Short romantic hair

Romantic poetry

Poetry is one of the literary arts, which many poets excelled in mastering. This art requires real talent and a very high feeling, in order for the poet to express what is going on in his soul, whether sadness, love, praise, or separation. We will mention here some of the verses of love and romance:

I love you so much

Nizar bin Tawfiq al-Qabbani was born and died in 1923-1998 AD. He was a contemporary Syrian diplomat and poet. He was born on March 21, 1923 AD, from an ancient Damascene family. His grandfather, Abu Khalil al-Qabbani, is considered the pioneer of Arab theatre. He published his first collection of poems in 1944 AD, entitled “The Brunette Told Me,” and he was buried. In his hometown of Damascus, Nizar classified this poem as a romantic poem:

I love you so much

And I know that the road to the impossible is long

And I know that you are six women

And I have no alternative

I know the time for nostalgia is over

And the beautiful words died

I'm not women what to say

I love you so much

I love you so much and I know I live in exile

And you are in exile

And between you and me

Wind

cloudy

And lightning

Thunder

And snow and fire

And I know that reaching your eyes is an illusion

I know I can reach you

suicide

I am happy

To tear myself for you, my dear

And if they chose me

To repeat your love for the second time

Whoever spun your shirt from tree leaves

None of you patiently protected you from raindrops

I love you so much

And I know that I travel in the sea of ​​your eyes

Without certainty

And I leave my mind behind and run

I run

I'm running crazy

Any woman holding a heart in her hands

I asked God not to leave me

do not leave me

What would I be if you weren't?

I love you so much

And very, very

And I refuse from the fire of your love to resign

Can someone who is in love resign?

And I don't care

If you come out of love alive

And I don't care

If you come out dead

I want your behavior and the heart refuses

Ahmed Shawqi Ali Ahmed Shawqi Bey Ahmed Shawqi was born in the Hanafi neighborhood in Cairo. He was born on October 16, 1868 AD, to a Circassian father and a Greek-Turkish mother. He is an Egyptian writer and poet who is considered one of the greatest Arabic poets in modern times. He is called “the prince of poets.” Shawqi remained appreciated by the people. Until death surprised him after he had finished composing a long poem in which he saluted the shark project that the youth of Egypt promoted, and he died on October 14, 1932 AD. Among his poems about love and romance are:

I want your comfort and the heart refuses

Your admonition and self-fulfillment are my admonitions

And I leave you and my sleep leaves me

And the darkness makes me sad and distressed

And I remind you to see every good thing

So my eyes and my heart are pouring

And complain about my torment in your fancy

And I reward you for the torture with love

And I know that you have always been dry

So why did I make love a habit

And the Lord is as blaming as the living, complaining

And filling the soul with it is passion and admonition

Would you reward me for the nearness?

I thresholded you with passion, and stop blaming you

Every navigation among people is a sin

If the alarm counts on you as a sin

I took your love from my eyes and my heart

My eyes have supplicated and the heart has answered

And you are one of the virtues in an example

I ransomed you with a heart and a heart

I love you when you praise the good

And I fear that he will become a habitual wanderer

And they said: In the alternative, satisfaction and spirit

I threw away the alternative, I threw it hard

And I reviewed Rashad Asai Aslo

What's wrong with solace?

If the cup does not go away my worries

The bartender's hand has been repented, and damn it

I must abstain from drinking it

And I drink more generously than the virgins of the monastery

And I have a soul that I see, so it flaunts

Like a rose flower, we call it a flower

love Book

Nizar bin Tawfiq Al-Qabbani was born in 1923 AD. He is a contemporary Syrian diplomat and poet. Al-Qabbani inherited from his father his inclination towards poetry, just as he inherited from his grandfather his love for art in its various forms. Nizar was on a school sea trip to Rome in 1939 AD when he wrote his first poetic lines, flirting with waves and fish. In which he swam when he was 16 years old. In 1997, Qabbani was suffering from deteriorating health. Several months later, he died on April 30, 1998, at the age of 75, in London. He requested that he be buried in Damascus. Among his poems about love and romance are:

