Part of the yield of al-Sadr, Brigadier General – the poet al-Buhtari

كيرلس صبرى15 سبتمبر 2022
Part of the yield of al-Sadr, Brigadier General – the poet al-Buhtari

be cut from the chest of the brigadier general,
and calm the fugitive
What is the dread of the nights?
with it, nor the skin of the ice,
We denied the share of the two events in us,
If the truth is nullified by ingratitude
We deny that we are struck by
As if we were made for eternity
Woe to accidents, how do you give?
Bad luck folks
how can you, If you really care,
So let the linguist over the rational
And as the tidings of eternity ceased, until
Show us the lion kills monkeys
My condolences to Abu Ali
On the most seductive rags, Abu Saeed
And I have no consolation but a sea of knowledge,
kindled by its abundance, About Bahr Jude
A murderer whose killers did not give him time
Temporary term in Thamud
your rags turn you around, and widow
delayed to threaten, and the menace
The sword was lower than the vein of the heart
umbilical cord
and not the blood of the damned, And if we heal,
Enough with us for the blood of the martyr
And what pleases you from Mahaj al-Mawali,
the day after her visit, the slave-man
If the slain had known, What science?
dead, from behind the soil, mod
He saw his brother’s resolve, you saved us
its juice from annihilating spoilage
He sent horses to Sima,
From Shus to the caller, fuel
So what do you keep wandering about, until
subsides the head of a mighty and stubborn one
If the living has given in his brother the
despicable, it is like the dead
I mentioned my brother Abu Bakr, it overflowed
tears, stagnant
And the old calamity has motives,
irritating from new grief
God’s peace and watering, arguing,
on those tombs and graves
Razia from the elders of Al-Azd threw
upon us all afflicted, haddocks
text her foreheads, if we modestly,
The shyness of people from slapping their cheeks
Why don’t we get more tears from her,
And there is no more tears in it
I say, Abu Ali, you are alive.
dead, under the corridors of Upper Egypt
I asked you out of my lamentations
rhyme like hail of hail
do not turn away, What was the trigger?
to you, from you, by far
sighed loudly, you missed it,
And you want the beneficial speech
And when I did not find the sword an edge,
I owe him, I helped you with the word

 

صحيفة فوري