Dr. Mostapha Helwe
President of the Arab Philosophical Union
Introduction/ Love - Passion from "The Dove's Necklace" to "Love Quintets"
"Love begins as jest and ends in earnest. Its meanings are too subtle to be described, and its true nature can only be grasped through suffering. (...) Love—may God protect you—is a debilitating ailment, and within it lies its cure, proportionate to the suffering. It is a pleasurable affliction, a desired malady. (...) I knew a young man, an acquaintance, who was consumed by love and entangled in its snares. Longing harmed him, and illness afflicted him. (...) His only plea was for union and possession of the one he loved, despite his great affliction and prolonged sorrow. What then of a sick man who desires nothing?" Has he lost his illness?! (...) And in a similar vein, I say: I relish my affliction in you, my hope / And I will not turn away from you for all time / If I am told to forget her affection / My only answer is the letter "L" and the letter "A".
These are clear fragments, revolving around the description of love and observing some of its symptoms—both sweet and bitter—presenting the state of a young man who has sunk into the mire of love and become entangled in its web! Despite his wretched condition, as longing overwhelms him and the beloved's abandonment torments him, he prays to God that the era of union may return! It is as if this lover accepts for himself more of the torment of love, so that his beloved becomes his cure, while she is the source of his ailment! And if he is told: You will forget her with time, his answer is rejection!
These are fragments, signed by one of the great early Arab scholars, Ibn Hazm al-Andalusi al-Qurtubi (994-1064 CE). We have extracted these excerpts from his work "The Ring of the Dove," considered one of the most prominent works/sources produced by Arab—and indeed global—thought in approaching the theme of love and passion. It is a veritable encyclopedia, an indispensable resource for anyone seeking to explore love and delve into all its dimensions!
As Ibn Hazm touches upon the signs of love throughout the thirty chapters of this book, we have selected some of them, not to expand upon the book or review its various opinions, but to benefit from them in our approach to Charbel Baini's thesis of love, and in exploring the paradise of passion and the labyrinths our poet traverses. This will allow our research to be founded on solid principles, possessing profound characteristics relevant to the era of humanity!
Thus, "The Ring of the Dove" becomes our compass, guiding us in uncovering the issues Baini addresses as he navigates the complexities of love. For five decades, armed with the most lethal weapons of love, and adept at their use!
In examining the two treatises on love, Ibn Hazm and al-Baini, we will find that the human soul is one, feelings are similar, and the human being, by nature, is inclined to love, the same throughout the ages. Outward appearances may change, but the essence remains; the shells may shift, but the core endures!
Indeed! Love has signs, as the Andalusian scholar observes: "The first is an addiction to gazing, for the eye is the open gateway to the soul, the one that delves into its secrets and reveals its innermost thoughts… Among these signs is the eagerness to go wherever the beloved is, the deliberate act of sitting near them, and the disregard for any serious matter that might lead to separation… And among its signs and manifestations, evident to every discerning eye, are: excessive relaxation in confined spaces and discomfort in spacious ones…" And deliberately touching hands during conversation and touching as much of the visible body as possible, and drinking the remainder of what the beloved left in the vessel (...) We find that lovers, if they are equal in love and it is confirmed between them with great certainty, their estrangement becomes frequent without meaning and their contradiction in speech is deliberate (...) but you will soon see them return to the most beautiful companionship, and the reproach is wasted, and the disagreement falls away (...) and sleeplessness is one of the symptoms of lovers, and poets have described it extensively, and they have said that they are the shepherds of the stars and the describers of the length of the night (...) and among its symptoms are intense anxiety and regret (...) and among its signs is that you see the lover love the family of his beloved (...) and crying is one of the signs of the lover, but they differ in it, some of them have abundant tears (...) and some of them have dry eyes, without tears (...) and in love there is suspicion and accusation of every word from one of them and directing it out of its meaning, This is the origin of reproach among lovers (...) and among its signs is the lover’s consideration for his beloved, and his preservation of everything that happens from him.”.. And regarding the mechanisms of love’s work and its tools - and from Ibn Hazm also - “The four senses are doors to the heart and gateways to the soul. The eye is the most eloquent, the most accurate in its indication, and the most comprehensive in its function… It is as if Ibn Hazm is adopting the theory of knowledge of the Greek philosopher Aristotle, the gist of which is: He who does not perceive cannot understand!
Turning these fragments, or rather, this exploration of love, into “love quintets,” we find ourselves confronted with a study by our poet that does not deviate from the general framework of what Ibn Hazm presented in “The Ring of the Dove,” with only minor differences. As we gather from some of his “quintets” what points to love—its definition, characteristics, manifestations, and implications—we arrive at the following observations:
- It was said long ago: “Madness has many forms!” And if love is categorized under madness, then our evidence is that many poets who suffered the affliction of love were known as the mad poets, and the books of Arabic literature are filled with their stories and biographies, their pioneer being Qays ibn… Al-Moulawah, nicknamed Majnun Layla...
In this context, Charbel Baini does not deviate from this description, as he suffered some of the intoxication and madness of love: “I became certain that love is half-sisters!”... Following a review of the relationship that binds him to his beloved, he declares the death of love, and the distances between them have widened, and his outings and meetings have dissipated, and he no longer mentions her, but rather goes to erase her from his memory! (Quintet: Madness).
And as for that "sisterhood," it can rob the lover of his senses, even render him "stoned," crippling his ability to express himself, so he remains speechless, neither in words nor song, as his beloved's face appears before him: "I want to sing to you... but I can't / My voice has been stolen... Don't laugh at me / When the light of your face shone before me / I couldn't say to you: Good morning / Nor could I sing you a song" (sing it).
Similar to the state of our poet (God forbid!) is what is said about what can happen to a groom on his wedding night, when his sexual ability is impaired by what the common people call "joy" (or "stoning")! At that point, the only cure is to take him to a sheikh/charlatan to undo his "joy" in exchange for money, so his instincts can return to normal!
And for the lovers' world to be at its best, the lover (the poet) must prove the baptism of his love, indeed his burning faith, by melting upon the beloved's breast!: "...And I heard your voice say: Oh, my eyes/ The world is ruined without you and me/ The pinnacle of your faith melts upon my breast" (Tawbah).
Love is unparalleled! For a poet to fall asleep in his beloved's warm embrace, her lips poised against his, is a treasure more precious than any gold: "If I were given the choice between all the wealth in the world / And a brief nap in your warm embrace / The money would vanish... You are here / Beside you, I see the sky without colour / Every time your lips devour mine" (You Are Here).
In such an intimate atmosphere, the beloved becomes, in our poet's eyes, the melody of a song and the tears in his eyes... And outside the alphabet of poetry and love, the beloved is unreadable! "...In poetry, my voice is the melody of a song / And in love, you are the tears in my eyes / And other than that, your words are difficult to read!" (Manliness).
And there will be no true love, nor will its bonds be strong, unless there is quarrels and resentment between the lovers! And since no language can appease the beloved, the poet has nothing left but kisses to plant on her cheeks—what a wonderful language! "You're upset... and I don't know how to calm you down / In what language on earth can I speak to you? / You don't understand me in Arabic / And I know a little English / So I resorted to kisses to appease you!" (Languages of the Earth).
And despite all the forms of discord, there will never be a final break, for there is always a return to the beloved, even if the poet hangs himself: "...Okay... just tell me what you want / No matter how far I go... I'll come back to you / So you can hang my heart" (Gallows).
Faced with this situation, and with pride, the beloved is not surprised by the poet's acceptance of his unfortunate fate. She knows that he means her in everything he expresses in his poetry, and that he has loved no other. To solidify this love, which has taken hold of him, she implores him, in the name of love itself, to enshrine her image in his heart: "I swear by your love... everything you compose/ is wrapped in the letters of my name/ and my image is enshrined within your heart" (she said).
And if love has its own philosophy regarding time, then life is not measured by the number of years, but by the heartbeat, which alone heralds’ vitality and youth. From here the beloved rejects what our poet has said, as he calls himself "the old man," and calls on him to love her and stop repeating his tiresome "melody": "Don't fall in love with an old man! You told me! / You keep telling me this nonsense?! / I love you.. and life is a heartbeat / Sweet laughs with a love poem / And love me.. and don't expect anything in return" (nonsense).
