About Love (From Arabic Literature)
I have collected the following thoughts about love from Arabic literature hoping to inspire writers.
In the terminology:
It is strange, isn’t it? Everyone knows what love is, yet, nobody could define it. — Ali Tantawi
The nature of love:
Love is the most coward creature in the world, yet, the strongest. It hides in the looks of the lovers’ eyes, between their lips when they smile, in the shiver of their voices when they speak. Yet, when it appears to the world, it changes everything; it builds cities and destroys others, takes lives and makes even more! — Ali Tantawi
You are my prison, and my freedom is within you. You are the one I hate, and the one I love is you! — Ziyad Rahbani
After we were just having fun and humor, it became true; I realized that I am fond of your eyes, and I spent the night with a wounded heart. — Thuraia Qabel
I like her, and she likes me. Heck! even our pets like each other. — old saying
happiness can only be seen by four eyes. — Abbas Alaqqad
The tears you see on my cheeks are not tears. I flamed my eyes to see you, so, they melt. — Turkey almezani
In the battle field
While the lances were thrusted in my body and the swords were covered with my blood, I thought of you. And, I wanted to kiss the swords of my enemies because they shone as bright as the flash of your fore tooth when you smile. — Antara Ibn Shaddad
I lost my convoy in the middle of the desert to come and look for myself in your eyes. I came to your land, like a child, holding my sweet dreams. Not until I saw your eyes and thought the sun has shone after a long night, you instilled your hands to excel my veins and smashed, without hesitation, my hopes. Oh, I am lost, and my ship has sailed away. Oh, I am exiled and the foreign soldiers settled in my home and destroyed all my lovely things. Oh lances of hatred, get through my body and pull apart my guts. Screaming, whilst the sword of treachery is shoved in my side. — Hasan Almarwani
The places you have been through are living in my soul. However, I couldn’t find you in the places. Every time I ask a place for you, I hear the past speak. — Mansour Alshadi
What am I supposed to tell him when he comes to ask me- do I hate him or cherish him? What should I say when his fingers pick the night of my hair? How am I supposed to act when he moves his seat next to mine and lay his hand on my back?
Am I truly his love? How should I believe him after he left me? Has not our story ended years ago? Have not we break the glasses we used to drink with?
god, his small things that he left behind are torturing me. There is his newspaper neglected in the corner of the room. Here is a book we used to read together.
Why am I looking at the mirror thinking which dress should I wear to meet him? Do I still hate him? But, how am I supposed to run away from him? — Nizar Qabbani
Love is not an eastern story that ends with the heroes getting married. Love is sailing without a boat, our feeling that arrival is impossible. — Nizar Qabbani
Thank you for having the time to read this. If you like it and want to read more, hit the heart/like/recommendation button, and I will be happy to write more.