The poet who chose silence

In an age when writers compete for instant recognition through traditional and social media, it seems almost impossible to imagine a gifted poet whose work remained completely unknown until after his death. Why would a poet hide his writing? For whom was he composing — his contemporaries, future generations, or simply himself? And if he wrote only for himself, why did he preserve his manuscripts so carefully, as though preparing them for publication? These questions lie at the heart of the remarkable story of Shaikh Mohammed bin Sultan al Nabhani.
My own encounter with his poetry began when his brother, Shaikh Saif bin Sultan al Nabhani, contacted me and told me that the late poet had left behind a collection of unpublished writings. Soon afterwards, I received two bundles of neatly handwritten pages. One contained traditional Arabic poetry, while the other consisted of free verse. From the very first reading, I realised I had discovered an authentic poetic voice.
Shaikh Saif was determined that his brother's work should finally reach readers. His enthusiasm matched my admiration for the poems and together we decided to prepare them for publication. The result was a collection issued in 2026 by Al Roya Publishing House, introducing a poet who had devoted decades to writing without seeking public recognition.
Mohammed bin Sultan bin Suleiman al Nabhani was born in 1954 in the village of Tanuf near Nizwa. During the Al Jabal Al Akhdhar conflict, his family relocated to Samayil, where he received his early education, memorising the Holy Quran and studying Arabic. In the 1960s he moved to Dammam in Saudi Arabia to live with his grandfather and completed his formal education there before returning to Oman in the 1970s. He later worked for the Ministry of Communications and subsequently for the Royal Court.

Beyond his professional life, Al Nabhani possessed an exceptional command of Arabic language and literature. He was also a gifted calligrapher, painter and poet whose wide reading embraced both classical Arabic heritage and world literature. In the final years of his life, he returned to Tanuf, where he passed away in July 2024.
Although I come from the same town, I never had the chance to meet him in person. Instead, I encountered him through his poetry, which reveals a writer of remarkable cultural breadth and intellectual openness. His poems reflect an inquisitive mind that looked beyond narrow boundaries towards universal human experience.
His poetry expresses deep love for Oman, yet his vision extends far beyond national borders. He regarded himself not only as an Omani but as part of the wider Arab and Islamic worlds, while also embracing universal human values. Patriotism, Arab identity, faith and humanity coexist naturally throughout his work.
In one poem celebrating Oman, he writes:
Masters of the sea — its waves proclaim our name;
Eagles crown our peaks with everlasting fame.
Oman, land of glory, legend, pride and light,
A noble past, a future shining bright.
Having spent part of his youth abroad, exile also became one of his recurring themes. Distance from home strengthened rather than weakened his attachment to his homeland:
However sweet the foreign blossoms bloom,
Home's single flower outshines their rich perfume.
O Muscat, love that time cannot undo,
The truest gift the faithful heart can give is you.
For Al Nabhani, nothing could replace one's homeland:
Without my homeland, all the world I see
Could never be a home enough for me.
His love extended to the entire Arab world. He wrote about Makkah, Madinah, Jerusalem, Palestine, Egypt and Iraq, viewing them as parts of one shared homeland:
My greater homeland fills my every prayer;
Its wounds are mine, its burdens mine to bear.
Though nations dwell on maps for all to see,
They make their home within the heart of me.
Religious values also occupy a central place in his poetry. Material success, he argues, is meaningless without moral purpose:
Without God's path, all worldly gain is vain;
You climb the skies, yet fall to earth again.
At the same time, his poetry embraces universal human rights. Respect for human dignity, regardless of nationality, race or religion, appears repeatedly throughout his work.
He was equally concerned about environmental issues long before they became global priorities. Mourning the destruction of forests, he asks:
How many years have forests left to stand,
Before they perish by our ruthless hand?
The oldest woods, once rich in life and grace,
Have vanished, leaving silence in their place.
He also warns against desertification, urging collective responsibility:
Let us restore the lands our hands laid bare,
Replace the dust with forests, green and fair.
If each new year the desert's march we slow,
New seeds of hope across the earth will grow.
Alongside classical verse, Al Nabhani wrote free poetry, through which he expressed his most personal reflections. His poems reveal an acute awareness of mortality and the fleeting nature of human existence:
Since first I came, I always knew one day
I'd leave this world and quietly fade away.
The pages would be closed, the voices still,
As though I'd never walked by anyone's will.
My birth itself announced my final mile;
My journey towards departure took a lifetime.
Many of his free-verse poems are shaped by philosophical questions about existence:
Before your birth, what were you meant to be?
When you depart, what will become of thee?
From where did you arrive? Where do you go?
The soul alone may hold the truth we never know.
Al Nabhani's collection, encompassing both classical and free verse, explores an impressive range of themes and styles. Rich in vivid imagery, emotional depth and philosophical reflection, it reveals the work of a mature poet whose voice remained hidden for decades. Although discovered only after his death, his poetry deserves a place among the significant contributions to contemporary Omani literature, inviting both readers and scholars to appreciate a remarkable talent that chose silence over fame.

Dr Issa bin Said al Hoqani

Dr Issa bin Said al Hoqani is an Assistant Professor of Literary Criticism, A’Sharqiyah University. Translated and adapted by Badr al Dhafari from the original Arabic article published in the print edition of the Oman newspaper on July 13, 2026.