One Art, Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

by Ali Bin ABi Talib

دواءك فيك وما تشعر *** وداءك منك وما تبصر

أتزعم أنك جرم صغير *** وفيك انطوى العالم الأكبر؟

وأنت الكتاب المبين الذي *** بأحرفه يظهر المضمر

فلا حاجة لك في خارج *** يخبر عنك بما سطر

صبرى عليك طال

ٍSuddenly remembered this by Rajaa Belmeleih:

صبري عليك طال


وأحتار فيك أمري


جفى ولا دلال

خليت دمعي سال
ساال

على الخد صار يجري

يرضيك يا حال

هم ليلي نار ما ترحم

تشكي على أبكم أصم


والحال


وينك يطول البال


ياشوق جوال في موانىء الأمل يسأل


يحلف في قلبي لك محل



سيدي الوصل كم أعاني عذابي كم

الله يسامح من ظلم

والحال

وينك يا طول البال