On another level, outside the realm of love in its chaste form, and its "practical" translation—kissing, tickling, embracing, and smelling—our poet confronts his beloved with a "convincing" argument: had it not been for the sexual intimacy between her parents, she would never have seen the light of day! "...Love is kissing, tickling, and embracing / And if your father hadn't longed for sex / You would have remained in your mother's womb" (Sex).
Perhaps declaring love publicly sets things right, since the beloved is the most beautiful thing in his life: "...You have become the most beautiful thing in my life / I am reading it to people... Pray for me / So I may keep reading... And fall in love with you" (Who are you?). Consequently, love fills the poet with joy and happiness, lengthening his life: "Keep laughing so my days may increase / My heart is content with seeing you, joyful / And carpeting the paths with the sweetest flowers" (Keep laughing).
Furthermore, love grants our poet courage, enabling him to approach her without fear whenever he desires, and no one can stop him! "No one can bully me / Whenever I want to see you, I will see you" (Blood-willingness).
Possessing this courage, coupled with remarkable generosity, the lover (the poet) sacrifices everything precious for his beloved, who remains enthroned upon his chest and beside his heart. How sublime is this: "...Everything is cheap... as long as you are/ upon my chest, beside my heart, my strength/ and I offer you this Eid, my eyes!" (Eid gift).
And to the eyes, the beloved asks, for she also has his heart and what remains of his life! "How can I please you/ when all happiness is tied to you/ I offer you my eyes... you say:/ I want my heart... dwell within my heart/ and give me what remains of my life." (I want my heart).
In the midst of his beloved's joy, as the poet playfully pinches her waist, she cries out, "I'm going to die laughing!" He replies, "I tell you: my heart is a coffin for you / Without you, its beats cease!" Thus, she is the one who sets his heartbeats to life, keeping him alive! (Pinch her).
And as love and faith contend, there is also the debate of love and peace. For corrupt rulers, devoid of conscience and heart, if they had experienced the bliss of love, would not have chosen the path of crime against their people: "...rulers without conscience or heart / If they lived like us in the bliss of love / They would not have committed crimes... nor would they have displaced their children" (The Bliss of Love). For love, in its all-encompassing human dimension, protects its possessor from all transgression!
And another debate, no less important, when the poet's birthplace and his beloved take turns inhabiting his heart, so that they may dwell within it and steal his eyes! And no wonder, for both are light from God cast into his breast! "Magdalene... how will I tell her/ that I have fallen in love with a crazy girl/ who has settled in my heart and stolen my eyes/ This is my village, girl, how beautiful it is/ You and she are light from God" (Magdalene).
No matter what happens, and no matter how circumstances change, the beloved will remain a major title in his poetry. She will remain inhabiting his imagination, and possessing his heart and feelings. She remains a flower hanging on the door of his house, and whenever he enters it, she appears before his eyes: “Don’t think that the poems will end / And I will no longer sing of your eyes / You will remain with me... however my imagination wanders / And I will draw you as a flower on the door of the house / Every time you pass by... I will gaze at you” (Zahra).
"Love Quintets," a poetic form, and the place of the collection within Al-Baini's amorous journey! One hundred and fifty-three "quintets," belonging to the art of love poetry, in its two forms: the chaste, imbued with a touch of spirituality, and the sensual, which, at certain points, tends towards lustful desire, albeit not to a high degree!
As we trace our poet's journey in the art of love poetry and in relation to women, over fifty-two years, three milestones stand out. The first began in 1968 with his "Adolescent," a collection blatant in its sexuality and immersion in eroticism, bordering on obscenity—which is precisely what the poet said: "And the poets - [only] the misguided follow them. Do you not see that in every valley they roam aimlessly, and that they say what they do not do?" (Quran, Surah Ash-Shu'ara: 227)—leading us to the second of these milestones, with his magnificent collection "A Love Symphony." (1989), where there was a noticeable lull in his passionate fervour, accompanied by a marked calm, leading to a leaning towards ascetic mysticism, which added dimensions of sanctity to love and to women!... And ending with the third phase, with "Love Quintets," whose poems were composed between 2018 and 2020. These poems/quintets oscillate between chaste love—as mentioned earlier—and "unrestrained" flirtation, within acceptable limits, while incorporating themes inspired by the era and its achievements, represented by the debate surrounding love and social media (Facebook and WhatsApp), and a deep reflection on the Corona era (ten poems/quintets), whose woes humanity is experiencing, as if we are facing a third world war with a biological dimension!... All of this lends a contemporary relevance to our poet's literary output, a necessary modernity, for literature is a product of its environment. His era interacts with them, keeping pace with them on all levels.
The writer Michel Hadid, who wrote the introduction to "Adolescence" (third edition, 1987), was able to grasp the defining characteristic of this collection, stating: "The poet explodes with instinct, indulging his violent desires to the point of declaring woman a goddess of arousal, pleasure, and debauchery." He added: "There is no trace of love in 'Adolescence,' only erotic, sweeping, sexually explicit poetry... A teenager writes about his adolescence and his romantic adventures without shame, fear, or hesitation!"
In response to this collection and its contents, critics and social and religious conservatives were quick to condemn it, considering it a dangerous transgression of prevailing social values and a direct threat to the new generation. These critics, unwittingly, promoted this book!
It should be noted that the writer, Hadid, believes that this style of erotic poetry, which our poet abandoned long ago—nineteen years had passed since the first edition—constitutes an important stage in his long poetic career.
Despite abandoning this style of poetry, Al-Baini, as far as we know, still yearns for that collection, which he considers his "firstborn!"... He also longs for that vibrant period of his early youth. On July 25, 2018, at the invitation of "Wednesday Gathering," he celebrated the golden jubilee of "Adolescence" (1968-2018). Indicative of this overwhelming longing is the powerful poem he recited at the celebrated event: "...And I'm still living on the memory..." and "Fifty years, oh adolescent, have passed as if..." A dream/ (...)/ Don't laugh at me/ O firstborn of my children" (from the poem "Omar"). And from the poem "Old Man", which was included in the new edition of the collection (2018): "And like a butterfly, he committed suicide by fire/ Old man, O Charbel, you have become an old man!"
As we pause at the second station, "A Love Symphony"—first published in 1989, though reprinted twice more (2010 and 2016)—Charbel Baini takes a mystical turn, "climbing towards God," as writer Joseph Bou Melhem says in his introduction to the first edition. He also "pebbles on the strings of the heart, and the veins of the earth woven from the folds of the ribs." In a reflection on this collection, Bou Melhem asks: "Is the ignorance of forty approaching early? Or has poetry completed its first cycle, so that 'A Love Symphony' has come as the first of the coming seasons, just as 'Adolescence' was the first of the past seasons?" Unlike his "adolescent" poems, which followed a single path, dripping with eroticism, our poet, in "A Symphony of Love," "doesn't play on a single string. At times, he is intensely licentious, wildly passionate (...) and at others, he is monastic in his desire, ascetic in his yearning!"
In observing this particular characteristic of his approach to women—a phenomenon, as we see it, that extends to all his beloveds and throughout his collections—"the most beautiful thing about his poetry is that for him, woman is simply a woman, freed from the gaze of the pre-Islamic man." She is, in his words, "...and for him, woman remains, in his utopian and licentious poems alike, a river of purity and a cascade of emotion. Nay, she is purer than the holy books."
While al-Baini is credited with distancing himself from the pre-Islamic poets and their imitators regarding women, this characteristic unites him with Ibn Hazm, the enlightened scholar (the two are separated by more than a thousand years!), who declares in the introduction to "The Ring of the Dove" that he will disregard the views of pre-Islamic poets on women: “...and leave me to the noble Bedouin poets of the past, for their path is not our path, and much has been said about them. It is not my way to ride another’s mount nor to adorn myself with borrowed ornaments.”
“Love Quintets” ... When al-Baini Enters the Paradise of Love... and its Labyrinths!
