Ahmad Shawqi

Ahmad Shawqi Poems

Peace from the northern wind that swept across Barada River.
As long as that wind sweeps, tears would be everlasting upon Damascus.
I excuse from all pens and rhymes if couldn't express the matter.
About its disaster catastrophic events, the pen couldn't describe.

Stand for the teacher and honor his rank...
...for a teacher is almost as a prophet
Do you know of someone nobler than...
...he who nurtures minds and hearts

On the plain, between the ban-tree and the mountain,
a white gazelle-fawn

Oh mother, how does the sky look? And what is light and what is the moon?
About their beauty you speak, but I don't see any of it.

I consider life a road
Upon which the masses travel
Toward specific missions
And other goals.

Is a draught that slakes. Those volumes
left me cross-eyed, condemned, naked

Here is the tale of the dog and the pigeon
A veritable testimony to the noble character of them both.

Day and night make one forget So, tell me about my early days
And describe that period of my youth that was shaped by imagination
Blew like the playful Saba (wind) and gone
Like a sweet drowse and a quick pleasure

I shall never forget a night in Ramadan,
Long and somber like the polar nights
I had just entered my room
After finishing my last meal before daybreak;

O' God !
I wander all day and pine through time,
And seek some comfort in my rhyme.
The noblest of rhymes overflow with love,
The sweetest line - the musical and pure -
Are written down for the heart as a cure.

Stop and enjoy your eyes with the beautiful nature.
What you see is the marvelous creating of Creator.
Earth and sky were shaking at rejoice attractively.
Under wonderful miracles bless with delightfully.

They deceived her Saying she is beautiful
And the beautiful are tempted With praise,
Does she pretend to forget my name
When many lovers fall in her love

Death overcomes upon everyone is alive undoubtedly.
Yet it harvests all generations up to now follow sequently.
Bygone people left the life century after century.
Neither foregone nor come after shall remain finally.

A Sultan once had a faithful companion
Always repeating verbatim

.A sail on Tigris River expands going forth in front of me
.My tears pray imploring not to viscous event attacks thee
.Glide on the water surface as floatable thing slowly
.Cross the water as the gleam guider that passes gently

The hoopoe stood submissively at King Solomon's door
And said: Help me, my Lord, help
My life has become dull and uninteresting
I have choked on a grain of wheat

I heard that once upon a time a peacock came to King Solomon,
Heading a delegation of feathery folks.

Of all the things that happened in Noah's Ark,
The strangest ever was when the monkey lied to Prophet Noah
One day he climbed onto the roof of the Ark,
And felt a hankering after some mischievous antics

Ahmad Shawqi Biography

Ahmed Shawqi (1868–1932) (Arabic: أحمد شوقي‎, Egyptian Arabic pronunciation: [ˈʔæħmæd ˈʃæwʔi]), nicknamed Amir al-Sho'araã (which literally means the prince of poets), was one of the greatest Arabic poets laureate,[1] an Egyptian poet and dramatist who pioneered the modern Egyptian literary movement, most notably introducing the genre of poetic epics to the Arabic literary tradition. On the paternal side he was of Circassian, Greek[2] and Kurdish descent,[3] and on the maternal side of Turkish and Greek descent.[4] Raised in a privileged setting with Turkish, Kurdish, Circassian, Greek, and Arab roots,[5] his family was prominent and well-connected with the court of the Khedive of Egypt. Upon graduating from high school, he attended law school, obtaining a degree in translation. Shawqi was then offered a job in the court of the Khedive Abbas II, which he immediately accepted. After a year working in the court of the Khedive, Shawqi was sent to continue his studies in Law at the Universities of Montpellier and Paris for three years. While in France, he was heavily influenced by the works of French playwrights, most notably Molière and Racine. He returned to Egypt in 1894, and remained a prominent member of Arab literary culture until the British forced him into exile in southern Spain, Andalusia, in 1914. Shawqi remained there until 1920, when he returned to Egypt. In 1927 he was crowned by his peers Amir al-Sho’araa’ (literally, "the Prince of Poets") in recognition of his considerable contributions to the literary field. He used to live in ‘Karmet Ibn Hani’ or Ibn Hani’s Vineyard at Al-Matariyyah area near the palace of the Khedive Abbas II at Saray El-Qobba until he was exiled. After returning to Egypt he built a new house at Giza which he named the new Karmet Ibn Hani.[6] He met Mohammed Abdel Wahab, and introduced him for the first time to art, making him his protégé as he gave him a suite in his house. The house later on became Ahmed Shawki Museum and Mohammed Abdel Wahab became one of the most famous Egyptian composers. Shawqi’s work can be categorized into three main periods during his career. The first coincides with the period during which he occupied a position at the court of the Khedive, consisting of eulogies to the Khedive: praising him or supporting his policy. The second comprised the period of his exile in Spain. During this period, his feeling of nostalgia and sense of alienation directed his poetic talent to patriotic poems on Egypt as well as the Arab world and panarabism. The third stage occurred after his return from exile, during that period he became preoccupied with the glorious history of Ancient Egypt and Islam. This was the period during which he wrote his religious poems, in praise of the Prophet Muhammad. The maturation of his poetic style was also reflected in his plays, the most notable of which were published during this period. He died in 1932.)