Love, my love

A beautiful poem written on the moon

Love is written on all the leaves

Love is engraved on

Bird feathers and raindrops

But any woman in my country

If she loves a man

She throws fifty stones

The most beautiful love

Mahmoud Darwish, the Palestinian resistance poet, and one of the most important contemporary Palestinian poets whose name is associated with the poetry of the revolution and the stolen homeland. Mahmoud Darwish, the second son of a family consisting of five sons and three daughters, was born in 1942 AD in the village of Al-Birwa. Darwish is considered one of the most prominent people who contributed to the development of modern Arabic poetry and Introducing symbolism into it, in Darwish’s poetry love for the homeland is mixed with the female lover. He classified this poem as a romantic poem and its type is prose:

Grass grows between the joints of a rock

We found ourselves strangers one day

The spring sky was composed of stars... and stars

I was composing a love paragraph.

For your eyes... I sang it

Your eyes know that I have waited a long time

As a bird waited for summer

I slept like a migrant's sleep

An eye sleeps, an eye will be awake for a long time

She cries for her sister

We are two lovers until the moon sleeps

We know that hugs and kisses

Spinning nights food

And that the morning calls my footsteps to go on

A new day is on the way

We are two friends, so he will see near me, palm by palm

Together we make bread and songs

Why do we question this path to any fate?

He walks us

Where did we get our feet?

It is enough for me and for you that I am walking

together forever

Why do we search for crying songs?

An old poetry collection

And we ask, our love, will it last?

I love you with the love of caravans, an oasis of grass and water

And love of the poor loaf

Grass grows between the joints of a rock

We found westerns one day

They always remain gentle.

God threw dirt in Buthaina's eyes

Jamil bin Muammar is Jamil bin Abdullah bin Muammar Al-Adhari Al-Quda’i, nicknamed Abu Amr. He is a poet and one of the famous lovers of the Arabs. He was eloquent, an advanced collector of poetry and novels, and in his early days he was a narrator of the poetry of Hadba bin Khashram, just as Katheer Azza was Jamil’s narrator later. He was nicknamed Jamil. Buthaina because of his intense love for her, and Jamil Buthaina classified this poem as a romantic poem and its type is a vertical poem from Bahr al-Taweel:

God threw splinter into Buthaina's eyes

And in the hollows of its fangs, with pliers

She shot me with an arrow whose feather kohl did not harm

The phenomena of my skin, it is in the heart my wounds

I wish I had gray hair before what you said

From the announcer, Judge Samam Al-Dharih

So I died and you did not know that I had committed treason.

Indeed, a profit-seeker is not a profit-seeker

Do not carry it and make it a felony

I fanned out of it in a sultry breeze

I confess my sin that I wronged her

The rest of her secret is not revealing

I love you more

In Mahmoud Darwish’s poetry, love for the homeland is mixed with the female lover, and in this poem he describes his love for the homeland as if it were his beloved:

You grow up, you grow up

No matter how dry you are

You will remain, in my eyes and my flesh, an angel

And remain as our love wanted me to see you

Your breeze is amber

And your land is sugar

And I love you...more

Your hands are weak

But I don't sing

Like all bulbuls

The chains

Teach me to fight

I fight, I fight

Because I love you more

Lyric Daggers Rose

My silence is a thunderous childhood

And a lily of blood

My heart

You are the wealth and the sky

And your heart is green

And the islands of passion are in you

So how come I don't love you more?