In our exploration of “Love Quintets,” we have been careful to review all the quintets and to draw upon a large number of them, thus lending our perspective authenticity. We have not overlooked any “non-tedious” detail that might serve the approach we are pursuing.
In grasping the most important themes that mark our poet's path, we find that by entering the world of his beloved woman, he entered the lush paradise of this realm, just as he ventured into its labyrinths. He began to Savour the sweetness of those paradises and to drink the bitterness of the labyrinths! His path was strewn with the most beautiful and fragrant roses, but beneath the roses lay thorns... indeed, beneath his paradise lay a clamour of pain, tears, anxiety, and obsessions!
As we leave this theme/compass and delve into its implications, we pause at the following points:
A- Confessing and Publicly Declaring Love!
"Perhaps one of the reasons for revealing (that is, revealing love) is the overwhelming power of love and the triumph of open declaration over modesty (...) and this is one of the ultimate aims of love and its strongest hold on reason."
This is what Ibn Hazm concluded regarding the challenge faced by the lover in declaring his love, and in his beloved declaring this love. To support his view, Ibn Hazm added that he had read in some accounts of the Bedouin that "their women are not convinced or believe in a lover's love for them until he becomes famous, reveals his love, and openly proclaims and praises them."
Thus, Charbel Baini faced this challenge, and he fearlessly declared his love openly, paying no heed to his beloved's family if they stood in the way of their love, especially the strict mother! He sends a message to the mother, via her daughter, making it abundantly clear that he will not renounce his love for her, and that she can "pave the world up" (a reference to a popular Egyptian song): "...She doesn't know my love for her, really/ Tell her I won't renounce her/ She can pave the whole world up" (Anger).
This "obsessive" mother—if you will—poses a formidable obstacle to his love, for she is always by her daughter's side when he meets her, thus depriving our poet of a kiss and a hug: "One of you put the chair next to you/ (...) Your mother is always sitting next to you/ And how am I supposed to kiss you and hug you?" (A reference to a popular Egyptian song).
In an unfriendly stance, this stubborn mother, who stands in the way of their love, obstructing its path, calls on her to submit to him and sell him her "silence": "I need to see the smile on your face / And for your mother to be pleased and silent / Your mother is standing in your way" (your mother).
In blatant defiance, he urges his beloved not to fear people, for he desires to kiss her in broad daylight, just as he desires to drink the wine of her saliva, so that she may pour him a thousand cups! "Turn on the light, don't be afraid of people / In the light, your mouth longs to be kissed / You are mine, and whatever happens, happens!" (Your saliva is wine).
He also began urging his beloved not to fear the blame of any critic in matters of love: "You stood with me in front of the house door / And didn't invite me for a drop of water / You were afraid of what people would say... I was poisoned by your words / And from your fear, for no reason, I went mad / I will cut out the tongues of the people of the neighbourhood" (fear)... So, by exposing her to that fear that befell her, the fear of being slandered by the people of the neighbourhood, and the threat of cutting out their tongues... all of that constitutes an invitation for her to cast aside her fear, so that she might hasten to declare her love for him!
In this vein, our poet calls for raising one's voice, abandoning shyness, and not running away from her love. He secretly embraces her waist, even urging her to remain natural, for no matter how hard she tries to conceal it, her love will be exposed sooner or later: "Why do you whisper among people? / And shy away from touch? / My hand secretly embraces your waist. / Don't pretend... your secret will be revealed. / A small lie can't hide the sun." (Don't pretend).
In a decisive moment, he calls upon her to declare her love for him in a manner akin to a confession, and to follow it with a prayer for his long life and happiness: "Say: I love him, I desire him. / May God increase his happiness. / Lucky is the young man you love." (Lucky).
In the same vein, the beloved is expected to be even more open in expressing her love than our poet. He rejoices when she whispers in his ear that he is the soul's beloved: "You Walk... and I walk with you / You whisper to me... I hear you: / You are the soul's beloved" (Soul's Beloved).
Through a blatant display of narcissism, our poet asks his beloved to close her eyes, to dream and murmur, offering her life for him, praying that God protects and preserves him, and declaring that the world has no meaning without him!: "Close your eyes... so I can see you asleep / Dreaming and murmuring: My soul is yours / May God protect you, O Charbel, fasting / And your love in my heart is an eternal joy / What is the world, tell me, if it were without you?" (Fasting). And to add to those situations, where the beloved openly declares her love, where happiness exists only by his side, and where she is completely immersed in him, let us hear her eulogized: "And you said: All happiness is in you / Oh, beloved of my heart, who is like you / And you drown in me at your leisure" (Beloved of my heart).
B- In the colours of suffering... and the pangs of longing! (Glory be to Him, the Most High)... the Subduer who subdued men with their love (i.e., the love of women), and to them they submit (i.e., surrender) and rely (i.e., depend) (...) the Humiliator, who humbled the hearts of lovers with separation (departure), and burned their livers with the fire of longing, and decreed upon them humiliation, degradation, and wretchedness through their submission in yearning for union.
It is suffering, in its various forms and symptoms, perhaps the most burdensome for the lover, and it occupies the largest space in his expression! Thus, like all poets who suffered greatly in their relationships with their beloveds, our poet dedicates about twenty "quintets" to the matter, expressing his pain as a result of the beloved's tyranny, manifested in inappropriate behaviour... or resorting to abandoning him, or leaving for another country, or returning to where she came from... all of these Misery enters his heart, making him prey to anxieties and doubts!
Perhaps at the root of his suffering lies that separation between them, for the poet cannot meet her, and thus endures the burning pangs of longing! He tried in vain: he wrote poetry, but it was useless!
He went mad, breaking his pen and throwing it as bait to the fire, and began burning his papers: "Is it possible that we will remain like this / Without meeting... And with burning hearts?" (I'm going mad).
As his beloved departs for another land, separated by the sea, the poet grieves her departure, wishing he could reach her, throw himself at her door, and offer her his arm to sleep upon! But alas, he fears the treachery of the sea: "If only I could reach you / And lay down at your door the heap of my years / So you could sleep "On my arm and spread your arm / (..) But the sea is treacherous, I can't bear it" (I wish).
And if separation from one's home, or distance, according to Ibn Hazm, is what "made poets weep over the ruins, (they) shed tears over the traces, and watered the dwellings with the water of longing, and remembered what had passed for them there, so they wailed and lamented, and the ruins revived the buried longing of their hearts, so they mourned and wept"... and in the face of this wretched reality, it was inevitable that it would lead to illness, emaciation, and weakness, and perhaps that would confine him to his sickbed.
In this vein, our poet longs to bring his beloved back from her journey. She left behind a photograph of them together, and he lives on the memory, yearning for her presence that haunts him. If he were to see her again, he would ask her what she desires, renewing their past vows: "If only I could bring you back from your travels / And tell you: Just tell me what you want / So I can revive the forgotten image" (Image).
As his beloved travels, heading for Beirut, darkness descends upon Sydney. The photograph she left behind seems to grieve for him, believing he will perish! Despite this suffering, his beloved remains in his thoughts, and Beirut, which holds her, resides in his heart: "Sydney has gone dark, and the houses are shrouded in gloom / (...) In my eyes, you are... and in my heart, Beirut" (Beirut).
With his beloved's departure to the ends of the earth, the rose she left behind withered, its fragrance fading, its colour lost: "I have no rose left to smell" (Perfume).
Regarding separation, longing, and the pain they inflict, our poet expresses his yearning for her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks, her ears... and, encompassing all her senses: "Hands that became companions to mine," and cries out, "Believe me, separation is unbearable" (Farewell).
In another realm of suffering, the poet reveals his anguish, having become like a guard at the honey jars, yet deprived of tasting them! "Oh, my bee, my heart is broken / Standing guard at the honey jars / And deprived of tasting your honey" (Bee). In one scene of this suffering, having passed sixty, he retreated into the "ignorance" of this stage of life, but solitude offered him no solace. He was also shocked by the words of some women, words of pity that reopened the wounds of his pain, leaving him with no choice but to grit his teeth: "I try to recapture a little of my youth / I hear: The poor man has grown old / I dye my Gray hair... and swallow the knife" (The Ignorance of Sixty).
