapped
Eyes on, as when eyelids close
Over slumberful repose.

Opened to the light of day
By a dagger, you might say
'Tis the pupil of an eye
Whetted on its lid, to spy.

Inwardly it doth appear
Soft and rounded as an ear
And, to make my image true,
With its convolutions too.

-Ibn al-Qutiya (d. 977)


Sand

Deface not with your sand
The labours of my hand;
The breeze will be enough
To dry it with a puff.
The stuff you wish to scatter
Would mar my lovely matter,
As smallpox havoc wreaks
On beauty's tender cheeks.

-Ibn al-Arabi (1076-1151)
This poem was composed when the author,
who was Qadi of Seville, having inscribed
some calligraphy a friend was about to dry
the ink in the ancient manner by sprinkling
sand over the page.


The Rising Sun


Behold with wondering eyes
The sun in beauty rise;
One brow is bathed in light,
One grudged as yet to sight.

As though the sun would say:
'I shall not grudge alway;
This loveliness of mine
Will soon all naked shine.'

O beauty's mirror, bare
In beauty splendid there
To east, anon to west
At even laid to rest.

The far horizons grieve
To see its raidance leave
The skies, and wrap them round
In shadows deep, profound.

And, as each star appears,
Meseems that heaven's tears
In agony supreme
Like frozen raindrops gleam.


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« Reply #72 on: Jun 15, 2010 08:31 PM »

From the same as above:


The Vine


As I was passing by
A vine, its tendrils tugged my sleeve.
'Do you design', said I,
'My body so to grieve?'

'Why do you pass', the vine
Replied, 'and never greeting make?
It took this blood of mine
Your thirsting bones to slake.'


The White Charger


My white charger rode to war,
Shining like a meteor,
Stepping proud and stepping bold
In his saddle-cloth of gold.

As he trotted after me
To the field of victory
Cried my rival, envious
Gazing open-mouthed at us:

'Who has bridled, if you please,
Dawn with the bright Pleiades,
Or who saddles this high noon
Lighting with the crscent moon

--Abus Salt (1067-1134)



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« Reply #73 on: May 18, 2011 09:59 AM »

Found these cute things from an old book I found on google free books:
The poetry of the Arabs of Spain by George J. Adler 1867

http://books.google.com/books?id=TxY-AAAAcAAJ&dq=andalusian%20poetry&pg=PA26#v=onepage&q=andalusian%20poetry&f=false

In connection with the first caliph we can scarcely avoid adding the following pleasant little anecdote.

Abdurrahman happening to be ill it was declared necessary that he should be bled. He was seated in the great hall of the pavilion which surmounted the heights of Az Zahra and the physician was just at the point of applying his instrument to the caliph's arm when suddenly a starling came flying in and after alighting upon a golden vase close by gave utterance to the following verses:

"O thou, who with the lancet art now about to shed the blood of the Emir of the Faithful, be careful, mind now, be careful of the illustrious vein, in which the life of worlds is circulating."

The starling repeated the couplet several times to the great amusement of the caliph who expressed his astonishment and desired to know who taught the bird the verses. On learning that Murdshana, the mother of the crown prince El Hakem, was the author of the ingenious device, he rewarded her with a magnificent present for the entertainment she had arranged for him.

...

The following love epistle addressed to his lady love by Prince Izzuddaula is destitute neither of ingenuity nor of delicacy of sentiment:

"In mourning and with longing sighs have I composed for thee this letter, my love; and had my heart but courage, how fain would I myself become the bearer of my message."
"Imagine, in perusing now these lines, myself as coming from a distance and the black letters to be the pupils of my own dark eyes."
"Permit my kisses to be imprinted on the little note, the seal of which, O dearest one on earth, is destined presently to be dissolved by thy white tender fingers."


The following ghasel from the pen of Crown-prince Abdurrahman has reference to the idea of meeting in dreams, quite frequently treated by the Moorish poets :

" Let her be greeted, who never deigned to requite me with a solitary word; who never to the warmest salutations of my heart sent me the least consoling answer."
" Let the gazelle be greeted, who thus reciprocates - my inclination as cruelly to transfix me with her looks, which wound like lightly feathered arrows."
"Ah, she has never given me hope or balm to heal my aching sorrow, has never to my slumbers sent her lovely image to encourage."


To Said Ibn Djudi, a poet of the ninth century, we are indebted for a few couplets which in delicacy of sentiment could not be put below many of those of the troubadours or minnesingers of the twelfth and thirteenth :

" Since I have heard her voice, my soul has fled from me; the enchanting sound has left me but regrets and sorrow."
" I think of her, and ever but of her, my dear Djehana; we never met, my eyes beheld her never, and yet I made her a surrender of this heart."
" Her dearly cherished name, which I prize above all, I'll now invoke with tear-dew in my eyes, as the monk calls on the image of his saint."


The pain of separation is thus celebrated in a few verses from the pen of Abul Fadhl Iyad :

"Since I beheld thee last, I've been a bird with broken pinions. Ah, could I but wing my way to thee beyond the sea; for our separation will be the cause of death to me."


Abu Amr of Malaga, once happening upon a promenade about the precincts of his native city to meet Abdul Wahab, a great amateur of poetry, was asked by the latter to repeat for him some verses. He recited as follows :

" She has deprived Aurora of her blooming cheeks: she has received her siender form in feoff from Irak's fair-proportioned stems.
" She threw away her jewels to choose for her a better ornament, and put the stars about her neck, like strings of pearls, all bright and luminous."
" And not content with the light, graceful shape of the gazelle, she robbed the little animal of the sweet brightness of its eye besides."

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« Reply #74 on: Sep 26, 2011 06:50 AM »

Absent Friends

If now, as is too true,
My body's far away
My heart abides with you
For ever and a day.

But he alone knows bliss
Who looks on his adored,
And Moses prayed for this
That he might see the Lord.

--Ibn Hazm


[The poet refers to Moses' prayer to see God as recorder in the Koran.]






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