Ghazal verses

The moon lent the morning Hassan Tabassum

Ibn Rawaha al-Hamawi says:

A moon lent the morning good smile

And he lent a branch to him so that you would like it

And his mustache turned green, so it became clear to me

It greens the meadows around the resource

And when is it permissible for his lovers to come

Like a pearl of sapphire under an aquamarine

Oh, the magician of the party, Layla, what has magic

Ibn al-Natrouni says:

O magician of the party Layla has no magic

And it hurt my eyelids after staying up late

I don't know and I photographed your person in

My longing heart, are you sunshine or moon?

God did not portray this beauty in human beings

And the images could not be worshipped

You are the one who blessed my eyes to see him

Because she was miserable after her thought

I die seriously and I have no mercy from you

And how much I warned and did not benefit me

I ask God's forgiveness. No, by God, I was not created

Your eyes are only for humans to perish

And a gazelle appeared to me in a suit

Ibn Al-Saati says:

And a gazelle appeared to me in a suit

collected from each suggested color

Colors shone from his face

He is like the sun in a rainbow

The eyes of the oryx are your magic from the hand

Ibn al-Saati says:

The eyes of the oryx are filled with your magic from a hand

There is no place in my heart for fortitude

Slowly with an orphaned heart

And accompanied by this sore eyelid

Stand up, provide us with you, O mother of Nalak

Not much is the provider's pause

In Al-Zaan Aloy does not live up to a lover

Secretly upholstered, but not upholstered

And white paint poplar landscapes blackened

And their eyelids were not darkened

Perhaps please missed the day

Luck catches up with him, and he realizes tomorrow

I licked the rump with a soft rump

The waist circumference is weak

You see, the palm of passion reaps the fruit of semen

With it from the staggered pan rod

I humiliated the sultan of passion after glory

And it is not for humiliation before it with a date

You tortured me, my love Lubna

Qais bin Dharih says:

You tortured me, love Lubna

So he fell either with death or life

For death is better than life

We regret the distance and diaspora

And the close ones said: Taiz for her

So I said to them, "Then my death has come."

Your face is like the beginning of a poem

Nizar Qabbani says:

Your face is like the beginning of a poem

pull me

pull me

Like a sail

By night to the shores of rhythm

It opens up a horizon for me

And a moment of creativity

Your face is an amazing face

And a watercolor

And one of the most beautiful trips

between myrtle and mint

your face

This open book is beautiful

When I see him in the morning

He carries me coffee in his smile

And apple blush

Your face beckons me

To the last poetry that I know

And the last talk

And the last damask rose, which I love

And the last bathroom

Pant Souad in the eyes is bored

Al-Akhtal says:

Souad is gone, and in the eyes he is bored

From her love and true body insane

The heart of her love gets used to it sick

If I remember it while the body is paralyzed

And if you forget it or say it has been degraded

Nasheed came back from her, he is handcuffed

Raised from people's eyes in rooms

It is not coveted to be greedy and blasphemy

The heart mixes with its pleasure after sleep

As he alerted and raised the metafiles

She quenches her thirst with a sweet treat

In Adam's good, exaggeration adorned him

Ornaments igniting the whiteness of the slaughterhouse and burning it

Statues are also depicted in the monastery

Or like a gooseberry grown by a waterlogged stream

And the glow of the heat is the shadows

Its beams are glued polished branches

As if it is blue-eyed, alcoholic

I broke him while he was in the folds of his sedra

A day set on fire by Gemini is included

And gazelle you see on his cheeks

Ibn Al-Rumi says:

And a deer you see on his cheeks

Two arrows dripped from the blood of hearts

I yearn for those of my cheeks

Its roses are roses of a scenic rose

She poured herself a dye and then raised it

From the blood of those killed without sins

Rather, what came to them from the mother came

Potter they have wanted

The eyes hurt him, so he took revenge on them

Inside the hearts are bloody scars

He was not equal to him in the perfection of meanings

Al-Hassan's twin, from the sons of Jacob

I gave the one I adore a rose

Elia Abu Madi says:

I gave the one I adore a rose

After I deposited my heart

So she made her leaves scatter

With a finger like a wet sheep

Do not ask the lover about his heart

He was lost between laughter and play

I did not pick the rose from its branch

If it were not like a cheek in the fire

Hind did not tear her papers

Had it not been for the suspicion between her and the heart

The spectrum of the beloved pain from his enemies

Al-Bahtori says:

The spectrum of the beloved is pain from his enmity

And far from the location of his land and his sky

hastily alarmed the brigand directed hastily

From the grief of his telegraph to his doses

He guides peace and guides his imagination

After him, wonder and dedication

If he had visited other than Al-Kari, he would have cured you

The madness of love, and from the air with its relief

leave passion or die in your initiation

The orphan's business is to die his beginning

And a brother, I wore bright green bread

With the honor of his ten and the virtue of his brotherhood

How many hopes and wishes I have

Except God's defense of his sins

And on Abu Noah, the clothes of love

You give him pure affection from his enemies

Close the eyelids of magic or Farahmy

Hafez Ibrahim says:

Close the eyelids of magic or have mercy

An orphan who fears eyelids falling off

And do not pray with the stature that

Touch in it, O Munai Al-Munun

I do not know from you the meaning of passion

Oh Julia, people don't know

Oh well when it came to me

Khalil Mutran says:

How beautiful it is when it appears on me

Her servants are in dignity that is not tram

among the stars that looked around

Her dripping drops ruffled

make people's eyes water like dew

From her pure light, the pains are healed

As if al-Zahraa is between her

Malika in a neat procession

And the people are kneeling at her beauty

Prostration of sincere love and decency

The purifiers of faith from suspicion

They are free from all slander

And Ramsha heals the ailing breeze

Ibn Zaydun says:

And a blink that heals the sick breeze

Well-published breath pump

He pointed it at me with a blessed banana

To replace the alcoholic tears with magic

A freshness of her reign spread in her branches

and rose with musk from the left

So he gifted jasmine with his palm

The stars took the blossom from the full moon's rest

he has a sweet and good manners

An adverb such as the scent of perfume or the intoxication of wine

excuses myself from a conversation that pleases him

Like semen and connection in the aftermath of desertion