A tragic story lived by the poet Orwa bin Hizam, as his poverty prevented him from achieving his life's dream of marrying his cousin, whom he loved from a young age and loved him as well. What's their story? And how was the fate of the poet?

He loved Orwa his cousin Afra, and his uncle promised him to marry her, as he said to him when he grew up: She is your wife after a while, but his uncle's wife saw him poor and stood in the way of his marriage to her daughter, and his uncle asked him to go and seek him a livelihood, and stipulated 80 camels for a dowry, according to the advice of his wife.

After Orwa went to Yemen to seek a livelihood, a wealthy man came from the Levant and preached to Afra, so her mother insisted on her father until he kissed him and her husband from him, and the man carried her to the Levant.

A year later, Orwa returned with 100 camels, but to the surprise, his uncle told him that Afra was dead, and took him to a pile of stones and said, "This is her grave." Orwa frequented the place for days until a girl from the neighborhood told him the truth, so he panicked, supplied and set off for the Levant.

And descended husband Afra guest without telling him his lineage, and in the morning put Orwa ring in the milk cane and asked the maidservant to pay the bottom to Afra, when she drank she saw the ring at the bottom gasp and knew that the guest visitor is her cousin Orwa, and came from them to meet Fashkia and cried all his concern.

When the husband returned, Orwa knew him himself, so the husband determined to stay, so Orwa insisted on leaving, so the man realized that love damaged him and that there is no cure for him, and promised him to divorce Afra, but Orwa Abu modesty and generosity, and left immediately.


The poet's body remained emaciated and dissolved until it became skin on bone, and his companions limped by it on the way to the fortune teller of the dove and then the fortune teller of Najd, what they knew him a medicine.

The poet Orwa died before he reached his home, and before his death he said his poem, which he was known for, and its verses include:

Khalili from Ali Hilal bin Amer in Sana'A is crooked today and wait for me

When will you reveal the shirt to me, show me the harm from Afra, boys?

So you see a little flesh, a softening greater, and a heart that is always shaking.

On my liver from the love of Afra sore and my eyes who found it enough