Poem 3. She Married Me; In spite of the tribe
By Nizar Qabbani, story told and translated by The Scholar (plus a bonus poem in celebration of the month of love)
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تزوجتني
Tazawajatni
She married me
رغم أنف القبيلة
Raghma anf al-qabeelah
In spite of the tribe
وسافرت معاي
Wa safarat ma‘ay
And she traveled with me
رغم أنف القبيلة
Raghma anf al-qabeelah
In spite of the tribe
وأعطتني زينب وعمر
Wa a‘tatni Zaynab wa Omar
And she gave me Zeynab and Omar)
رغم أنف القبيلة
Raghma anf al-qabeelah
In spite of the tribe
وعندما كنت أسألها: لماذا؟
Wa ‘indama kuntu as’aluha: limadha?
And when I used to ask her: Why?
كانت تأخذني كالطفل إلى صدرها
Kanat ta’khudhuni ka al-tifl ila sadriha
She would take me, like a child, against her chest
وتقول: (لأنك أنت قبيلتي)
Wa taqul: (Li’annaka anta qabeelati)
Because you are my tribe
[The Story]
Nizar Qabbani was a Syrian poet; Balqis was an Iraqi diplomat. Such relations were intrinsically prohibited in the eyes of conservative Arab citizens. How absurd it seems now, how absurd it was then, but it was so, and such a minuscule difference played a role in delaying a love affair. While it may have been love at first sight between Nizar and Balqis, it would be years before the couple would unite, as we shall see.
As a poet, Nizar Qabbani was naturally inclined to recite poetry in front of an audience, and he was doing exactly that on a fateful day in Baghdad. Among the spectators attending the poetry festival in Baghdad, Iraq, was Balqis, sitting alongside her father, lost in the crowd. Nizar, who was reciting his poem, was instantly drawn to her natural Arabian beauty. Her dark hair, tan skin, and height captivated him, and he immediately fell head over heels for Balqis, who would come to be his second wife, this stranger between the aisles.
Following the festival, Nizar Qabbani asked around for Balqiss and searched as one in desperate need of nourishment, as if his survival depended on finding her, for he knew she was the love of his life. His search was not in vain. He eventually found her and immediately asked for her father's blessing in marriage. Her father refused. He completely rejected the idea outright.
It has been said that the reason for such rejection was that Nizar Qabbani taghazal (flirted) with Balqis beforehand, a common reason for rejection in many historical Arabic love stories. In a country as conservative as Iraq, this was a big no-no. Love was to be hidden, never openly admired in public as Nizar had just done.
Downcast and heartbroken, Nizar Qabbani returned to Spain, where he worked at the embassy, but Balqis preoccupied his every thought. In turn, Balqis, who had also fallen for the sweet talker (one of the many benefits of being a poet) kept in touch with Nizar behind her father's back. For years, they exchanged letters in secret. It took roughly seven years of hidden communication before Nizar returned to Baghdad for another poetry festival, where Balqis awaited him once more.
This time, however, Nizar recited a poem that completely changed the trajectory of their romance. He recited a poem so tragic, so heart-wrenching, that all of Iraq came to know of his rejected love story:
مرحبًا يا عراق، جئتُ
أغنّيك، وبعضُ من الغناءِ بكاء
أكل الحبُّ من حشاشةِ قلبهِ
والبقايا تقاسمتها النساء
سكن الحزنُ كالعصافيرِ قلبي
فالأسى خمرٌ، وقلبي الإناء
أنا جرحٌ يمشي على قدميه
وخيوله قد هداها الإعياء
كان عندي هنا أميرةُ حبٍّ
ثم ضاعت الأميرة الحسناء
أين وجهٌ في الأعظمية حلوٌ
لو رأته تغارُ منه السماء
Hello, O Iraq, I have come
To sing for you, and some of the songs are weeping.
Love devoured the core of his heart,
And the remains were shared by women.
Sorrow nested in my heart like birds,
For grief is wine,
And my heart is the vessel.
I am a wound walking on its feet,
And my horses have been tamed by exhaustion.
I once had a princess of love here,
Then she was lost, the fair princess.
Where is that sweet face in Al-Adhamiya,
Had the sky seen it, it would have been jealous?
The poem spread like wildfire. The love story of Nizar Qabbani and Balqis reached the ears of every citizen, including the president at the time, who was so deeply moved by it that he took the initiative to aid Nizar in his unrequited love. The president requested that the Minister of Youth, the Undersecretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and a group of poets approach Balqis’s father on Nizar Qabbani’s behalf to ask for her hand in marriage once again. This time, her father agreed. And in 1969, they were married.
The couple flourished. Their relationship was a happy one. They had two children together—a son named Omar and a daughter named Zainab—and were married for 12 years until an unforeseen tragedy changed their lives forever.
In 1981, the Iraqi embassy in Beirut, Lebanon, where Balqis worked, was bombed in a targeted attack that took the lives of more than 60 individuals, among them Balqis, the wife of Nizar Qabbani.
For roughly 15 days, Balqis remained trapped beneath the rubble as rescue teams searched relentlessly through the wreckage. After her passing, Nizar never remarried and left all Arab countries for good,, until his death in 1998, when he requested to be buried in his birthplace, Syria, the homeland that shaped him.
He later wrote his famous elegy titled Balqis, which spanned over 130 verses, mourning the premature death of his beloved wife, the love of his life, Balqis Al-Rawi, who, though from a different tribe, married him and shared 12 years of happiness by his side.
[Scholars Comment]
Did you notice the double poem? And the romanization?
I wanted to do something special to celebrate February, the month of love, which is also my birth month. The Romanization was requested by several loyal readers and eager learners, so how could I say no?
I hope you enjoyed today's poem from the modern era. For the span of February, every weekly poem will follow the theme of love. Though today’s love story ended in tragedy, I don’t consider the love story itself a tragedy.
Nizar Qabbani’s love for Balqis is one of the healthiest I have ever read about. I like to think of them reunited in heaven above, spending all of eternity side by side; always together, Nizar and Balqis
When you wrote 1981 and Lebanon, my heart sank. It seems, my country is a never ending tragedy, even to our greatest.
How tragic a love story that was