Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
Mother… I come to you in the darkness of vision, as agonies wring my soul,
And my longing for the beloved, both distant and near, consumes me.
Though my body may sleep, my spirit wakes in your absence,
Weeping and bleeding from my profound love and sorrows.
Mother… Their charms were etched in my mind during youth;
Since the tenderness of my childhood, my heart has been filled with them.
It grew with the passing days, flourishing into passion,
So how can I conceal a love so deeply rooted in my heart?
Mother… I thought my cousins were as sisters to me,
Yet my kin turned their backs and forgot our devotion.
And friends, out of envy for the beauty of the one I love,
Planted thorns of bitterness along the paths of our union.
Mother… No sooner did fate bless me with their sight,
Than the wall of ownership rose as an unyielding barrier.
Shall I be selfish, destroying the wall with the horn of my scorching pain?
Or shall I be a silent angel, reconciling with grief,
Remaining to burn in both my waking hours and my bed?
Mother… They have ignited longing like a blazing fire in my chest,
Sleep has fled my eyes, and sleeplessness has claimed me.
O my pillow and the balm to my sighs.. guide me,
For I have none but your bosom to hold me,
And in your angelic embrace, all restlessness ends.
My child… Do you see me wiping away your tears with my luminous hand through the specter of sleep? Do you see me drawing your head now to my departed chest, saying to you:
Dry your tears, for in my embrace lies a safety that uproots all sorrows.
Do not despair over the betrayal of a friend or a relative,
For people seldom cherish the depth of what once was.
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My child… Be an angel and do not be a destroyer; pure love is that which builds the soul, not that which dismantles the happiness of others. The wall of ownership may veil the body, but it can never imprison spirits that meet in freedom, just as we meet now.
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My child… Burn with honor, not with selfishness; the scorching pain you feel is the testament to your noble essence. Patience through longing is dignity, and wishing well for the beloved, even in absence, is the highest realm of love—one you can proudly present to the heavens.
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My child… Turn the thorns into a path of resilience; those who planted thorns in your way sought to break your resolve. Turn away from them, and let the purity of your love be a sublime weapon that shames their vile envy.
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My child… Sleep with a peaceful eye; leave the spirit awake to commune with their specter in peace, and rest your weary body in your world. For I have a heart here that guards your slumber with eternal prayers, and I shall come to you whenever doubts cloud your mind, to be your pillow and your sanctuary.
