The sweetest sad poems

Sorrow

Sadness is a psychological pain and distress that is described as a feeling of misery and helplessness. It is also a person’s feeling of dissatisfaction because of a problem they are facing. It is negative feelings when a person feels them. The person becomes calm, less active and emotionally excited. Sadness is sometimes accompanied by crying. The sad person or the cause of this sadness, and in this article we will show you some of the sad poems.

napkins

Mahmoud Darwish, one of the most important Palestinian and Arab poets, was born in 1941 AD in the village of Al-Birwa, Palestine, and died in the United States of America on Saturday, August 9, 2008 AD. Among his most beautiful and sad poems:

Like the tombs of the martyrs, your silence

And the road to extension

And your hands mention two birds

They hover over my heart

So call the lightning strike

to the horizon filled with blackness

And expect bloody kisses

And a day without more

And get used to me as long as you are

My death and the sorrows of distance

Shroud the farewell tissues

A wind blew in the ashes

I waved nothing but blood flowed

In the depths of a valley

He cried for a nostalgic voice

In Sinbad's sail

My response, I asked you to sniff the handkerchief

A flute is calling

My joy is to meet you

He was growing older than me

I only have your eyes do not cry

On a hostile death

Don't borrow my handkerchiefs

Wydad songs

Please put a bandage on her

About my wound

Arabic recipe for the treatment of love

Nizar Qabbani, a contemporary Syrian diplomat and poet, was born in Damascus on March 21, 1923 AD. He graduated in 1945 from the Faculty of Law at the University of Damascus and joined the Syrian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Among his sad poems are:

I pictured your love

A rash on the surface of the skin

I treat it with water or alcohol

And justified by the difference in climate

I attributed it to the reversal of the seasons

And if they asked me, I would say

Self obsessions

And sunstroke

And a small scratch on the face will be gone

I imagined your love a small river

He will revive the pastures and irrigate the fields

But he invaded the righteousness of my life

So he drowned all the villages

And destroy all the plains

And he dragged my bed

And the walls of my house

And left me above the land of amazement

I conceived in the beginning

Your passion passes through the clouds

And you are the safety line

And the righteousness of peace

And I estimated that the issue is between you and me

You will underestimate all issues

And that you will melt like writing on mirrors

And the passage of time

He will cut off all the roots of tenderness

Snow covers all corners

I imagined my enthusiasm for your eyes was excitement

What an emotion

And my words about love were like any words said

Now I realize I was short on imagination

So your love was not a rash that would be cured with violet water and anise

Nor was it a slight scratch treated with herbs or fats

Nor was it a cold

You will leave when the north wind leaves

But it was a sword that slept in my flesh

And an army of occupation

And the first stage on the road to madness

And the first stage on the road to madness

Balqis poem

Nizar Qabbani said in the lamentation of his wife, Balqis, who died in the explosion of the Iraqi embassy in Beirut, in his book Balqis, which was published in 1982:

thank you

thank you

My beloved was killed, and now you can

To drink a cup on the grave of the martyr

And my poem was assassinated

And is there a nation on earth

Except we assassinate the poem

Belqis

She was the most beautiful queen in the history of Babylon

Belqis

It was the tallest palm tree in the land of Iraq

She was walking

Peacocks accompany her

And Ayel follows her

Belqis, my pain

Oh the pain of the poem when the fingertips touch it

Do you see

After your hair, the ears will rise

Green Nineveh!

My blonde gypsy

Oh waves of the Tigris

She is dressed in the spring with her leg

The sweetest anklet

They killed you, Bilqis

any Arab nation

that is

The voices of nightingales kill

Where is the samwal?

And the sleazy

And the first gastropods

Tribes ate tribes

And foxes killed foxes

And spiders killed spiders

An oath with your eyes to them

It houses millions of planets

I will say, O my moon, about the wonders of the Arabs

Is heroism an Arab lie?

Or like us history a liar

Belqis

Don't miss me

The sun is after you

Do not light on the coasts

I will say in the investigation

The thief is now wearing the fighter's dress

I say in the investigation

The talented leader has become like an entrepreneur

And I say

The story of radiation is the silliest joke ever told

We are a tribe among tribes

This is history, Belqis

How does a person differentiate

Between gardens and dumps

Belqis

O martyr and the poem

And the pure disinfectant

Saba is searching for its owner

Individual greetings to the masses

Oh the greatest of queens

O woman who embodies all the glories of the Sumerian ages.

Belqis

My sweetest bird

And my most precious icon

Oh, tears that fell down Magdalene's cheek

Did you see your darkness when I moved you

One day on the banks of Adhamiya

Beirut kills one of us every day

And every day looking for a victim

And death is in our coffee cup

And in our apartment key

And in the flowers of our balcony

And in newspapers

and letters of the alphabet

Here we are, Balqis

Once again we enter the age of ignorance

Here we go into savagery

Underdevelopment, ugliness, and meanness

Once again we enter the ages of barbarism

Where writing is a journey

between the fibula and the fibula

Where the assassination of a butterfly in its field

case became

Do you know my love Balkis

It is the most important thing they wrote in the books of love

It was a great mix

between velvet and marble

The violet was between her eyes

He sleeps and does not sleep

Belqis

Oh perfume in my memory

O grave that travels in the clouds

They killed you in Beirut like any deer

After they killed the words

The flower of sadness

Qasim Haddad was born in Bahrain in 1948 AD. He received his education in Bahrain schools until the second year of high school. He joined the public library from 1968 AD until 1975 AD. He wrote many sad poems, including:

These runaway eyes and the wound that laughs

Illiterate

This loin tired of sadness and cold

The other side and me

She is my mother

This Snowy Foden

Who turned this night into a singing lamp

Oh my mom

You gave me a voice that tastes like millions

that walks to the sun and builds

You were a bird in your chest

The fire threw him a green hand

Behold your fiery bird in prison singing

You are the runaway eyes and the wound that laughs

rich

Not between the light and the earth that walks and confuses me

Change this reddish horizon, time and mom

Oh, my mother, who sewed me a dress with her eyes

Why doesn't the dress go through jail?

Why don't you sew us our other dresses?

Extending the tissues that wipe away my sadness

Nor did the terror that turned me into poetry

on the walls of my prison

The thorny tree does not shift your tired gaze

Birds are singing

Oh, the eyes that run away, the wedding that weeps

I'm from you words like lightning from the night of legends

And you are the rose of life that comes from me

So why does sadness flee to your cheeks, O flower of my sorrow?

and why

A homeland worn before going to sleep is history

After sleeping a date and wake up after

The hit date knows no door to enter

This is my homeland or surprise in a map

Why is the sea leveled with sand?

Homeland wears the title of sultans and kings pants

This is my country, the mother of the revolution, has become a river of blood

This is a homeland that is now not ashamed of colour

And the photo is black and white

Do mention do you mix colors

In my eye do I say

My country is now without a window

Tourists enter through a door on the market

They sell my

And I'm out of sorts creating children and poetry

My unveils at night

As my friend said

And my friend was not ashamed of Aurat

This homeland standing in the throat

Why are you ashamed?

A homeland full of hunger, so will you take a nap?

This is my homeland, the mother of alienation, or the list of the sea

The mother of the jungle or the caravan now estranged

The mother of the mother who weaves a garment for prisons

And that fall into my face in the evening

Now go out with a dream

This is my country, this is my country, this is my mother

I do not know the borders of the motherland

country

You runaway eyes and wound that

Dancing in sadness new songs

You are in the memory of history and a stormy response comes

And in prison a poem