Poems of farewell and parting

Goodbye

Heaps of dust always accumulate on the ceiling of love and spiders of the end hang down, weaving threads of farewell, in a vast space that confuses us with the farewell talk, those painful words and phrases that multiply as bubbles of fear and the beginning of nostalgia for loved ones, when hope is raised in the bosom of the impossible, and the bells of the impossible ring throughout wishing when the time for farewell has come Hearts refuse to give up.

I seek refuge in you with the Merciful

Jamil bin Muammar is an Arab poet and novelist from the Umayyad era. He was known for his quality, eloquence, and eloquence. The reasons for his fame were “Buthaina bint Hayyan.” He lived in the Athra tribe, which is located in the Valley of the Villages. .

Do not call a carer from Buthaina to graze

We deposited on the nuclei and deposited

They urged the passengers to gather and approach

The beauty and grace of a majesty that has not been lost

I seek refuge in the Most Merciful from a miserable life

And to covet one day to the uncoveted

If the son of the cursed descends his candidacy

You must die after that or be called

bored and not bored and was not weary

For the beauty of Saada, I don't insult Geagea

I only see Buthaina here

We have after the summer and the square

fire letters

Qassim Haddad is a contemporary poet, born in Bahrain in 1948 AD. He participated in the establishment of a family of writers and writers in Bahrain. He assumed the editor-in-chief of “Kalimat” magazine, which was published in 1987 AD. A number of dissertations were written about his poetic experience in Arab and foreign universities, and he wrote many poems, including his poem on parting. .

Because our letters are fire

Because all those who stood and those who walked

And who were killed in the eye of the sun

They felt the pulse of a flood and a hurricane

Because our green and red letters are filled with revolution

So it comes out in the blood of the infiltrated and the source

Dying our path is a revolution

Because our letters are rock

knock on the door

You ask, O spring of the earth, O sun, O flower

And the word of a liar is killed by a rock

Because our letters, oh man, refuse to humiliate those who lost

And who turned around

At the gate of the world

So they entered and walked

My companions in the path of the sun

My beloved neighbors

Because our letters are fire

It will burn in our fingers

And eat from our shoulders

Until the shame ends

Because all those who cried and those who revolted

And those who carried the slogan of love for man

They felt human waste

They were not disappointed and collapsed

We will always love crafts

We will remain tireless fiddle

If their poems died

And if they die

Our letters remain fire

I advise you to be sad, I do not recommend you to flog

Abu Firas al-Hamdani Abu Firas grew up in the confines of his cousin in Aleppo, after the early death of his father, so he grew up a knight and a poet, and in times of peace he used to participate in literature councils, discussing poets and competing with them. There were many confrontations and wars between the Hamdanis and the Romans in the days of Abu Firas, and in one of the battles luck betrayed him One day he fell captive. He was born in Iraq in 932 AD and died in Syria in 968 AD. One of his most wonderful poems is about parting.

I advise you to be sad, I do not advise you to flog

Most of the afflicted with violence and refutation

I order you to suffice with consolation

about good missing oh good missed

It is the burden, if it is stingy with what it possesses

Including the eyelids, so do not make it easy for anyone

I am like your sadness and anxiety

I have resorted to patience, but I did not find

my being away from you did not make me sad

It is consolation near and far

I will join you in the shelter if I knock

As your company in bliss and prosperity

I cry with tears of my longing for him

And rest to patience without duration

I never make myself happy

And I knew what he received from a coma

And prevent sleep from covering my eyes

Knowing that you are subject to inactivity

Oh single, he is crying, he has no one to help him

May God help you with submission and steadfastness

This remaining prisoner has no redemption

May the soul, the family and the child be sacrificed for you

The heart awakened from the memory of a dead man after

Aasha Qais is auspicious bin Qais bin Jandal bin Sharaheel bin Awf, nicknamed Al-Aasha because he was poorly sighted, and he is considered one of the poets of the first class in the pre-Islamic era. He was the first to praise in his poetry for asking for money, and one of his most beautiful poems in parting.