How our poet grieves, seeing Gray hair encroaching upon his head, while the night draws its darkness from the hair of his beloved! How could he find peace, seeing spring blossom in her life while autumn withers his own? But he quickly recovers, reassuring his beloved that, despite his old age, he is still capable of supporting a mountain (see the quintet: Spring).
In a display of disparagement of his poetic talent, he was deeply hurt by a woman, the very woman for whom he had written the most beautiful songs: "Your words have hurt me so much, so-and-so / You said I'm a poet and a poet / And my poetry is always messed up and broken / And I'm still speechless" (so-and-so).
Like Jesus Christ—and pardon the comparison! —our poet traverses the Calvary of love, hoping to achieve his desire, only to find his beautiful beloved searing his heart and intensifying its flames! And with sadistic gloating: "And you rejoice in the sighs of my groans / And you leave me crucified on the path" (crucified).
Our poet is pained and saddened by his beloved's lies, for she breaks promises and claims, even swears by his life, that she has forgotten, while in reality she is feigning forgetfulness and ignoring him! "I waited for you with coffee, a Chinese friend / You swore by my life: you forgot the appointment / Don't swear to me... and don't love me / Your lies are making me cry" (Don't swear).
Based on the principle that "the worst calamity is that which makes you laugh!", the lovesick lover might resort to light-hearted actions, such as spending his day or part of his night lurking beneath his beloved's window or within a few meters of her house, hoping she might appear so he can catch a glimpse or a wink! Thus, our poet was not spared from these practices. Like a small child, he waits for her, blocking her path: "I'm wasting my day waiting for a glimpse of you / Waiting on your path like a small child." And he does this because "I'm afraid that after you, my fire will be extinguished / And my flowers will wither with time" (Waiting).
In a similar scene, he stands beneath her window, "standing tall," hoping she will open her closed window so they can exchange glances: "How can I glimpse you, tell me / When your window is closed, you fool? / Go open the window and wait / For a sign to come to you, telling you that I'm / Standing tall beneath your window" (Sign).
Comment: When we and our peers embarked on the path of love, and suffered what we suffered from rejection, we exhibited childish behaviour. The well-known phrase, "Oh, how humiliating love is!" often echoed in our minds. Some who had gone through this experience even repeated an even more mocking phrase: "You who are afflicted with love, spit on yourself!"
C- In complaining... "Her nature is treachery!"
In parallel with our poet's suffering, and the anguish and burning pain of longing he endures, it is natural that he constantly complains about his beloved, who does not Honour the covenant of love, resorting to inappropriate behaviour that sows doubt in his heart and stirs up his anxieties! From the five-line poem "Khayyal" (Hunter), he goes on to say that she turns away from him, paying him no attention—he, the very horseman standing before her, "Sinka Taq!"—but rather she turns to another, which intensifies his pain, showering the new lover with a flood of laughter and smiles: "And a horseman stands beside you, tall and strong / For your sake, he makes his horses dance / And you, for another, shed your laughter!"
And how it pains our poet when he tries to kiss her, only to be turned away, leaving him without even a glance, attributing it to her coquettishness and flirtatiousness, but deep down he knows that this is not the case: "I tried to kiss you... but you refused / My heart tells me: The girl is coquettish / I lied to myself when you walked away / And without even looking up, you turned your back" (Qahharah).
And when her love kills him and makes him lose his mind, it is because she left him alone, drowning in his worries! His view of her has changed. He used to see her as a sun above the clouds, and a beauty queen, crowned by the stars, but today he sees her as a lying girl, because of what she did: “I used to see you as a sun above the clouds / A beauty queen crowned with stars / Now I see you as a lying girl” (Luck).
In his characteristic lament, the poet elevates his beloved's actions to the level of a crime! He showered her with bouquets of flowers as an expression of his overwhelming love, yet she failed to reciprocate. Instead, she burned the poems he wrote for her and discarded the flowers he offered, leaving them to wither... as if her thirst for betrayal hadn't been quenched! "I sang your praises so much... you didn't even ask / I scattered heaps of flowers before you / The greatest crime of love you committed / You burned the poems and withered the flowers / And your days of treachery never ceased" (Crime).
Another aspect of her betrayal was her escape from him, abandoning his loving heart and the bosom that had always sheltered her! "Why did you run away from me / And I see you as a treacherous girl / You left my heart, my bosom, and paradise / And all your concern was to distance yourself from me" (Distance). All these reprehensible behaviours she commits, from treachery and lying to jumping from one young man's arms to another, she wouldn't do them if, according to the poet, she didn't have a heart as hard as stone!
While condemning her shameful actions, he advises her to abandon them, for she will not achieve her goal, meaning that the path to marriage will not be paved for her: "Oh, cruel one... if you had a heart / Your heart would have guided you to your loved ones / From one young man you jump to another / Don't think this path will lead you there / You won't reach your destination... and your door will never open" (Oh, cruel one).
And since she appears as hard as stone, with no warmth to stir her feelings, and no response to anyone who tries to please her, even if it were God, our poet concludes that anyone who falls for her is truly insane! It's as if he's condemning their failed love affair: "He's madly in love with you / Like a rock, he longs to find you / No warmth stirs his feelings / And how can this man please you? / By God, it's difficult to please you" (Majnoon).
D- In the raging doubts... and the deadly jealousy!
Our poet wouldn't have fallen into the abyss of torment... nor would he have approached the brink of madness were it not for those doubts that tormented him, and the jealousy that consumed him!
Thus, he became prey to obsessive thoughts, assailing him from every direction!
And our poet wouldn't hide his "morbid" jealousy. He confesses that he's jealous of her laughter, of the ring of her cell phone, of her walk and her shadow, of her clothes that cling to her entire body... making him imagine that these clothes are kissing her! "I'm jealous, yes, I'm jealous, I'm telling you / of your laughter.. of the ring of the mobile phone / of the walk that your shadow follows / of the fabric that I kiss all of you / and I'm standing in front of you; I don't have the strength" (I'm jealous).
When he asks her about her delay or procrastination in making a decisive decision about their official commitment (marriage), something he has been waiting for so long, this procrastination arouses his suspicion. Perhaps she is preoccupied with a new love? And if that is true, he will unleash his fury and sweep her away from this world! "I've been waiting for you for so long... Tell me/ What's keeping you? I swear to God/ If you're preoccupied with a new love/ I'll go crazy... I'll unleash my fury/ To sweep you away from this whole world!" (Tell me).
As the poet grapples with the delusion of losing his beloved, he invokes Adam, the father of humanity, who was expelled from Paradise for Eve's sake. Adam, in this analogy, would have stolen his beloved had he entered her orchard and seen her bosom adorned with pomegranates and cherries: "If Adam rejoiced in his apple / And for Eve's sake, he left Paradise / What would have befallen him had he entered an orchard / Where cherry adorned breast of pomegranates? / Surely, my soul, he would steal you from me!" (Adam).
Our poet continues his reverie, inquiring of his "beloved" about his place among lovers, asking her if any of them had stolen her heart! What reinforces this obsession is that she has been lying to him for five years... and yet, despite this, he still longs to hear the words "I love you" from her lips! "Tell me my number among lovers / And tell me if someone else stole your heart / I don't feel your love... just guessing / You've been lying to me for five years / I want to hear the words 'I love you' again" (number).
And how consumed by jealousy our poet becomes when he learns—through his beloved's brother—that the mother has chosen a groom for her daughter! If the news is true, he will go mad, he will even go so far as to hang the prospective groom to remove him from the path of his love, and then all hell will break loose! "You have a new groom... your mother loves him/ And your brother said that in front of me/ I'm going crazy... I'm going to hang him by the neck/ After me, the world will end" (Qiyamah).
And among the scenes of that jealousy is what people gossip about her friendship with someone, paving the way for him to take advantage of her! And they warn her that this supposed groom will leave her, leaving wounds in her heart! "What is this talk about you? / Your name is on everyone's lips/ You were with him... they said: and your smile is bright/ After he takes the honey from you/ He will leave you with a wounded heart" (Majruha).
