I Look Up to the Sky

We present this work in honor of Shavout.

Samuel ibn Naghrillah
Arab Andalusian
993 – 1056

 

I look up to the sky and the stars,
And down to the earth and the things that creep there.
And I consider in my heart how their creation
Was planned with wisdom in every detail.
See the heavens above like a tent,
Constructed with loops and with hooks,
And the moon with its stars, like a shepherdess
Sending her sheep into the reeds;
The moon itself among the clouds,
Like a ship sailing under its banners;
The clouds like a girl in her garden
Moving, and watering the myrtle-trees;
The dew-mist—a woman shaking
Drops from her hair to the ground.
The inhabitants turn, like animals, to rest,
(Their palaces are their stables);
And all fleeing from the fear of death,
Like a dove pursued by the falcon.
And these are compared at the end to a plate
Which is smashed into innumerable shards.

At the Court of Abu Inan

We present this work in honor of Dia de Andalucia.

Ibn al-Khatib
Arab Andalusian
1313 – 1374

 

Caliph of god!
Wish destiny increased your glory
as long as the moon shines in obscurity!
Wish the hand of Providence kept out from you
all dangers that men force cannot avoid.
In our afflictions your appearance is for us
like the moon dispersing the darkness.
In times of penury your hand replaces the rain
spreading abundance.
Without your help,
The people of Andalusian could not conserve
their habitation, neither their land.
In a word, this country doesn’t feel but a lone necessity:
to protect your Majesty.
Those who experiment your favour never were ungrateful;
they never were unaware of your profits.
And now, when they fair for their existence,
they send me to you and wait.

The Mirror

In honor of Tu B’Shavat, we present this work by one of Arab Andalusia’s greatest Jewish poets.

Judah Halevi
Arab Andalusian
1075 – 1141

 

Into my eyes he lovingly looked,
My arms about his neck were twined,
And in the mirror of my eyes,
What but his image did he find?

Upon my dark-hued eyes he pressed
His lips with breath of passion rare.
The rogue! ‘Twas not my eyes he kissed;
He kissed his picture mirrored there.

The Incense Burner

Abus Salt
Arab Andalusian
1067 – 1134

 

Though its heart was all aflame.
Yet it never knew that same
Grief of parting, and that woe
Sundered lovers know.

When the lightning of the wine
Bathed the drinkers in its shine,
What a brave cloud billowed thence
Sweet with frankincense!
Never saw I, all my days,
Such a conflagration blaze
To persuade the revellers
Paradise was theirs.

My Heart

We present this work in honor of the poet’s 1,025th birthday.

Ibn Hazm
Arab Andalusian
994 – 1064

 

I would split open my heart
with a knife, place you
within and seal my would,
that you might dwell there
and never inhabit another
until the resurrection and
judgment day — thus you
would stay in my heart
while I lived, and at my death
you too would die in the
entrails of my core, in
the shadow of my tomb.