I lived from 1923-1998.
Qabbani was revered by generations of Arabs for his sensual and romantic verse. His work was featured not only in his two dozen volumes of poetry and in regular contributions to the Arabic-language newspaper Al Hayat, but in lyrics sung by Lebanese and Syrian vocalists who helped popularize his work.
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Through a lifetime of writing, Qabbani made women his main theme and inspiration. He earned a reputation for daring with the publication in 1954 of his first volume of verse, "Childhood of a Breast," whose erotic and romantic themes broke from the conservative traditions of Arab literature. The suicide of his sister, who was unwilling to marry a man she did not love, had a profound effect on Qabbani. Thereafter, he expressed resentment of male chauvinism and often wrote from a woman's viewpoint and advocated social freedoms for women.
He had lived in London since 1967 but the Syrian capital remained a powerful presence in his poems, most notably in "The Jasmine Scent of Damascus."
After the Arab defeat in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, he founded the Nizar Qabbani publishing house in London, and his became a powerful and eloquent voice of lament for Arab causes.
Qabbani was a committed Arab nationalist and in recent years his poetry and other writings, including essays and journalism, had become more political. His writing also often fused themes of romantic and political despair.
Qabbani's later poems included a strong strain of anti-authoritarianism. One couplet in particular -- "O Sultan, my master, if my clothes are ripped and torn it is because your dogs with claws are allowed to tear me" -- is sometimes quoted by Arabs as a kind of wry shorthand for their frustration with life under dictatorship.
His second wife, Balqis al-Rawi, an Iraqi teacher whom he had met at a poetry recital in Baghdad, was killed in a bomb attack by pro-Iranian guerrillas in Beirut, where she was working for the cultural section of the Iraqi Ministry.
Nizar Qabbani died in London of a heart attack at the age of 75
Popular poetry
When I love
I feel that I am the king of time
19 lines, 10 comments
(A Letter to a Man)
(1)
93 lines, 16 comments
We are accused of terrorism
If we dare to write about the remains of a homeland
86 lines, 8 comments
raise me more love… raise me
my prettiest fits of madness
51 lines, 9 comments
My darling, I have much to say
Where o precious one shall I begin ?
24 lines, 10 comments
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
9 lines, 3 comments
When I love you
A new language springs up,
21 lines, 4 comments
If you are my friend...
Help me...to leave you
40 lines, 9 comments
I do not resemble your other lovers, my lady
should another give you a cloud
8 lines, 6 comments
Friends
The old word is dead.
175 lines, 5 comments
He lets me listen, when he moves me,
Words are not like other words
30 lines, 6 comments
The face of Qana
Pale, like that of Jesus
133 lines, 3 comments
She sat with fear in her eyes
Contemplating the upturned cup
114 lines, 4 comments
Your love taught me to grieve
and I have been in need, for centuries
98 lines, 7 comments
"I have no power to change you
or explain your ways
55 lines
When a man is in love
how can he use old words?
13 lines, 5 comments
Do not ask me, the name of my love
I fear for you, from the fragrance of perfume
25 lines, 1 comment
My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
53 lines, 2 comments
Love happened at last,
And we entered God's paradise,
13 lines, 1 comment
I wept until my tears were dry
I prayed until the candles flickered
37 lines, 2 comments
Every time I kiss you
After a long separation
6 lines, 8 comments
My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
6 lines, 7 comments
When the moon is born in the east,
And the white rooftops drift asleep
78 lines
Do not say my love was
A ring or a bracelet.
8 lines, 2 comments
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Blow rains of melodious lights,
28 lines, 2 comments
Oh, my love
If you were at the level of my madness,
10 lines, 3 comments
I conquer the world with words,
conquer the mother tongue,
12 lines, 1 comment
Good morning sweetheart.
Good morning my Saint of a sweetheart.
99 lines
The last walls of shame fell,
And we rejoiced...
132 lines, 1 comment
My voice rings out, this time, from Damascus
It rings out from the house of my mother and father
265 lines
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