Winter comes bringing with it the rains of goodness that erase the pains of the days from the hearts. Tranquility descends upon the rebellious souls, and an atmosphere of calm and stagnation prevails. We search for warm embraces that bring back the beauty of memories and feelings.
- The most beautiful feeling in winter is to hear the sound of raindrops falling on the panels, cold, wind, and winter. A few beautiful memories are enough to give us warmth, and in the morning the rain carries messages of hope and joy, and we look at the rain and say: I wish it washes human hearts too.
- Despite the calmness of winter nights, you find noise inside your heart wherever you go.. Your eyes tell nothing but sadness.. You sit alone, confused by your sorrows.. loaded with your worries and griefs.. in your dark room.. you only hear the sound of rain.
- If only you knew how much your cold warms me, and the embers of your love inflame me, and the drops of your winter quench me, and the breezes of your winds refresh me, and the colors of your rainbow spectrum make me enjoy.
- The weather is cold and your heart warms me, the word I love you in this cold is enough for me.
- Life is still going on and hope is still there, those drops are still pouring down and gently knocking on your window, so you go to look at them closely and stand in front of the window watching the beauty of the rain, so you smile, and you forget your worries even for a simple moment and you will feel nostalgic for everything, for your childhood and for those years that have passed from Your age, you will yearn for hearts you missed and feelings you forgot, you will close your eyes and relive the tape of your dreams with love, you will forget all the black points in your heart when you see the purity of rain, remember all your beautiful qualities that you have already forgotten.
- In winter, the rain falls and washes away the hatred of the chests and the blackness of the hearts. In the winter, the sky thunders, reminding every tyrant of the power of the mighty. In the winter, every cruel person realizes that the cold is very harsh.
- I adore winter; Because rain always makes me feel reassured, there is a God who will not waste us.
- Welcome winter, in which blessings descend, the nights are long for vigil, and the days are short for fasting. Despite the calmness of the winter nights, you find noise inside your heart wherever you go. the rain.
- Raindrops scatter quietly and delicately, as if they are whispering in our ears in a faint voice. Be optimistic, life is still going on, and hope is still there.
- The troubles of life, the harsh times, and the sad nights of sleeplessness, remember everything you did before the feeling of misery entered your heart, because of a love that ended, a dream that faded, or traumas that penetrated your heart and from which it was satiated and quenched, remember that you were wonderful and still are, but you forgot yourself among your troubles and left it as a victim For your sorrows, and for the injustice of others, so do not oppress yourself, by restricting it to grief. Is it not enough for it to overcome time and oppress people? The rain is still pouring down.
- I adore winter but not summer, I adore winter, because when it rains, the pigments are removed from the faces, and everything returns to its original state without deception or fakery.
- How beautiful are the tears amid showers of rain; Where phrases are lost with raindrops, so the situation unites in absolute harmony, between the harshness of the cold and the agony of abandonment, and the desire to embrace dwells between our sides, regardless of whether it is the quilt, the lover, or the words.
- I adore winter, because the rain always makes me feel reassured, because there is a God who will not waste us.
- The time has not yet come for separation, for we still have time to take and give. If my heart is filled with admonition and sorrow, my heart will not be overshadowed by longing and love. I am drowning in love for what is around me like grass drowning under raindrops, so the dust around it disappears and they become soft and bright like sunlight amidst the clouds of the sky.
- Does winter strip us of the flowers of joy, does beautiful feelings go away with the wind, does hurricanes take us to conflicting thoughts, then when spring comes, our fruits are crude and unripe, and the nostalgia of the soul remains yearning for warm breaths, sweeping the night, the heart is tired of freezing, and the wood-burning stove The picture is drawn, the image of a tired heart, and embers complaining of the burning of love, so the warmth of wool has become the best lover.
- The winter of this year informs me that my insides are shivering with cold, and that my heart has been dead since the fall. It withered when the first leaves withered, then fell when the first drop of rain fell, and that every cold night increases it further, in the soles of the stone.
- So winter comes, and its winds move my curtains. I feel, my friend, that I need to cry on your arms, on my notebooks. If winter comes, and the nightingales cut off their nightingales, and I become like all the birds without homes, then bleeding begins in my heart and in my fingertips.
- Winter will come, and the universe will utter its breath filled with dreams, and the sun will gently wipe the forehead of the earth and reduce its ignition.
- Oh, how grievous winter is its nights, its days, and how cruel it is when I empty the fire of my dormant hearth, and my heart is immersed in its grief. I only listen to the noise of the hurricane, between palm trees and willows.
- The most beautiful thing about winter is that complete stillness, as if the world is sleeping in slumber. I contemplate the street from my window. It is empty, as if everyone is asleep. How beautiful is this stillness and calmness.
- The rain is pouring heavily, the streets are confused, the shops are closed, everyone is rushing in search of something to protect them from the rain, and here are the children fleeing to their homes to take refuge from the rain water, the doors are closed and the windows are tightly closed.
- Let me catch the cold, even if it is with trembling fingers, to make me a necklace that will warm my chest, and when it melts from the heat of love, nothing will dry it, for it has melted with the pulse of my vein and the artery of my heart, so cold is no longer a place, and winter has no address, so rain, cold, snow, thunder and lightning are my language and my love And my love.
- I remember your winter love, and I beg for rain, to rain in other countries, and I beg for snow to fall in other cities because I don't know how I will meet winter after you.
- Winter will come, full of meetings and white mornings, winter will come and I will be with my friends, we will drink coffee and talk about things that are not worthy of us, we will laugh until we cry.
- Oh the whiteness of the snow, the purest of the clouds, the eyes of the birds, the neck of the antelope, the letters of love in the middle of the book, the book that does not go beyond my desk, the question that we have not found an answer to, the answer of all his money makes me difficult, the happiness that erases the days of torment, the torment of my eyes You rejoice, O fountain of longing in the eyes of mirages, O mirage of those who embrace it, drink me, O presence that fills the world with absence, O absence that enslaves my thoughts, O my beloved Jack, the messenger of admonition, from a tremor, healed all the people of my servants, your absence cried eyes that did not fear, from the closeness of the people and not the alien.
- Today is cold and the roses are depressed. Winter, snow, and garden remains. As soon as the color of the rose is in the cold, the features of its joy are lost in a minute.
- On your window, raindrops scatter quietly and softly, as if they were whispering. In our ears, in a faint voice, be optimistic.
- In a past winter we were together, before the crowd swallowed us, raindrops fell on the gray road, as if those drops were my tears, and that road was my face. Our steps getting lost between thousands of steps, that was Fayrouz's voice.
