To my daughter Maria
I embrace the depths of your love
With a father’s passion,
I savor the sweetness of your childhood
With warm lips,
I hold back a tear of joy
Deep within my soul,
I voice further wishes
In the sanctuary of my prayers—
Perhaps heaven will smile;
Oh, the passion of young girls!
They grow to give life to life;
Take all the love you desire,
For your love is inexhaustible.
Oh Maria, who tomorrow will pour joy
Into the corners of the home?
Who will gift me the light of day
That I see in your face?
And what little girl will soothe my heart
With so many morning songs?
Fairouz no longer whispers to the spring,
Nor does winter return to the autumn of fathers.
In your mother’s eyes, a tear
Stirs the emotions of a poet.
With what hand shall I wipe away Fatima’s tears?
Yet goodness is written on Murtada’s face,
For courage and generosity ran in his ancestors’ veins.
So my heart is at peace, my little one,
For you are in a home of honor, of prestige,
And of noble lineage.
Alaa Saud Al-Dulaimi
September 2026