Our poet's condition worsened, and he began to be jealous of his own condition, which indicates - as we mentioned earlier - a pathological condition in him! Instead of being overwhelmed with happiness and his beloved, he is burning with the fire of jealousy! Ironically, he sees this as the most beautiful torment! “I wake up in the morning to write poems / I see you, my soul, a shining sun / And I become jealous of my own condition / And instead of happiness, I burn with fire / The most beautiful torment I live every day” (Torment).
It would have been easier if our poet's jealousy had remained within certain limits, but it crossed the line into a dark vision, to the point where he hated the world and its people, seeing only evil in humanity: "I'm ashamed to reveal secrets:/ Because of how much people loved you/ And said: Princess, and your crown is royal/ I hated the world... I saw people as evil" (Secrets).
In an escalation of this pathological state, if the poet were ever to discover that another man occupies her heart, he would immediately commit suicide! "I run after you... You always reject me/ I will kill myself if I ever find out/ That another man lives in your heart" (Another Man).
If anxieties were to plague our poet, dedicating the most expansive space to them in his "Poems of Jealousy," he would devote two quintets to his beloved, in which she expresses a degree of resentment and suspicion, though not to the same extent as his own.
In the quintet "Scandal," she reproaches him for not answering her phone call, and he excuses himself by claiming his cell phone malfunctioned. Her resentment is unwarranted, for he has always been the ever-responsive "soldier" when she calls out to him: "My phone isn't working / And you're upset with me over a scent / All my life I've been a soldier for your presence / Be my support, my girl, in my suffering."
And in the second quintet, "Cruel," he implores her not to be harsh with him should he ever think of other women! So, if he looks at a woman, he says, he sees nothing but her dress, concealing her body from his sight: "I swear, if she glances a little / In a dress that passes by my eyes / I hide the woman... and reveal only the dress."
E- The love of women in their various manifestations... and the touch of erotic lust
In the poem "Now," written on the occasion of the golden jubilee of "Adolescent" (2018), our poet indicates that some people, who commit adultery in the name of religion, did not like this collection because of its bold themes, belonging to the realm of erotic poetry!
In the face of these "schizophrenics," Al-Baini, in his sixties, declares his embrace of "adolescence," even his fatherhood of it, adding that his feelings remain the same as in his early youth: "And now that I've grown up, my book/ You wear gold in your fifty years/ There are people who didn't love you... a fraud/ Secretly committing adultery in the name of religion/ They said: talk... not to be spoken in the forest/ They said: sex breeds demons/ This was my feeling in the bloom of my youth/ And it's still my feeling in the Gray hair of sixty."
The question remains, after this decisive embrace of "adolescence," as we approach "The Quintet of Love": Is Charbel Al-Baini still inclined towards the erotic, romantic style, in its sexually suggestive form? Or has his poetry undergone a radical transformation regarding women?
This is what we will explore through a selection of his quintets, comparing them with some of his poems—examples—from My two collections, “Adolescence” and “A Love Symphony,” are three collections, separated by time from each other, and they constitute stations/landmarks of his romantic poetic journey.
In a poem from his "Quintets," titled "You Are Here," there is a sensual touch, as the poet drifts into a brief nap in his beloved's warm embrace, and her lips devour his: "If I were given the choice between all the wealth in the world / And a little nap in your warm embrace / The wealth would vanish... You are here / Beside you, I see the sky without colour / Every time your lips devour mine!"
In our poet's definition of love, he doesn't absolve it of its physical nature: embraces, kisses, tickles, and hugs: "Love isn't about fighting and strangling / So you fight me every time I hug you / Love is kisses, tickles, and hugs" (sexual).
In a recounting of one of the passionate nights of lovers, our poet calls upon the bed and mattress as witnesses to that night! "Do you remember what we did that night? / Don't be shy... all humans have done it / On the bed, we recorded our deeds / And the mattress grew tired from our swaying / And my body couldn't bear the weight of yours" (Don't be shy).
And when we turn to "adolescence" to witness the "broken bed," we see a vast difference between a bed tired from the lovers' swaying in "fives" and a bed whose "bones" have been broken from excessive pulling and shaking, to the rhythm of sighs that filled the atmosphere of the erotic "operating" room! All of this in the face of a firm chest, untouched by sagging, and a body that marble envies!: "Your chest... hard and stony/ Your body is sweeter than marble/ I remember a night in October/ We drank more pleasure/ Snow... and we were cold/ We were missing the red embers/ (...)/ We filled the room with sighs/ Poor bed, it broke/ And the more our desire increases/ The game becomes more dangerous!"
To further illustrate the comparison, and from the series "Beds, Beds, and Dark Rooms," here is a scene where the lover reaches orgasm, the highest degree of arousal, the arousal of her sexual desire, and asks her beloved to extinguish it with a gush of his semen! "Take me to a dark room / To her bed so we can lie down / My body is ablaze... my blood is boiling / Hurry, sprinkle me with your water / My cheek is a flame, my neck is burning / My heart is pierced by an arrow of desire / And on the path of my body, no one has passed / But you... Don't turn me away" (Poem: My Body is Ablaze).
In a charmingly sensual scene from "Love Quintets," which begins with some of the foods the poet enjoys, there is a transition to a different and unfamiliar kind of food, or rather drink: the beloved's saliva, which he will only drink if it is hot!: "All cooking, my sweet, I love / Mujaddara, beans, stew / And your saliva, if it's on my table, I'll pour it / Like sweat, I'll gulp it down and drink it / On the condition that it remains hot!" (Cooking).
In the midst of our poet's weariness, yearning for his beloved's bosom to rest upon, he calls to her, and she responds, provided this transgression is permissible: "Meet me today in the square this evening / I have much to desire for your cheeks / I need rest on your breast / She said to me: But I will speak frankly / I don't want this to be a sin" (Meet me).
And in a scene from the "Love Quintet," of considerable weight, the beloved is on the verge of surrendering to her desire, indeed, on the threshold of a completed sexual act. Let us listen to her words as she begins by questioning the meaning of instinct. "By your Lord, tell me: what does instinct mean? / And why is the body sweating and happy? / If you kiss my mouth, my dear / Like a lie, it ignites fires / And the dress falls off on its own!" (Instinct).
In a polite description of lips, a traditional description, comparing them to red roses – and always from the "five-line love poems" – our poet laments that he will not have this beloved, "reserved" for another: "I tried to steal a kiss / from lips more beautiful than a red rose / You refused, you screamed, and I learned my lesson / Your wedding, alas, it didn't turn out to be my wedding / I'm sure I arrived too late" (Kiss).
(Kiss) In one scene from his five-line poems, which doesn't stray far from the established norms between lovers, and which reveals a sensual hunger, our poet kisses his beloved's hands, waiting for her guests so he can devour her (metaphorically!) piece by piece: "And I'll kiss the jasmine on your palms / And wait until you bid farewell to your guests / So I can eat you piece by piece" (Feeling).
In another scene, of the same "type," characterized by a sensual gentleness—if one may call it that—he kisses her between her eyes, refusing to lie with her without her consent!: "From a kiss on your eyes, I'll be dizzy / How would it be if I didn't attack your lips / (...) And without her consent, I won't lie with your blanket" (Foukh).
Between "Adolescence" (1968) and "Love Quintets," whose poems belong to the last three years (2018-2019-2020), there was a journey that consumed more than five decades of our poet's life, indeed a journey in the struggle of women and the world of women, with all its beauties and torments, alongside various other worlds. Thus, it was creativity, as we have reiterated in places in his collections that we have examined... creativity in his classical poetry and in his colloquial poetry, alike!
While the authors of the introductions to his two collections, "Adolescence" and "A Love Symphony," have argued that a dramatic shift occurred in al-Baini's love poetry, and that he declared a sincere repentance, vowing never to return to eroticism, we do not entirely agree. Their assessment might be valid only for his work up to the end of the 1980s, specifically with "A Love Symphony" (1989). This period can be extended by a few years, as we have discerned, through his "Love Quintets," a kind of erotic "awakening"—one we hesitate to call the "ignorance of the sixties"! The texts we have examined still retain some characteristics and features of "Adolescence," even as we acknowledge the waning of much of the fervent passion that fuelled our poet in his early youth. This transformation can be attributed to the maturity our poet has attained after a long period of experience, not to mention his current age, which is quite different from what he expressed in his twenties! Time is the best teacher, the best restraint on human excesses, and the best guide to moderation and away from extremism!