The heart is awakened from the memory of a murdered woman

after it is like a chained prisoner

It has a well-fed foot, its broad fingertips

She was moderate in good manners

and two legs of the flesh passed by

to the very end of her anklet

If she pleads, she will support her

It has the palm in rap of creation preferred

To a goal with a height you see him

From the good is a shadow above a complementary creation

If she gets down, Jafi is off the ground beside her

And Rab Kahama Junbul betrayed her

if a vulgar knight is above it

Yes, the bed of the vulgar knight

A bosom is covered with it, if you prefer

the smashed shard

Rowadfh flexing the robe supported

To like a sluggish sandalwood

Nayaf is like a dairy branch that trembles if it walks

The bearded cat of Al-Bahta in every well

and two breasts of pomegranates, and their good

Like a good deer, but it is not disrupted

And laugh at the bottom of the folds as if he were

chrysanthemum seed

sparkling like ligne, as if

You see my eyeballs, even if they are not kohl

Sjouine Berjaween in Hassan Hajib

And a clear, flowing cheek rejoiced

It has smooth livers with beds

And Nehar Kvathor Al-Sarif Al-Mutthal

Her veil runs over their soles

if it untwisted it would jingle

It has been completed well, there is nothing on top of it

And I have a saying with it

And she knew unseen that I love her

And I myself am the owner of beauty

And I did not complain before the murderers of the boy

And she confused me with every deranged boy

And if I said something, I did it.

I am not in disagreement with what I say

deteriorate until a person loses his mind

And you will kill Halim Dhul-Hijja

If she wears a shidara and then lights it

with her wrist and the sun when he dismounted

And I put a palm in a bracelet that adorned it

Banana like fringe of twisted damask

You saw the generous, His Majesty, Rania

And the modified underdog's heart flew out

So let her and ask them to worry about you with a bridge

Increase in the virtue of the reins and ascend

Which land did I not go to?

And what land did I not answer with a deportation

And on the day of the bath we descended upon it

So yes, the climate of the guest and the shifter.

Then inform Bani 'Ijl by a messenger, and you

People of Dan lineage and Mothel glory

We are our thousand mind about you to its people

And we came with expedited dust

And we pushed back the Persians by force.

We broke the spear of Abdul

Which farmer of eternity hopes for our secrets

If we are in the fangs, we did not prefer

And what affliction of honesty, you have not been afflicted

what was lost was a affliction

The beloved messed up and was repelled from him

Abu al-Fadl al-Abbas ibn al-Abbas ibn al-Hanaf al-Hanafi al-Yamami al-Najdi, an Arab poet born in al-Yamama, Najd al-Abbas ibn al-Ahnaf, an Arab poet from the Abbasid era. When his father died, he moved from Najd to Baghdad and lived moving between Baghdad and Khurasan. He was born in 750 and died in 808. Many winning races and competitions, and his poems in parting.

The beloved messed around and was repelled from him

And he distanced, and I did not want that from him

He becomes angry and angry

And if I aim at him, he deviates

And he speaks sternly about me

And with my joy and with what he wants the best

I warn against him and his separation

The separation for the lover is intense

O he who called upon me and then turned away unjustly

Go back while you continue Mahmoud

I remember you the most, as if you were

With the nakedness of my tongue, your remembrance is knotted

I cry for your wrath when I remember the past

I wish I hadn't missed a response

Don't kill me with dryness too far

And I mean by my command that I am an effort

Your love is still in my heart

And my breathing increases with hesitation

At times it feels soft to hope

It intensifies between my sides and increases

Until my body acquiesces to your passion, but you do not see

Only dry bones and skins

No love distracts my heart for an hour

About him, nor is he left to annihilate

As if people's love for me is still

As if his wings were taut

My heart is with you and its place

I have so where is my lost heart

The heart is gone, so I don't feel its sense

And I think he will come back to you

By God, I do not want anyone but you, my love

What is green in the leafy trees is a oud

God has turned the eyelids of prostitutes

And I'm cold-hearted and friendly

My covenant shall be observed as long as I have witnessed, and if I fail

One day, I have no vows with them