long sad poems

River of Sorrows poem

Nizar Qabbani says:

Your eyes are like rivers of sorrows

My rivers of music.. carried me

Laura, beyond the times

Two rivers of music are lost

Madam.. Then they lost me

Black tears above them

The melodies of a statement fall

Your eyes, tobacco, and alcohol

And the tenth mug is blind

And I'm in the seat burning

My fire eats my fire

Do I say I love you, my moon?

Oh if only I could

I do not have in the world

Except your eyes and my sorrows

My ships are crying in the harbor

Torn over the bays

And my yellow destiny broke me

It broke my faith in my chest

Do I travel without you tonight?

O shadow of God Bajfani

Oh my green summer, my sun

Oh the most beautiful.. the most beautiful of my colors

Shall I leave you and our story

Sweeter than the return of Nissan?

Sweeter than a gardenia flower

In the darkness of Spanish poetry

Oh my one love.. don't cry

Your tears dig my heart

I do not own in the world

Except your eyes.. and my sorrows

Do I say I love you, my moon?

Oh if I could

I am a missing person

I don't know my place on earth

Lose me, my path.. Lose me

My name.. lost my address

My history! I don't have a history

I forget forgetfulness

I am an anchor that does not anchor

A wound with human features

What do I give you? answer me

worried? atheistic? nauseous

What can I give you but fate

Dancing in the palm of Satan

I love you..so stay away

About me.. about my fire and smoke

I do not trust you in this world

Except your eyes... and my sorrows

My mother's poem

Abdullah Albardouni says:

You left me here in agony

It passed, how long my sadness and depression

You left me alone here

And she rested alone in the dirt

Where there is neither injustice nor oppression nor

You prophesy and prophesy of ruin

Where there is no sword or bombs

Where there is no war nor with bayonets

Where there is no handcuffs, nor a whip, nor

Didn't he overpower and oppressed?

You left me remembering the ranks as well

The sheikh mentions the fantasies of the youth

And she distanced me from my longing around her

The past and me - oh - what's wrong with me

Hasid al-Umar invited her to

As I call her, she became aware of my answer

Where I call, he does not hear me

Change the silence of the grave and the wasteland

Her death was my whole affliction

And my life after that is above my injury

Where is the melancholy shadow from me?

I went away from me without going back

Her days dragged the wounded on me

Hand blight and plateau thorns

And she went on the ways of life, so who

A difficult path to a difficult world

And it ended where the inning ended

So I was relieved under the veil of absence

Oh, my mother, and the thorns of sorrow

Aches are burning in my melted heart

In you I bid farewell to my youth and youth

Behind me, the sweetness of the injury

How can I forget you and remind you of me

The travel of my days is a book within a book

Your remembrance is behind me and above me

My destination is where I come and go

How I remembered your hands and they

In my hand or in my food and drink

It used to bother you about me and if

The cold touched me, so I put on my clothes

And if hunger makes me cry, why not

You have nothing but a false promise

I just shook my head

The winds of Al-Rawabi calmed the dawn

How much did you guide me to

Our field is in the ghouls at the bottom of Al-Rehab

And to the valley to the shadow to

Where the garden takes the breath of the angels

And the banks of the river receive their melody

Melted like kindness in sweet admonition

How much you wished and how much you spoiled me

Under the silence of the night and the fading meteors

How did your eyes cry when they saw it?

My sight turns off and folds into the veil

I remembered my fate and the air

There is an infection between your sides

Here I am, mom, today is a boy

The bird is notorious for the shooting star

Fill in the history of Hanna and resonance

And she sings in the Lord of the mole, Rabbi

Mother, listen to my voice and dance

Behind the grave like poplar heels

Here I am, O mother, I will inherit you

The mood of this poetry is grotesque and sobbing

A poem that expressed tears for my grandfather and my concealment

Ibn Dinar says in his poem:

May express my tears and concealment

And the heart beats in my patience and solace

And I met my tears, so who did I stop it?

The day of separation and farewell is my fire

I complain of passion and my heart enjoys it

And change my business, which showed you my business

Bntm I'm still with Akabidh found

Inspired by my secret and declaration

And the distance in the fire is sufficient for me and its hearth

After about your intentions, my tears fell

No arrow intended to deafen my heart from

Crooked and fig with resonance and obedience

If the spectrum visited me, I entertained the worries with it

And if my sleep covered me, it used to cover me

No wonder I fell asleep

After your separation, I am estranged from you

It is not true to keep my secret, as I dried up

I became between the guts and eyelids

So tears my eyes loose after after you

But my heart of meaning in you has called

Astbt Azbat Alrand after you

My soul, nor that of mine, the desire of Ban

I hope the wind of youth bore you

I am sorry for the publication of Yabrin and Numan

I didn't think that the bad time for us

I really leave my loved ones and Khalan

I did not know that time changes me

After the dispersal of my brothers by two brothers

O Zaanin and my heart towards them ever

Chad from the longing between Adhaan

You are my daughter, so I have no pleasure in living after you

Nor was I happy with my homelands

You bequeathed to me a specter that keeps recurring

For your distance, O Sweden, the heart is Ashjani

I reminded you, longing is from and for Him

The embers of space with the art of the homelands are my homelands

If my time betrayed you, it is not for him

Heresy if he threw a free denial

Or if it was intended to lower it, it has been raised

The hand of virtues among people is my building

I was manifested at a young age from my literature

The most faithful elders of the sons of the world and young men

And this vision appeared thanks to all of them

But the sustenance could not be attained

A poem under the old windows... the old wound

Mahmoud Darwish says:

Standing under the windows

On the street standing

The degrees of deserted poison do not know my steps

Neither do the nets know.

From the hand of the palm tree I catch its clouds

When a fly falls into my throat

And on the ruins of my humanity

The sun crosses and the feet of storms

Standing under the old windows

From my hands my league and garden flowers flee

Ask me: How old was it until you met?

All this color and death, met in a minute?

I pass through a crypt of oblivion

And pepper, and brassy voice

My turn escapes from my hand..

And in my eyes, silence speaks of telling the truth!

When the wind blows my skin

And the sun ceases to cook sleep

Everything is named after him

Then he bought a new key and net

Songs of enthusiasm!

O heart that throws from the sun of the day

Enough of the flowers and the feast!

Teach us to preserve love hate!

And to clothe the dew of roses... dust!

O voice that fluttered in my flesh

Flame birds

Teach us to sing, and love

All the grass that comes out of the field

of ants, and what summer leaves on the ruins of a house

Teach us to perish, and manage

Our wild love, so as not to

Singing with love gets boring!

When the wind blows my skin

I will name everything after him

And the most accurate sadness and the night in my hand

Oh my old windows...!