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Sample Writings

Untitled documentSample Writings

I Will Return

Selected from the book entitled Arrows & Spears (p.42)


There, in the remote parts of the clear blue sky,
Behind those pure snow-white clouds,
God created a magic place of magnificent beauty,
That the spirits of the wretched and the sorrowful yearn for,
To this remote and joyful place, I will return.


There, behind the transparent clouds,
The lights shine from a radiant glittering star;
Behind this lovely jewel glowing permanently,
God created a fascinating world
Longed for by the bewildered souls seeking peace and rest.
To this place of perpetual light and resplendence, I will return.


There, behind the eternal galaxy,
Distances die out, and remoteness perishes.
Those who are ordained to cross beyond it,
Will find a strange paradise that God created for His chosen ones.
To this paradise of infinite bliss and joy, I will return.


There, behind the strange nebulae,
Hazy visions dance and fantasies live.
In these virgin places, pleasant young girls of hope wander freely,
And print with their tender lips fragrant kisses
On the mouths of the worthy and deserving.
To this fascinating home granted by the Providence to the weary, I will return.


There, where heavenly flashes of lightening collide,
Where meteors penetrate the confines of forbidden spheres,
And from behind hills of gold, turquoise, coral and chrysolite,
And mountains of precious stones and onyx,
And valleys of cornelian, and plains of emerald and ruby,
The river of Paradise penetrates the city of peace.
To this magic city resting in silence, I will return.


There, for that place that is inaccessible to the mind of man,
The place, which God has prepared for his loved ones,
A place which is inconceivable to man,
And which has not, as yet, been described by a writer's pen,
My heart yearns, and my soul longs.
And to that place, my beloved ones, I will soon return.

The Salibi farm,
Souk El-Gharb, Lebanon
Sunday morning
June 25, 1944

I Will Write Your Name
Dedicated to Voota
A poem selected from the book Winged Poems,
published as one of a series of volumes entitled
  Gardens of the Gods Adorned with Roses of Paradise (p. 59)


I will write your lovely name on the seashore,
For the waves, interlacing and chasing one another,
To kiss it with great eagerness and passion.

*  *  *

I'll write it on the fresh and tender branches of the trees,
So that the nightingales may perch on these green branches:
For they may then perfect their unusually lovely songs.

*  *  *

I'll paint it on the wings of the colored and adorned butterflies,
To add to the splendor of those strangely-colored creatures,
So that they may hover around, flitting here and there
And kissing the fragrant flowers of the meadows.

*  *  *

I'll engrave it on the solid rocks,
So that their iron rigidness may melt in worship,
For your pleasant name will soften mute objects,
Animating them into living creatures,
So that they utter and sing the praises of their Creator.

*  *  *

When wars break out, bitter hostilities are unleashed,
Like satanic devils:
With the bullets of their guns, and the steel of their terrifying tanks
They harvest thousands of youths in the infernal war arena;
But as soon as the enemies at war see your divine name,
The whizz and whistle of the volcanic machine-guns is silenced
And the sound of the earth-shaking bombs is struck dumb,
And the hitherto hostile bands, extend and join in greeting,
So that peace prevails, and anxious minds begin to rest.

*  *  *

I'll paint it across the wide expanses of space
So that the rain falls in torrents reviving plants and animals,
It will bring abundance, and the poor will rejoice,
When their crops flourish, and their minds are at rest.

*  *  *

With your name, I will ornament the pollen of the flowers,
So that their buds may open up and blossom,
And the scent they release may spread and increase,
The roses will smile, and the jasmine will laugh,
The violets will bow, and the chamomile will dance,
Rejoicing at the sound of your strange exquisite name.

*  *  *

I will etch your name on the horns of the mountain goats
And the brows of the gazelles,
So they may break loose into the virgin forests,
Their hearts full of joy,
Boasting and raising their heads high in pride,
Because of the beauty of your much desired name.

*  *  *

I will embellish with your name the doors of the sad and sorrowful,
And the windows of widows and the bereaved families,
Transforming their pain into happiness, and their sorrows into joy,
So they may glorify the name of the Maker, and Creator of all creatures.

*  *  *

I will write it down on the surface of the sea, and across the ocean,
To guide the ships that have lost their way
Back to their haven, safe and sound.

*  *  *

I will imprint it on the lyre,
To imbue its tunes with magic,
And to inject its rhythm with exquisite splendor.

*  *  *

I will suspend your name in the vastness of the huge galaxy,
To be seen by billions of stars floating in their orbits since eternity,
To add resplendence to their glitter, and unsurpassed brilliance to their rays.

*  *  *

I will engrave your beloved name
On the bottom of my heart which passionately overflow with your love;
Your divine love is an integral part of my heart,
And the Guide-star to my soul, directing it to its haven of safety.

*  *  *

In my last hour, I will write it with my trembling hand,
On my heart which has grown so fond,
So that it may accompany me to the next world to bring me joy,
Just as it had always brought me happiness on this wretched earth,
Oh! I have finally been guided to the right path,
For my heart is in its haven,
Singing in the world of eternity,
Before death falls upon me.

Beirut, 12:30 P.M.
June 18th, 1974

أُحِبُّ الكتُب

بقلَم الدكتور داهش 

أُحِبُّ الكُتُبَ حُبًّا جَمَّا

إذْ أَجُوبُ بواسِطتها ساحات الوغى،

وأَخوضُ غمار الأُوقيانوسَات الرهيبة،

ثمَّ أُحَلِّقُ في الأَعالي مُتحدِّيًا جبَابرة النُّسُور،

شاقًّا طريقي خلالَ الضبَاب العجيبِ الغريب،

ومن ثمَّ تراني جَوَّابًا للآفاق،

مُخترقًا الصَّحارى الشاسِعة، والبوادي الوَاسِعة،

مُندمجًا بالمهرجَانات الصاخبَة الضاجَّةِ بالأَفراح،

ثمَّ مُشاهدًا المآسي المُشبَعة بالأَتْراح،

وغير ذلك ممَّا تَزخرُ بهِ (كُرَتُنَا الأَرضيَّة)،

وبما يمثِّلُه سُكَّانُها من خيرٍ ومن شرّ.

جميعُ هذا أُشَاهِدُهُ دونَ أَن أَنتقِل من مكاني

بواسِطَةِ الكتاب.

فما أَحَبَّ الكتابَ إلى قلبي.

بيروت في 4/3/1973



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