Love Songs

All Mama listened to was love songs

Love Songs
	after the song “In The School of Love”
        by Kadim Al Sahir

All Mama listened to was love songs, 
songs that crooned ache, songs that swore off risk, 
ballads with sultans who had daughters with eyes 
purer than spring water, with lips more delectable 
than pomegranate flowers. She kept looking into 
her empty coffee cup, reading for lines of possible 
fortune. But she knew, that love and romance 
were not in her favor, not when having entered 
the city of sadness, as the song goes, not when 
the world dizzied beneath her feet, not when she 
kept herself shielded with disinterest of any suitor 
that knocked at her door. I must believe, that for 
the heart to heave like this, it must have broken 
at least once, despite her insistence that she never 
loved him. I must believe that something, someone 
shattered her irreparably like a pearl singing of the 
days of wholeness. I must conclude that love was 
known to her, then taken, then pressed into a tear, 
which is the marking of a human, the song says, 
that a human without sadness is not alive, but
a memory.

- Moudi Sbeity

This picture is of Mama feeding one of the cats that visit her at the beach chalet. She takes care of as many as she can. The details in this photo represent her well.

Arabic love songs are full of the love for sadness, grief, and longing. This defines much of our language and culture in many ways, which is no surprise given the wide influence of Islam and Sufism. It is said, for instance, that the Quran is best recited with a tone of sadness, a longing for Allah, who although is always with us, still feels out of reach. Paradoxically, our reverence for sadness becomes the ground for ecstatic joy and gratitude. They embolden and inform one another.

One of the Arabic love songs I love the most which speaks to this is In The School of Love by Kadim Al Sahir, an almost 12 minute ballad written by the Syrian poet Nizar Qabbani. I’m working on a translation of this song / poem. It’s one Mama and I sing together when we are in the same room, among other favorites, having become a ritual I cherish. Mama and I weren’t always close. I came out at 16 and protested my way into young adulthood, challenging many of our cultural norms and beliefs. My life still challenges her often, but she has become adept at meeting my surprises with an open-mindedness that is rare for a woman of her time and cultural upbringing. I feel fortunate that we are now close friends, and can spend a long while in dialogue spanning the emotional and intellectual spectrum of politics, sex, Sufism, poetry, philosophy, prayer, and so on, interspersed with a good dose of spontaneous singing and a shared penchant for longing.

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☁️ In Praise Of: Clouds - Saturday May 16, 10am - 12pm MDT. Register here.
A contemplative poetry gathering tuned towards awe and praise. Clouds have been inspiring poets since the dawn of awareness. They are ethereal to write about and to paint. Undefinable on paper as they are in the sky. Let’s explore the mystery and beauty of clouds and all they have to teach us. This event is donation based, accessible to anyone curious enough to join. Read the poem In Praise of Clouds.

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