The Best Poem Of Ahmad Shawqi


Peace from the northern wind that swept across Barada River.
As long as that wind sweeps, tears would be everlasting upon Damascus.
I excuse from all pens and rhymes if couldn't express the matter.
About its disaster catastrophic events, the pen couldn't describe.
Its reminiscence on my heart still is glimpsing.
My heart palpates and never can forget it.
The catastrophic event you complain and suffer.
Resulted into, the pain of my heart on its deep wound.
I inter Damascus when the dusk overlaps.
Its appearance is bright and pleasurable.
Across its gardens, rivers flow everywhere.
Its mounds are painted with greenish verdures permanently.
There beside me estimable young guys joyfully are sitting.
They have priority on virtue and seniority.
Between the presences there are many witty poets.
Besides orators of sweetened tongues who say the beautiful speech.
They often relate my poems.
I admire when I notice my poems upon every tongue.
The lions are shameful when compare itself with them.
On the honorable esteem no one could precede them.
Everyone of those forefathers he is belonged.
Who he is of highborn snaffle bit, refuses the disgrace.
Curst upon it, what a bad news it is!
Sequentially sting the ears of guardian by intolerable news.
It is far away of the world, methinks it is cut off.
But its atmosphere carries the light on the skylines that's Damascus.
The magnificence of events which distinguish its atmosphere,
Everyone methinks it is false but it is really true.
It is said that the signs of history were pulling out.
Moreover it is said that the symbols of its historical men were burned.
Doesn't ye Damascus the wet nurse of Islam?
Therefore all people must obey you equally.
Saladin is the crown of thy honorable reputation.
Whose his reputation is widely welcomed the everlasting of Islam champion.
Every climax predominated civilization governs the Earth.
It has the property which is borrowed from thy quality.
Thy highness is from the ornaments of ancient time deep-rooted.
And thy ground is from the historical jewelry takes its parchment.
You Damascus have built one day the big state and overwhelming regime.
Ye have the unsurpassable civilization; no rival can be estimated with you.
Thy famous history is familiar across all Syria.
The news of its weeding can be audible on Andalusia.
Woe unto thee! The immortal dwellings, what about you?
Is it really wiped out? Is it really?
Do the heaven chambers still arranged?
Do they have the same fashion of yesterday?
And what about the ornament of those beautiful blessed women?
It seems to me they were disgracing, no veil remaining unless tears up.
They appear while there is on the side of thickets, fire was set up.
And behind the thicket small chickens were feed on.
If they in general seek out to find the secure way,
The death approach so to speak is closer.
The ominous day of death and bombs that harvest people.
Behind Its skies lightnings and struck region.
If the bombs blow away, the horizon will be reddish.
On one phase, but otherwise the horizon will be blackish.
Ask who horrifies thy delicate status after thy weakness.
Is it there is difference between his heart and rocks?
The colonists even if they appear flexible.
They have the stiff hearts as if the rock never seems soft.
He throws you also France by his fierce nature of Arab enthusiasm.
He is the warrior who has the nature of battles boastfulness and boldness.
The colonists if someone asks them about his right.
May say they are just gang groups disobeyed our laws and our way.
The blood of the revolutionists, France knows it well.
And it knows that this blood is the way of liberty.
The blood sheds on their ground to flourishing its fertility as if the sky rains.
On the other hand it might keep their foodstuff sources by their hands.
The country which its youthful guys go ahead for death,
To sacrifice themselves in order to others will be alive.
Nations usually get foredoom by the sacrificing blood of their people.
How they at last turn to be enslaved and do not protect their properties?
O, Syrians don't dream the daydream but think for future.
Live the momently period rightfully.
It is the trickery of politics to invade nations by untruthful names.
Even it produces sometimes slaves through its members.
Many hunts seem for you submissive.
As if the neck of hanged man bends to thy killer.
The faults and the cracks of regime maybe recover at once or after awhile.
But the dispute between nations never gains the success.
I advise them while I am not an individual of this country's people.
Even if we are different in countries but we sacrifice for the same destiny.
We gather in spite of the countries have multiple names.
Since our common divider is the Arabic language undoubtedly.
Your position is between death and life. O, Syrians!
If you choose the worldly ease, you surely ask the worry toiling life.
Homelands have debt on the shoulder of every zealous person.
Whether this debt is current or later, the citizen must pay.
Who he is not drink and not eat the bitter taste of destiny.
Those who claim the liberty never will be his friend.
And will not build the homeland as those who sacrificed themselves.
And merit not the rights of citizenship unless he does his duty.
The sacrifice souls give the uprising generations the renewed power.
And between those captured men there is reason for the freedom of others.
The red freedom has only one indisputable opened door.
It is the sacrifice for the purpose to be alive at pleasure.
I ask the God to reward you people of Damascus.
The pioneer of the glory of East surely is Damascus.
You are the supporters of your brothers at catastrophic days.
Every brother shall help his brother indeed that's the truthful manner.
The Drooze Sect never who seek vicious action.
Even you consider them as small nation wrongfully.
They were hospitable of good highbred nation.
They develop between the hard and the soft whenever the needs call for.
They have lofty mountain which its peak imitates the sky.
It appears white between the darkened reddish clouds.
Every lion or lioness has strife against its own desire.
Will leap when the risks encircle him, or felt is blockaded.
As if he has inherited the good prosperities of (Alsomaoal) the bold warrior.
Therefore all of its characteristics; are of honour and good nature equally.

