NizarQabbani: 'Barry White' of the Arab World

But teach me a new word
To hang like an earring
On my lover's ear

          Some poetry makes you think. Some poetry makes you yearn or fret or feel. Nizar Qabbani's poetry will make you swoon. I fall over his lines like a chez lounge. Nizar Qabbani was born in Damascus, Syria, on March 21, 1923. During the 75 years of his life, he managed to become the most beloved poet of the Arab world. He was fiercely nationalist, fiercely feminist and passionate for passion itself. 
        Qabbani was ultimately concerned with love, as most poets are-- ahem... as most of us are. Scores of poets have tried to cast love into a few brassy words that toll like bells. There have been great words, splendid words written about love. Yet, what is interesting about Qabbani is that he spent many poems on the great and splendid failure of words when tasked with love. Here are a few examples: 

"I hate to love like other people. 
I hate to write like other people.
I wish my mouth were a church
And my letters were bells."

"[...] But teach me a new word
To hang like an earring 
On my lover's ear."

"I want to make you a unique alphabet. 
In it I want
The rhythm of the rain, 
The dust of the moon, 
The sadness of the grey clouds, 
The pain of the fallen willow leaves
Under the wheels of autumn." 

       Poets, do not despair! Even Qabbani could not write in the face of love. But, what is the use of words--prettily coupled, or large and awkward-- if they fail us? Why write poetry at all? I don't really have an answer, but I think Qabbani was trying to marry both poetry and love in his readers' minds. Love and poetry are beautiful tyrants: transformative and compulsory. Both are meant to adorn us, to "hang like an earring" on our ears.