Poems love sadness and separation

And if I disobeyed tears in

Al-Abbas bin Al-Ahnaf says:

• And if tears disobeyed me

One of the engagement figures

I did it by remembering

What was the abandonment of the beloved

O you who deserted villages

The heart is oppressed and depressing

He took the passion out of his body

And his heart fulfilled his share

Tears called by passion Vojbh

Al-Abbas bin Al-Ahnaf says:

• Tears called by passion, so answer it

Various camels running on my cheek

The eyelids fail to hold its water

So you show what I hide and you hide what I show

I die if I go too far, and I live if I go too far

Qais bin Al-Mulouh says:

• I die if it goes too far, and I live if it goes too far

And my sorrows send youth and its breeze

For Layla's sake, the eyes are filled with tears

And she harbors many worries for herself

as if the tampon was stuck under it

A hand with nails, so its sleeves bleed

I will not bring my tears, clouds

Ibn Khafajah says:

• Don't I record my tears, clouds

And slander me with your grudges, pigeons

I paid her sixty years

And she called me behind me, is it in front of me?

And I was and from my milk to Benny

There and from my madam nurses

Morning comes to us sadly

He denies us, and darkness makes us known

Al-Basham used to be the place where people passed

So what did Al-Basham do after us?

Oh, the crack of youth, but a meeting

It is afflicted by the desperation of the mothers

And you shadow of youth, and you used to dew

Peace be upon the fulfillment of your release

On the tears of my eyes from your separation, a beholder

Bulbul Al-Gharam Al-Hajri says:

• I see tears in my parting from you

it is thinned if the quarries do not thin it

I ransomed you with a quarter of your patience, after you study

That the house of longing Amer

You represent the intense longing of my gaze

So knock in reverence as if you were present

And I fold my sides in the heat of love

And I show that I am patient and patient with you

I am amazed at an uncle who always worships fire

He was not burned with it while he is an unbeliever

And the most amazing thing is that your side is a warning

He believes in his verses and he is a magician

O my people, my blood has spilled passion

Is the murderer of the eyes the son of a rebel?

And since they told me that a branch is strong

I realized that the heart is from me as a bird

It pleases my eyes when its brook overflows

If those trellises fall down like the night

And that cheek did not turn green at all, but

For the many bitterness he suffered

Oh leaving the lover tearful

The Egyptian poet Ibn Nabata says:

• Oh leaving the lover with tears

Sadness had occurred to him releasing it

And the offspring of my tears behind

The hands of the cores did not break their charter

If the papers are nostalgic, my nostalgia towards you

Regrettably, she tore her collars

And if you become dictated on the branches of what

In my liver I would burn its leaves

I cry for the good manners and manners

The Egyptian poet Ibn Nabata says:

• I cry for the good manners and manners

Rawd also cried towards the waterlogged viewer

Verbal delicacy cries in her hypocrisy

O branch, hear the weeping of the leaves in the leaves

And I will not fulfill you, Abd al-Rahim, though

The eye cried for you after the water with the leech

My tear ovaries are still calling for my blood

Until the shadows of Hassan cried with twilight

And a groove above my cheek to cry knocks

Until I narrated the hadeeth of sadness by means of methods

O inhabitant of the grave, pleased with the abode

Rest in peace, I am always insomniac

And if exposed at night, a spectrum of Cree

So don't tear me apart and make me slay

Wydad corrected my heart and sorrow, so why?

I make you cry with the sea, I don't make you cry with spoon

Son, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been tortured and cried

And I don't forget to make it easy or insomnia

To make tears and Alsdhid what made

It is portable

Son, no forehead under his way

Your beauty is not lacking in my morning or dusk

The night stirs up a fire in you that I deny

If you are true, then my heart is the night of truth

And the morning brings to me what was wrong with it

The whiteness of my hair is my difference, oh my difference

Son, if the bathroom cups are watered, how much?

Malik Hassan, as time wills, watering

My son, death is a cup for nations

Between Mstbh and Mtbtg

And for the crescent on all ages

Then he tries to make her all suffocated

Age and field preceded his bathroom

Extent and everything is underway on divorce

The sword of death did not respond to the sword of Ibn Dhi Yazan

And no escape followed in the slaughter and throat

And I do not protect him with a bond in honor

Nor did the zebras disappear without him in a tunnel

How many mourners like an echo like me over a child

He says burn me if I say burn me

Not like me in grief, I was distressed by it

But I hang my chest in it with leech

I brought to the end a grave in which you live

May I help in my grief and in my anxiety

Although the full moon is on the horizon

Badri is now buried on the roads

As if I didn't sing the night out of rapture

The night of fever is too early for you to embrace

Oh Lord, how much apathy you have spread

Good members are like pearls

And how much did you leave a palm without a humerus

It was covered with a head without a neck

Oh, it has regrets if you throw it

Thahlan, the stone of the heart, could not stand it

And faces like the salvation of righteousness have been manifested

On the bathroom there are pearls of sweat

It was a playground for the uninitiated, so it was not left

Including nights, only a mention of a sniffer

Son, I wish you had not known your loyalty to me

My love, I rejoiced in my tears, complaining of drowning

I wish your star did not shine on my magic

I wish your lightning had not flashed across my horizon

What was the shortest time you were enslaved?

May my life be cut off for stealing

What was he gifted you at a young age to

A virtue gathered in every crossroads

If he loses sight of you on Mercury's eyelids

I was anchored with a burning thought

I went where the remnants of life weaken me

And my sadness is longer than what has passed and remains

The eyes of the clouds have not neglected you

Nor do your eyes throw the tampon and meet

I do not think that you will be satisfied with the state of grace

And my heart is in the fire of worries, naughty

My body has been created by the hands of sorrow, so when

For the earth throws this creative clothes