The most beautiful poems of Ahmed Shawky

Ahmad Shawqi

Ahmed Shawqi is an Egyptian poet and is considered one of the greatest and most famous Arabic poets of all time. He was nicknamed the Prince of Poets due to his high status among the poets of his time. In this article some of his beautiful poetry.

The most beautiful poems of Ahmed Shawky

Among the beautiful poems written by Ahmed Shawqi are the following

May God bless the people of Paris

May God bless the people of Paris

I see the mind as the best thing they have been given

They have for the thorns and blossoms of what

The earth produces a fair that they have arranged

A paradise that captivates the minds, and a tame

The eye collects from him what they have separated

Whoever saw him said they were forbidden to escape

They stole it with their magic

What you see is that the generosity has become distorted, even

If the bartenders had seen it, they would not have achieved it

It intoxicates the onlookers with generosity, and why

A hand can squeeze it, but they cannot free it

Picture it however you want, even

People wondered how they did not pronounce it?

The pious person finds the hand of God in him

The ungrateful ones say, “They created him.”

With roses there are books, and with rhymes there are titles

With roses there are books, and with rhymes there are titles

I saw on the canvas of my imagination an orphan

The day of Lusitania was spent by her parents

What an honest and trustworthy storyteller you are

If the soul is agitated, it will cry and embarrass it

Nor is there a mother whose shade and offspring he desires

Its pillars were undermined, and its youth was humiliated

A cold that the animal has struggled with

He left his hooves behind in defeat

I wish she had suffered an hour from death

As he began to fold the parents

Like a chick whose father is shot by an archer and spoils it

Then his mother got up to him and he threw it

There is no father who seeks refuge in the shadow of his wings

And a tank under the gate in ambush

Amen, you see the sari but he does not see it

It is the whale, or something similar to it in the whale

In it, if the loyal one forgets, and we cry

I send messages to the shipowners

And four things in which our wishes were forgotten

Traitorous when it sinks, treacherous when it floats

Cursed in its withdrawal and secrets

Our player has abandoned the ball of days

It reaps punishment on those who do not go through its path

If it had reached the ark of Moses, it would have struck

Its customers and its heat are upon it

The purpose of His command is that we hear

His tongue appeals to us

And if you had not set, Noah's ark would have been hidden

When there was a sea that embraced and contained it

Isn't it amazing that you are like me?

Do you think it is impossible to do so little?

And it is a shame on the world that you claim

If he is in the knowledge of souls, he will return them.

Adulthood is the most beautiful biography, Ahmed

Adulthood is the most beautiful biography, Ahmed

Wad Al-Ghawani from your youth is further

You would have had the rest of the anointing

Today, the rest are almost sold out

Marot your hair after Marot youth

He fell asleep, and the happy boyfriend left him

I didn't hear you say gray hair

I wish the bird had said it

What a soft twister and a poet

He made the brother-in-law a rope to hunt

And you gathered their hearts on passion

And you deceived whomever you cut and who you courted

And you mocked the snitch, and you almost killed the excuse

Today, you are looking for someone who can refute and refute

If you find the Ghayed distracted by passion

And if you find poetry, the glory of songs

Stop your observations at your limit

Stop your observations at your limit

The temptation of the fire on your cheek is enough for you

And make a truce for your sheath

Accidents fill your sheath

And preserve good deeds from small

B does not owe her your army

She looked at you for the fatwa

And do not fear the power of your punishment

The highest narratives of Qanna

What was his ascription to your greatness?

The Awadhil achieved their effort

And you heard from them the difference of your effort

They quoted you an article

Most of them were not for your servant

I don't have many arrows

Your eyelids, but an arrow is your distance.

The spectrum began to be beautiful and generous

The spectrum began to be beautiful and generous

O Messenger of contentment, protect yourself from stumbling

Take a way from the eyelid and the heart

He performed tayammum from As-Suwayda at home

If you spend the night in the eyelids, you are worthy

Usually light brings sight

He visited, and the war between my eyelids and my sleep

Darkness has prepared burdens for her

Well, my imagination created you for me

The most beautiful workmanship is that which suffers from lack

The Lord of beauty has no neighbor over the few

B, as if he had no heart as a neighbour

And I see the heart being rewarded whenever it is bad

He is tender and apologetic about sin

A wounded man asks for sympathy

And the wounded man seeks revenge

You miserable people, you slept, and you slept

He took something from my eyeballs, and it happened

The bane of advice is that it is harsh

The harm of giving advice is to give it out loud

My eyelids asked me about the day

May God have mercy on my eyelids during the day

Should we cry? I said there are tears

Say patience, so I said, “Give me patience.”