Despite our reservations about the nature of the shift in our poet's love poetry, we agree with the critic Bou Melhem, who believes that Al-Baini's love poems in "A Love Symphony" oscillate between licentiousness and Sufi puritanism. We can cite examples from the "Sufi style" to truly understand this new lyrical approach, which added a distinctive touch to the art of love poetry in our poet's work:
From the poem "Four Scenes," we find an echo of the Quran's philosophy of creation: "And I did not create the jinn and mankind except to worship Me" (Surat Adh-Dhariyat: 56). Our poet and his beloved want to "fabricate" humanity so that they may worship God, thus linking love and creation: "Your love will remain until the colour fades / And the eyes of all humanity will wither / And nothing will remain but you and me in this universe / We will fabricate humanity... to worship God."
And from the poem "Your Love Is More Ancient Than My Days," where the church (a place of worship) and incense are present, suggesting the purity of love: "Hide your face from my eyes / You burned me... you burned me with your light / I try to escape you... but I can't / Escape the scent of your incense / Oh church in a forgotten village / In times of hardship, I return to visit you."
And this hymn, from "A Love Song," which intertwines God and love: "Don't forbid me to love / Don't darken my heart / Love is the most beautiful path / And God is love" (Don't forbid me to love).
From "A Love Song," and in the opposite direction, we pause at one example, where a subtle form of erotic poetry is present: "My castle is your clothes / The meadows have blossomed / And the fire has burned me / And melted on my chest, swirling / You imprisoned me in the cold / Since the hour of your absence / Let my hands sway / Like the raging winds / On the threshing floor of your youth" (Embody Me).
And—the beloved… as the poet desires her… always through his mirror!
Whether our poet's beloved is real or imagined, he was demanding in drawing an image of her, one that oscillates between reality and fantasy! Such are poets, in every time and place! He touched upon the qualities she embodies, inspired by his own vision. Thus, through a few "quintets," he arrived at the following characteristics:
Our poet yearns for a beloved who is ever-present before his eyes, adorning them with her beautiful presence and her laughter that brings joy to his heart—a laughter that inspires optimism, his most precious possession. It sustains laughter until his nights blossom: "Every day I must see you before me / And adorn my eyes with your presence always / The smile on your lips alone is my treasure / Keep laughing so my nights may blossom" (Your laughter).
Our poet, wanting to sing of her eyes, desires that she not wear glasses, which would obscure them from his sight. He justifies this by saying that beauty shouldn't be dimmed by darkness, especially since the colour of charcoal doesn't suit his beloved's beauty: "I objected to you wearing glasses / So I could sing of your eyes / It's a shame for beauty to be hidden by darkness / (...) The colour of charcoal doesn't suit you" (glasses).
How beautiful is the beloved's hair, fluttering in the wind, tracing our poet's verses, touching his body, and kissing his nose on her behalf! "I stand like a pillar, difficult to move / Let the hair kiss my nose!" (Swings).
In one of the scenes of seduction, the beloved drives him to madness, flaunting her brown dress, pearl necklace, and blonde hair: "This girl, by God, will drive me crazy / She struts about in her brown dress / And the pearl necklace and the blonde hair" (Brown Dress).
And as her dress billows in the wind, revealing the intimate beauty beneath, he implores her not to lower it so that it may conceal the most precious treasure, which the poet's eyes behold: "Don't lower the dress so that you may protect / The most beautiful treasure my eyes behold" (Judgment Day).
And just as he longs to see her, from a different vantage point, from his own vantage point, he finds himself captivated by her eyes, mesmerized by them, even in a state of trance—if you will. He sits on the ground, drawing her image on the roadside with chalk, a chalk melded with loyalty: "Many have said I've become madly in love with you / And on the ground I sit drawing your eyelids / With blue chalk melded with loyalty" (Blue Chalk).
He desires her, as we mentioned elsewhere, as that beloved who would sacrifice her life for him, who prays to God to protect him (fasting), who praises Him, for happiness can only be found by his side, and who is immersed in his love, for there is no one like him! (Beloved of the Heart).
It should be noted that there are several characteristics, which we haven't mentioned, woven into the points that preceded them.
G- In the fading youth... and the failed relationship!
Age... if it creeps on, and what do you know of creeping age! It is the deadly obsession that seizes all poets, pulling them towards the most wretched stage of life! They strive to escape its Specter, for it mars the happiness in which they once revelled and threatens the collapse of the relationship that binds them to their beloveds!
Such is the state of our poet, now approaching seventy! He is helpless, unable to repel the young men who constantly flock to his beloved, men of her own generation! How can he remove them from her path—or rather, from his own! —when she winks at them and flirts with them? "I saw you winking at the young men/ and flirting with them... flirting is like a volcano/ and how am I supposed to turn them away from you/ when I'm old... and they're your age?" Thus, he laments his failed relationships with women, "I always fail with women" (failure).
How much his complex about masculinity torments him, and the train of life is moving on. When his beloved falls into a puddle, he resolves to jump in after her, lecturing her on manhood: "I jumped after you... I said I'd go in/ the water... maybe we'll both get out/ and I'll explain to you the meaning of manhood" (puddle).
Then his beloved taunts him, mocking him because his hair "slipped"! Then he dismisses her words, resorting to a rather amusing argument: according to him, if she hadn't "slipped," she wouldn't have given birth (!!): "She said: 'Oh Charbel, your hair has become "slipped" / I told her: I wish you hadn't described it / You take the truth in a jumble / (...) and if you hadn't slipped, you wouldn't have given birth!'" (Slipped).
In an act of self-revelation, in the style of "We got them before they got us," the poet, upon seeing his beloved standing before him, and the fire igniting within him, began to mutter, addressing himself, to be ashamed: "And I just chatted like this to myself: / Shame on you, be ashamed in front of the girl, old man!" (Shame on you, be ashamed).
H- Love... where it defies the "time of Corona"!
Perhaps what distinguishes Al-Baini’s literary output is its contemporary relevance—as we mentioned earlier—for our poet possesses a modernist mindset, keeping pace with the issues of his time and benefiting from its embodied achievements in the various successive revolutions, particularly in the technological field. Among these revolutions is the communication revolution, which has transformed the world into a small global village. Moreover, our poet observes the various dramatic situations our planet is witnessing on the environmental level, with all its devastating repercussions!
From this perspective, our poet engages with the coronavirus pandemic currently sweeping across the globe, leaving hundreds of thousands dead and several million infected with this terrifying epidemic… and the situation continues to deteriorate, as the coronavirus count keeps rising!
Al-Baini does not address the issue from an environmental perspective, nor from a medical one, but rather from the perspective of the romantic sphere within which he “isolates” himself! Thus were ten “quintets” of Corona, which revealed his distress at this plague that stood as a stumbling block in his way to his beloved, and had imprisoned him within the walls of the house! These poems were characterized by humour, for the worst of calamities is that which makes one laugh! No matter how much Corona spreads and how great its danger becomes, it will not be able to keep him away from his beloved, for when he sees the epidemic, she is the cure: “I want to stay away from you. No, I can’t/ You are the cure, O light of my eyes!” (Corona).
As doubts assail him following the lovers' separation, he fears she will forget him and turn away from his love: "I'm afraid that with so much distance you'll forget me / In this age of Corona... and you won't love me anymore" (How the Beloved Is).
If Corona has any lesson to offer humanity, it is its call to worship God! It's as if our poet is suggesting that this pandemic is a "wrath" from God, one that should be heeded and considered: "Why has the whole universe become death / Oh, my soul's soul... and we haven't heard the voice / That said: You must worship God" (I'm Forbidden to Meet You). At the height of his anxieties, he fears that his beloved might be struck by the coronavirus, for he imagines it to be a man who revels in the envy of women! Hence, the poet is determined to put a stop to it: "They said: He's very envious of women / (...) / I'm going crazy... I'm coming to stand in his way" (frightened).
