I sacrificed the two martyrs to mourn me,
And to the people of Marw, the Shahjans are praiseworthy
And they joined my two wings with the flock, and they were secure,
out of fear of the events of time, johnhy
How many white hands do I thank for
who are they, And among them is a righteous brother of mine
God is my father Ali’s neighbour
forget the friend, And the wrath of Al-Kashah’s chest
The sheikh of trust and religion is mojif
In the doctrine of nations and a successful dream
looped, in the two languages, a document,
and an arrogant vine in Ashah
My soul is a free sacrifice for you,
glorious trigger, in your right hand, striker
I say, And what was said casually,
in remembrance of honor, jokingly jokingly
What do you see in a stir-fry?
Of the offspring of a crooked meteor
Don’t drench the stump that breaks it
And they are the kalaal, and not all of them are sick
a neck like a stump, She turned
oh, and a head like a succulent
stumbles upon something, ripples its light,
The wave of bitterness on the quantitative arrogant
If the thirsty thirst for it, didn’t get bored
A side to the torment of tourist albumin
I gifted him to go white, clear
from him on a white gallant, Clear
So it will be the first reported year,
for the praised one to receive the praised man
Bimr Al Shahjan became a mannadhi – the poet Al-Buhtari