Oh my nights, I haven't seen you for a long time

After my night, I did not find you short

The one who holds the engagement is great

He doesn't care about their dreams when they are young

We have not had enough of you in the past, so we complain

An alcoholic does not feel drunk

So drain the cup out of pity, or move on

Adulthood came out of the hands of drunkards.

You came to us with feelings and thoughts

You came to us with feelings and thoughts

They divided the chances among lovers

They shook the canna a few times, and it wore out

Every weak heart beats

What an oath among lovers is my oath

If they met each other in love, I would not be satisfied

My trick is in love and what I wish for

The trick of smart people in livelihood

If the lover were rewarded for excessive longing

I would have been rewarded a lot for my longings

And a girl who was more strange to her

-Good except for strange morals

I tasted sweet and bitter from it, and it was

The pleasure of love lies in the difference in taste

She made an appointment, so when we met

She asked me why we should meet

I said, “What are these conventions?” she said

The prostitutes have no covenant

My thinness comforted her and her courage

An intercessor who hastened from the depths

So she showed me the passion and said, “We were afraid.”

Passion is a branch of compassion

Oh Iraq girl, be more discreet than that

-T, and I express your love in Iraq

I have rhymes that are chaste in love except

From you, the joys of horizons flowed

Time does not wish for more of it

If I wish you would untie me

Carry me in love as much as you want

The accident of rejection, or the affliction of separation

Allow the hug if the guide is satisfied

And I forgave Fanny in the embrace.

Tired and motionless

Tired and motionless

But he gets afraid if he sees you

And he turns away from joy then

You are not tired, O branch of Arak

Beauty is enough for you

The paper of virtues did not cover you

And grow between my sides

And the heart gave you drink of its blood

Sweet promises, when did you fulfill them?

Do you see it accomplished?

From every word if he gives permission

For his sake, I kissed your face

He took the sweetness from us

O torment, and for your sake

Unjustly, I say, the reap of passion

Only your eyeballs were rewarded

They became the death of those who saw

You died, and you went to the death of those who saw you.

The heart is sober, except for the veil of my hopes

The heart is sober, except for the veil of my hopes

He attracts me in the dark, Ruth Anani

Your tenderness is my heart, shall I restore your youth?

Does the impossible boy have two hands?

We are back to that good time

Are you anything but blood and tenderness?

If you do not keep a covenant and do not honor your obligation

She did not mention Alpha; I am not crazy

I remember when we gave youth its due

And we drink from the flow of passion with two hearts?

And you are weak, and your beloved is far away

And you are a failure, and your beloved is condemned?

And days when there is no bet with passion

And you are my heart in every bet

I was complaining after your childhood illnesses

How do you think the two cups differ?

I am still young, but...

The boy in Egypt is turning gray before his time

And I do not lie to the Creator, God built my temple

A good deed, a good deed

I am condemned if beauty takes advantage of my crisis

And I help if the beautiful one leads me.

The people of Quddud whose families have reached the limit

The people of Quddud whose families have reached the limit

God is in a rush, her passions have been swept away

Give her safety if it benefits her

And return it with generosity if it is of benefit to you

And look what your eyes did to her

It was no use staring at her condition

Our eyes were exposed, so we objected

On the island there is a swarm of its creatures

They did not turn from a sweeping house except into a sweeping one

Of the wings, it was joined by its wings

She meant for us an asset, tempting us with weapons

Shaken in appearance, legitimately lost

And her eyes were doubled

The sweetest of its pasts, the sweetest of its pasts

We have the ropes to cast and fish with

We did not let the gazelles of the bottom find it

We erected it for you from a fringe and from a border

Until the soul of its Redeemer was humbled

She laughed at all Zahraa in her radiance

Its cores resemble pearls in it

Smell the good deeds and the day will last

It was as if Joshua was tempted to keep up with her

She walked on the bridge, thinking about her confusion

To the onlookers, and clearly in its folding

All his concubines were her co-wives

Wow, all its surroundings are hypocritical

I opposed her and my conscience was one of her mahrams

He visits my moments in their tracks

Its adornments are more spare than its surroundings

And from her friends from what comes close to her

She said: Perhaps the writer of the Nile will embarrass us

So I said, “Does it embarrass the moons who see it?”

Between you and me are poems that I chanted

I didn't know that Al-Rim narrates it

And it is said that his positions became chaste or bad

The echo of bed and manners tells it.