Ahmad Shawqi Comments

Abdullah Al-shatri 11 January 2014

could you add more lines for the teacher's poem, please? thank you very much! Abdullah

15 9 Reply
Abdullah Al-shatri 11 January 2014

could you add more lines for the teacher's poem, please? thank you very much! Abdullah

10 9 Reply
Abdullah Al-shatri 11 January 2014

could you add more lines for the teacher's poem, please? thank you very much! Abdullah

11 7 Reply
Abdullah Al-shatri 11 January 2014

could you add more lines for the teacher's poem? thank you very much

7 11 Reply
asaad 14 January 2022

how do i translate from english to arabic

0 0 Reply
Dr. Eman Hassan 07 February 2020

Poemhunter needs to list the names of translators and also ask for permission to use them: one of my Shawqi translations, " Latitudes Beneath your Lids" , is up here and I took liberty modernizing the narrative: this context needs to be added too.

1 0 Reply
Najla 17 February 2019

Could you make the translation for al hamziya al nabawiyah please

4 1 Reply
harry 21 February 2018

nice poem well done nice poem well done nice poem well done nice poem well done nice poem well done nice poem well done

4 3 Reply
Ahmed Shawki 15 December 2017

The mother is a school if you prepare it, I prepared a good people, Ahmed Shawki

5 3 Reply

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