Verses of flirtatious poetry

Oh, fever doves, Eden is back

Oh, the fever doves, come back!

I am affectionate to your voices

So when they came back to my apartment

I almost had secrets for them to reveal

They promised with a rumbling roar as if

They drank incessantly or became insane

My eyes have not seen doves like them

They cried, but their eyes did not shed tears.

And they were all baths with Othello

So they became diverse and had no companions

So they became gurgling except for a dove

She, like the wailing woman, has a ringing

You remember Layla, far from home

Pat's heart flutters and he is sad

If he is not alone to sleep, he will rest his eyes.

Leaves of paper brushed branches

You are crying in pain

They turned into feathers and were still

I wish Layla had some of them, and I wish I were

Fly and Dare have Rkin

Layla is a bamboo stick.

If they poke at her with their palms, she becomes soft

What a night of bitterness that burns in my chest

What a night of bitterness that burns in my chest

And the fire of sorrow throws embers at my heart

The two events of time refused to disperse

And any passion remains on the event of eternity

Taiz, the eternity wound in Safa

And it breaks the two eras in the rugged mountain

And if I don't want the tears of his family

I panicked to a permanent diameter

By God, I will not forget you as long as you are young

And the birds did not mourn in the clear dawn

And what did she say at night, Mast al-Qatta?

And I did not shout in the morning, Ghadia al-Kadr

And there was no star in the sky, and she did not cry

encircled

And the sun did not rise in every shariq

And not a single eye fell on the plain of the river

And the stranger did not defecate and his color turned black

And as long as eternity has passed, your remembrance is in my chest

And no female conceived, and no fox failed

And what a rash of harm in the depths of the sea

And crawled under the backpack Rkabha

The lack of homework in the wilderness country

Do not think, O night, that I have forgotten you

And if you are not of me, wherever you are, I remember

Doves cry paper from losing its roll

And be patient, and I have no patience

So I swear I will not forget you as long as Shariq left

What is wrong with the teacher of poverty

If only I wish my hair would you stay overnight

I talk to you until I see the dawn

The hands of time have carried my mount

on a crippled boat fang and nail

She secretly sent Laila to blame me

She secretly sent Laila to blame me

And you lead me to one side or another in your religion

She says: You have broken what you promised us.

By God, I did not break it, obediently, on a promise.

I said in horror to the messenger who came:

The calamities of her situation will be very apparent to you

When you come to her, extend your greetings and say to her:

Instigate injustice against Laila and Kasluki intentionally

You, Layla, are considered a sin

against me and I do not count your sins except

Have I been away from you for the nights I was sick?

Do you, Laila, put more effort into my illness?

Ignoring what had happened to Layla as if

I will suffer with it from a free woman to a hard stone

Do not think that I have neglected you.

And my soul sees that whoever stays away from you seems

Nor does my everlasting heart entertain its life,

There is no hope, one day, except your affection and affection

Know that I am more youthful,

I am more truthful with the clear covenant than anyone else

Tomorrow, many of us and you will cry

And my home will become more distant from your homes

If you punish me, I will not see eternity as a blessing

For my eyes, I do not find joy or happiness

If you wish, I can make women forbidden except you

If I wish, I will not feed myself with crucibles or cold

If you wish, we will deceive you and then we will not stop.

In Mecca, until you sit, facing Najd

He became baptized with the names of this heart

He became baptized with the names of this heart

If I say healthy, he is accustomed to Eid

It's like, last night, you didn't talk to me.

He who has a desire desires what does not exist

I promise her my reward, but she abandons me.

I have no hope, and the promises have not been fulfilled

As if he was a horned gazelle,

He gave her as a gift something like eyes and a camel.

She stood up and saw us leaving

To heal the ulcer from a heart that has been hunted

As bright as the horn of the sun, rising

And early in the morning, its cores were black

I have been long overdue, if despair was of any use to me,

Or I would spontaneously encounter Jodha

So don't be generous to me, and honor her

Than you see in us an emphasis on caution

I will tell you I love you

I will tell you "I love you"..

When all the old languages ​​of love end

There is nothing left for the lovers to say.. or do..

Then my mission will begin..

In changing the stones of this world..

And in changing its geometry..

Tree after tree...

Planet after planet...

And poem after poem.

I will tell you "I love you"..

The distance between your eyes and my notebooks narrows.

The air you breathe becomes my lungs.

The hand you place on the car seat becomes...

It's my hand...

I'll say it, when I'm able,

of my childhood, my horses, my soldiers,

And my kitesurfing...

And restore the blue time with you on the beaches of Beirut..

When you were trembling like a fish between my fingers...

I will cover you, when you sleep,

With a sheet of summer stars..

3

I will tell you "I love you"..

And the ears of wheat until they are ripe.. need you..

And springs to burst...

And civilization until it is civilized..

Birds learn to fly...

And butterflies until you learn to draw..

And I practice prophecy

need you..

4

I will tell you "I love you"..

When the boundaries fall completely between you and the poem..

And sleep becomes on the paper of the book

It's not as easy as you think...

out of tunes...

Nor to enter into a dialogue with a body that I do not know how to spell.

word by word..

And bit by bit…

I do not suffer from intellectual complex..

But my nature rejects bodies that do not speak intelligently...

And eyes that don't ask questions.

For me, the condition of desire is linked to the condition of poetry

A woman is a poem that I die when I write it.

I will die when I forget her.

5

I will tell you "I love you"..

When I recover from the state of schizophrenia that is tearing me apart...

I will come back as one...

I will say it, when the city and the desert reconcile within me.

All tribes will leave the shores of my blood.

Which the sages of the third world dug over my body.

Which I have tried for thirty years...

You distorted my masculinity..

And issued a sentence of eighty lashes.

on charges of femininity…

So. I will not tell you (I love you).. today..

And maybe I won't say it tomorrow.

It takes nine months for the earth to blossom

And the night suffers a lot.. to give birth to its star..

And humanity has been waiting for thousands of years... to see a prophet...

Why don't you wait for a while...

To wake up, my love.

on charges of femininity…

So. I will not tell you (I love you).. today..

And maybe I won't say it tomorrow.

It takes nine months for the earth to blossom

And the night suffers a lot.. to give birth to its star..

And humanity has been waiting for thousands of years... to see a prophet...

Why don't you wait for a while...

Good morning my love??

Abilah was amazed by the dressed-up boy

Do not strike me, Abeel, and come back

In me is the insight of the meditator

Perhaps my Lord is more salty than you, so know

And he acknowledged the eye of the illiterate in this world

My ropes have reached what I deserve

Because of her friendliness, I have long been lenient

Did the poets leave from Mutardam?

Have the poets departed from Mtardem?

Or did you know the house after delusion?

O house of Abla, in the air, speak

And my uncle Sabah is home to Abla and Islam

So my she-camel stood in it as if it were her

So come to satisfy the need of the one who is blaming

And Abla will be in the air and our people

With sadness, the fasting person is the one who is afflicted

I saluted from the ruins of his era

Stronger and more desolate after Umm al-Haytham

It settled in the land of visitors, and it became

Difficult for your students, daughter of Makhram

I hung it casually and killed its people

Claiming your father's age is not a claim

I have descended, so do not think of anyone else

From me in the status of the honorable lover

How is the shrine and its people squared off

with two goats and our people with slaves

If you decide to part, then it is

I kept your passengers on a dark night