As his beloved weeps, fearing that this accursed "virus" will afflict her, our poet reassures her that this pandemic will pass quickly, and they will return to their days of happiness: "The coronavirus will pass quickly / And I'll see the smile on your face again / (...) And this ill-reputed thing will be gone" (Don't cry).
Perhaps what troubles our poet most about this coronavirus era is that the mask his beloved wears covers all the beauty of her face! It also pains him that hugging and kissing are no longer permitted due to social distancing! "Your mask... I don't like it anymore / (...) I can no longer hug you and smell you" (mask).
And since our poet could no longer bear the coronavirus, and came to believe that love was a cure for it, he defied the "instructions" that prohibited contact, so he slept on his beloved's chest, and felt a hunger for her lips! "In the age of coronavirus, love is not forbidden / Perhaps it cures all illness / I slept on your chest... I became restless / I felt a hunger for your lips" (age of coronavirus).
T- Social Media... Love's Disruptors!
Similar to what we saw in the "coronavirus" issue, our poet approaches social media, especially Facebook and WhatsApp, as disruptions to love, often coming between him and his beloved!
In the five-part poem "Facebook," the poet accuses the website of stealing his beloved. She corresponds with all her friends, across the globe, and pays no attention to him: "You correspond with friends wherever they are / (...) and I'm all you... and you don't even ask about me."
And as for the mobile phone, this cursed device! It steals all of his beloved's time, destroys his life and distorts hers, and erases moments of joy from their lives: "It destroyed my life and distorted yours / We used to gossip together and be happy / And wherever we sat, the place was joyful" (Mobile Phone).
At one glance at Facebook and WhatsApp, as she communicates with him through them, accepting this pattern of remote communication, but reluctantly, he calls on her to complete her "favour" by appearing in person, which would alleviate his suspicions: "Appear in front of me.. alleviate my suspicions/ I am lost without seeing you" (I am lost).
Having thoroughly examined the major themes and key points of Al-Baini’s discourse, both in terms of content and analysis, we find other diverse topics, each addressed in one or two quintets. These range from the theme of coexistence (Eid al-Fitr) and the patriarchy of Eastern society (Tafran), to “Christianity’s” that highlight the religious and faith-based dimension of our poet (Good Friday/Holy Saturday/The Resurrection of Christ), to the Al-Baini family and the poet’s noble lineage (Karamah). While these quintets may seem outside the context of those major themes, they are imbued with the same spirit that characterizes all the quintets! Is not style the man? And is not the man himself Al-Ba’ini Charbel, in everything he writes and expresses?
In expressive discourse, Al-Baini is the guardian of the Lebanese vernacular and its “encyclopedia!”
By expressive discourse, we do not mean stylistic aspects in their exclusive sense, that is, linguistic correctness and aesthetic expression, important as these are. But we go further, finding ourselves confronted with the diverse contexts into which ideas are poured and the frameworks through which meanings manifest. This leads us to the dialectic of meaning/structure, to the interplay that opens doors, allowing each element to penetrate the sphere of its counterpart. Creativity can only exist through the creative fusion between them!
Thus, the matter is more complex than some critics believe, those who view meaning as a spirit and style as a body that conceals these meanings!
In our understanding, both are spirit and body, in a sense, both direct and inverse!
This is how al-Baini's poetic narrative appears to us, whether he is aware of its danger or not! It suffices that we are among those who appreciate and value it highly, as we delve into the heart of the matter! And since the waters belie the "divers of criticism," we have focused on approaching the expressive discourse of the vernacular in our poet's work, which leads us to these points—the landmarks:
A- Al-Baini's Vernacular Narrating Images!
Almost every one of his five-line poem contains an image, or a scene comprising several images. He feels (i.e., writes poetry) through images, supported by an imagination that oscillates between two dimensions: a sensory, material dimension and a metaphorical, abstract dimension! Here are some examples—witness accounts:
—In the "Winter" five-line poem, the pillow whispers to our poet, boasting, "I felt the weight of my beloved heads upon it!" "She felt the weight of the dragon on the pillow / and whispered to me: 'Who is like me today! ‘.. So, for the pillow to speak, even in a whisper, falls under the category of personification, whereby the inanimate is brought to life (personification), so that it has a tongue and lips, like humans.
— Let us reflect on this expression, where the stone speaks, and where the rose of the house is asked to cut its ribs and turn them into stones, with which our poet supports the house he is building for his beloved!: “I will fill your house with flowers / So that all its walls will envy you / O rose that blooms in the house / Cut the ribs and turn them into stones / Perhaps my ribs will strengthen its structure” (Your House).
Through this example, we do not know which is more magnificent, the meanings or the context in which they are expressed? Or do they both elevate each other, crossing to the pinnacle of creativity?!
— “How skilfully God has drawn you / And from every star He gives you light / The moon now sings of your body / And the flowers throw their fragrance upon your body / So that they all love you” (Your Drawing).
Thus, the elements of nature move, after God. The moon sings of her form, and the flowers envelop her in their fragrance. All this so that from the poet's hands emerges a nymph from among the houris of Paradise, whom God promised to the believers!
And what of this magnificent scene, where the poet makes his chest a stage for his beloved, and she dances upon it! Not content with that, he desires to ignite her lips for all eternity! And if the embers burn him, he is content, for her fire is his bliss, and how sweet is death at her hands: "And I will ignite your lips for all eternity / And it doesn't matter if I burn in the embers / I am by your side, dying... I will rejoice" (Theatre).
For the sake of his beloved, for the sake of his love for her, he is ready to perform miracles. He loads the clouds with the world's fragrance to shower upon her. He scatters time and turns back its hands to the past, regaining his youth. He redraws the world map so that his beloved may be near him, for only a sea and a sky separate them: "I send the clouds, I load them with the world's fragrance / And they become youthful / I disrupt the months of the year / And to bring you closer / I redraw this earth" (The Scent of the World). And why the surprise? Is not love the maker of miracles?
And our poet does not fear the coronavirus, but rather sees it as a cause for healing! He sleeps on his beloved's breast, and healing is written for him! He is overcome with a hunger for his beloved's lips, so she warns him that kissing in the time of Corona is frightening... but he doesn't care: "I slept on your chest... I became a creeping ascent / I felt for your lips, I have a hunger / You said: 'The kiss today, my dear'" (The Corona Era) ... Notice: "I became a creeping ascent"—the act of crawling from the chest to the lips, as if he were driving a car and climbing upwards!
These images and scenes, which are but a small fraction of his quintets, and there are many more, highlight how difficult it is to draw lines between the meanings and the images into which these meanings are poured... for when you read, you engage all five of your senses due to the power of embodiment that Al-Baini masters!
B- Al-Baini’s Narrative: Innovative Scenery from Another World
In this realm, despite our poet’s affiliation with Neoclassicism, and even though he opposed, in some of his poetry, the great poets who influenced him—from Nizar Qabbani to Said Akl to Mahmoud Darwish and other innovators—he did not merely regurgitate their meanings. Rather, he resorted to innovative meanings at times, and to traditional meanings, which he “redistributed,” resulting in a new “Baini” style! He drew inspiration from these poets, but he did not follow in their footsteps. Instead, he forged new paths and detours for himself, becoming unique! He sang of Jerusalem, but his Jerusalem is not Said Akl’s. He may hurl curses at Arab rulers, as Qabbani did, but these are “Baini” curses, with their own distinct framework! This characteristic extended to his expressive discourse, resulting in meanings within innovative and unconventional contexts, granting our poet a unique voice, making him an innovator rather than a follower! As evidence of this approach, we will suffice with a few examples from his love poems:
In the poem "Lake," he gives his beloved the choice to be as she desires, provided she remains by his side. He then confides in her the torment he endures, pouring out tears that fill a lake to the brim! And fearing that the tears might leak from this lake, it needs a "dam," while his eyes need no "dam" to prevent the "enormous" tears from escaping them! What a paradox! "I pass through days of madness / I offer the lake my tears / I find the lake needs a dam."
In the five-line poem "Sabine," our poet intends to launch a night raid on the "Rashdabine" girl he is infatuated with—indeed, she is his guiding light—and he urges her to place a guard at her door at night! The question is: how can an attacker inform his intended targets of his intentions, down to the exact hour? And would a thief warn the occupants of a house he targets that he is coming? This is the crux of the matter in "Sabine," and indeed, the delightful humour that Al-Baini excels at, bringing us the most astonishing things!