And you are as our love wanted me to see you

Your breeze is amber

And your land is sugar

And your heart is green

And sing your love child

In your sweet embrace

I grow bigger and bigger

The cup reader

Nizar bin Tawfiq Al-Qabbani says in the poem “The Cup Reader,” which was not just a poem. Nizar Qabbani wrote it and sent it to Halim in 1973 AD and asked him to sing it so that it would be published in 1976 AD. He founded a publishing house for his works in Beirut under the name “Nizar Qabbani Publications,” and Damascus and Beirut had a special place in his poetry. Perhaps the most prominent of them are “The Damascene Poem” and “O Lady of the World, O Beirut.” As for the poem The Cup Reader, its verses say:

She sat with fear in her eyes

You look at my upside down cup

She said

My son, do not be sad

Love on you is written

Hey My son,

He died a martyr

He who died on the religion of the beloved

Your cup is a terrifying world

And your life is travels and wars

You will love a lot and a lot

And you die often and often

And you will adore all the women of the earth

And return as the defeated king

In your life, my son, a woman

Her eyes, Glory be to God

Her mouth is drawn like a cluster

She made her laugh with music and flowers

But your sky is rainy

Your path is blocked

The sweetheart of your heart, my son

Sleeping in a watched palace

And the palace is big, my son

And dogs guard him and soldiers

And the princess of your heart is sleeping

Whoever enters her room is missing

Whoever asks for her hand

Whoever approaches her garden wall is missing

Who tried to undo her braids

Hey My son

Missing Missing

I saw and stared a lot

But I never read

A cup like yours

I never knew, my son

Sorrows similar to yours

You can never walk

In love as sharp as a dagger

And remain alone as shells

And you remain as sad as a willow

You can never go

In the sea of ​​love without castles

And love millions of times

And return as the deposed king

Sahadi and Layla Vic have no limits

Ibn Al-Saati He was born in Damascus (553 AH - Ramadan 640 AH). He is Abu Al-Hasan Ali bin Muhammad bin Rustam bin Harthuz, known as Ibn Al-Saati, nicknamed Bahaa Al-Din, Al-Khorasani, then Al-Dimashqi. He was a famous poet, prominent in the circle of latecomers. He was nicknamed “the eye of the poets,” and he compiled a poem. Suhadi and Laila Feek has no limits to the fact that it is a romantic poem and its type is vertical:

My sorrows and my nights in you are limitless

And a pleasant atmosphere is like the morning, with which I have no covenant

If lovers have a fatal love for you

So what do you want, estrangement and repulsion?

For those who crave Indianness, nobility, and wealth

Enough of your people's admonitions, fringes and coquettes

Reda Bey witnessed a sip soaking the echo

When did the wanderer’s crops irrigate the witness?

And the death of words is safe for the tampon

In the case of passion, intentional driving is not required

He teaches no deviation by stabbing its destiny

And what is not alive is watered with rose blood

If it comes to fruition, the branch is bright and beautiful

And if you look, the sword of my heart has a sheath

I appeal to her sick eyelids in my blood

Only the fingertips and the cheek refuse to shed anything

My heart and its breasts are permitted

It is prevented by Nahd and what India does

It is the sun that casts shade when it is near

She becomes a deserter when distance obscures her

You feel sad and sad about death and semen

It distances itself and becomes closer to misguidance and maturity

She came and met everything and the same

Delegations of darkness from the top of the horizon are black

He dried me, her cheeks, my cheeks, and her buttocks

And my heart, its earrings, my tears, and the necklace

He muted the anklet, the heart, and the darkness

So the gap, the adornment, and the rival grew on it

Peace be upon Najd and those who live in its shadow

And if only the ruler of desires benefits, we will find

If the fire of sorrow is extinguished after a break

When she was young, after her extinction, she had

If I promised myself that I would meet her

Her despair refused to keep her promise

And I refused to cure her breeze's ailments

He has nothing but youth and passion

He recounts the hadiths of Dune and Banah

And below the dune, Al-Bayd, Al-Iss, and Al-Wakhd

Patience is spent like blinking at its gazelles

And my grandfather is like a sickness in my mind