Thus: "Beware, the moon dwells in Rashdabine / And is infatuated with you, daughter of Shannin / Place a guard at the house at night!" If every poet possesses something of prophecy, and the miracles of the prophets, then Al-Baini brings forth miracles if he could, for the sake of his beloved. He transforms the sea into a sheet of paper on which he draws her image! He even transforms it into a garden, and he moves birds in flocks that come and flocks that depart in a successive movement of unparalleled beauty. He waters its flowers with the tears of his eyes: “Perhaps this will bring about a union between you and me!” Just as Al-Baini touched upon the miraculous with ideas that did not come to fruition, he touched upon it, indeed grasped it, through this scene: the quartet of images: drawing on the waves, the transformation of the sea into a garden, the movement of birds in flocks upon flocks, and the watering of flowers with tears from the eye! So what do you say about this scene, with its multiple images, innovative phrase, deep imagination, and dense expression? “If I could draw you on the waves / I would make the sea turn into a garden / And the birds... flocks descend, flocks depart / And I would water your flowers with my tears / Perhaps things would work out between you and me” (Garden).
So as not to delve too deeply into the matter, lest it become tedious, and adhering to Abu Uthman al-Jahiz's assertion that "the ears, if subjected to too many beautiful sounds, will tire of them," we will suffice with these examples and present the readers with some other quintets for their contemplation, following our approach in examining the novel and innovative meanings they contain: (for example, but not limited to: "Mat'oub" / "Elmaz" / "Shu Ta'abak"). C- Al-Baini's colloquial Arabic... fluid... on the verge of song and melody!
Whoever reads "The Quintet of Love," as well as many of our poet's collections in colloquial Arabic, feels that the words and expressions race ahead, proclaiming themselves! No sooner are they uttered than they "flow" before them, smooth and flowing, like pure, fresh water! They emerge from their hiding places, from their shells, like pearls, overwhelming all the senses with tenderness and sweetness! All of these are elements of the fluidity that His poetry, both classical and colloquial, is renowned for its fluidity, reflecting the very nature of our poet, a soul that resonated in his expressive discourse.
What further reinforces this fluidity in his colloquial poetry is that the majority of his poems, including his five-line stanzas, are suitable for singing and musical composition. This implies an inherent internal music, based on musical rhythm, sometimes facilitated by the adherence of some of them to the classical Arabic meters. How could music not be an active part of his colloquial poetry, when it forms the dividing line between the language of poetry and the language of prose?
We have selected dozens of his "love stanzas," some of which we present to our readers, so they may experience this poetic fluidity that has become a hallmark of his work. We have explored its dimensions in both his classical and colloquial poetry through five approaches, from "Charbel, in My Eyes, a Beacon of the Letter," to his collections: "I Love You," "Madmen," "Poetry Star," and finally, "Love Quintets"... these five approaches have brilliantly illuminated "Charbel Ba'ini Between Classical and Colloquial Arabic," which will be compiled into a book to be published in Sydney in the coming days, thanks to the efforts of our poet.
These "quintets" are meant to be read aloud, not whispered, revealing the distinct dimension within them: (Khayal/ Eidiyah/ Tannoura/ Allah Ma'ak/ Ummak/ Ihsas/ Shu Ta'ibak/ Akher Haki/ Al-Jum'ah Al-'Adheem/ 'Aib Istahi, etc.).
Conclusion: The Prince of Colloquial Arabic is unrivalled!
If, in some of our critical analyses, we have focused on the creative aspect of our poet's colloquial language, it is only because we are convinced that Baini has elevated this language to unprecedented heights, unmatched by any other colloquial poet in the Australian diaspora. And some of His collected poems, in colloquial Arabic, would have been translated into international languages (our example: Ali’s Supplication) were it not for that human characteristic that marks those collections, which escape the confines of places and the limitations of time!
Add to that the fact that his poetry collections, especially those written in colloquial Arabic, have been reprinted multiple times. For example, "Murahiqa" (Adolescent) has been reprinted eight times, the first in 1968 and the last in 2020; "Majaneen" (Madmen) seven times, the first in 1976 and the last in 2020; "Allah wa Nuqtat Zayt" (God and a Drop of Oil) three times, the first in 1988 and the last in 2016, and so on.
And as a witness from the literary world testifies, the expatriate lawyer and writer (in Australia), Milad Ishaq, sent him a letter (dated May 7, 2020), in which he stated: "He delved deeply into the pages of poetry and literature, especially Lebanese colloquial poetry, excelling and creating, thus becoming, without a doubt, one of the most important colloquial poets throughout Australia. His home in Sydney has become a pilgrimage site, frequented by lovers of poetry and literature."
And Al-Baini's colloquial poetry is no longer buried within his collected works, to be read in silence. It was even proclaimed from pulpits, in his own voice and the voices of others, and it extended to the realm of singing and composing! The renowned artist Mirna Nehme recently sang one of his poems, inspired by the "Corona era," accompanied by the Palestinian Folk Arts Ensemble. Among the lyrics of this poem, which has resonated globally, are: "On our sway, on our sway/ We didn't kill anyone... Why did you imprison us? / You ruled this world with a soldier and his rifle/ And the coronavirus made your feet tremble!" It's worth noting that this artist and others have sung numerous poems by Al-Baini, and videos of these performances have circulated widely in Australia and many other Arab and non-Arab countries!
In an age of cheapness, superficiality, and vulgarity, especially in the realm of poetry, both classical and colloquial... In an age of depravity, where titles are bestowed upon the undeserving, from the likes of "Sha'arir" (plural of "Sha'rur," a diminutive of "Shuway'ir"!) ... In an age of awarding accolades the accolades, from every corner of the earth, are bestowed upon those who call themselves, or are called, poets… In an era where certificates of appreciation are distributed by fictitious associations and forums, multiplying like mushrooms, just as sweets are handed out at weddings and celebrations… In this wretched time, Charbel Baini still clings to his pure poetry, holding fast to his vernacular and elevating it to the highest heavens, like a believer grasping the embers of his faith in an age of disbelief and among disbelievers upon disbelievers!
“Then came Al-Mutanabbi, filling the world and captivating people!” … I beg Ibn Rashiq Al-Qayrawani’s pardon, and I proceed with a comparison, seeking neither reward nor gratitude: “Then came Charbel Baini, filling the world of exile and captivating people!” … Did not Nizar Qabbani say in one of his letters to Charbel Baini—and I have included this in one of my “Baini” analyses—that Charbel Baini had bewildered The continent of Australia!? Yes! He captivated it with his magnificent poetry, captivated it with his prolific output, becoming a veritable "book publishing mill," and captivated it with his constant presence, for he had a "tip" at every intellectual and literary celebration in the Australian diaspora, and beyond!
Footnotes:
* - An approach to this collection of poems, "Love Quintets," by the poet Charbel Baini, published in Sydney (Australia), second edition 2020, cover and interior illustrations by the artist Randa Baini.
- Ibn Hazm, "The Ring of the Dove on Intimacy and Lovers," edited by Ihsan Abbas, published by As-Safir newspaper (Lebanon), in the "Book for All" series, No. 9, Dar Al-Mada for Culture and Publishing, 2002, pp. 11, 6, and 17.
2 - See Ibn Hazm, previous reference, pp. 23-30.
3 - See Ibn Hazm, previous reference, p. 53.
4 - See the introduction to "The Ring of the Dove." Al-Hamama, op. cit., p. 9.
5 - See Ibn Hazm, op. cit., p. 65.
6 - See Ibn Hazm, op. cit., p. 67.
7 - Sheikh al-Nafzawi, Al-Rawd al-'Atir fi Nuzhat al-Khatir, edited by Jamal Juma'a, Riad al-Rayyes Books and Publishing, London, second edition, 1993, p. 24.
8 - See Ibn Hazm, op. cit., pp. 136 and 149.
9 - Taken from Charbel Baini's Facebook page, accessed on 5/18/2020.
