shed tears return,
on the ribs of burning
the beholder has seen, happy day,
Wow!
breathlessly rose above the intruder of
Joy until you get stuck in the Thracian
and tenderer bowels than the affliction,
and bled from her tender bodies,
and she’s gone, And when you made a prisoner,
His core escapes the bonds
with a thumping lightning, And the Lord of longing
sue me to the people of Al-Buraq
Hurt me
My excuses are false and fictitious
And how much the afflicted has neglected me
of resuming broadcasts, and longing
And from the magic that I was involved in
sing a song and a stalk hop
So he did not leave me a favor
Leads me to a lunar period
I say to a friend that I abandoned
my hand, If you are tired or tired of me,
separation from the estrangement of me
And between you, or separation from separation?
And the absence of the visit remained in it
your parents, resting leg bone
We were in the desert, brother, good
To nurture the covenant from us in Iraq
Was your land less fulfilled or passed away?
Inadequate creations?
So don’t bother with me,
You meet from the whim of what you meet
when you want to download you will confess me
short-tailed, tensor
I, when you swear to me,
composure, diphtheria
I see Abd al-Siddiq, if you are sweetened
unjustly, free my mantle, or keep
And you will not make me complain of a standing
Grudgingly, And in my launching hands
And the wedding in my heart is not the sweetest
with the wedding frock of divorce
and how much parchment has been set free
the footsteps of this ditch, antiquity
Parting hastens to break out of him
About salaam in it and embracing
Perhaps the folds differ from us
It comes back to us close and in agreement
Had it not been for the distance, the inferiority would not have been sought,
And if it were not for the clear, there would be no love for convergence
and the loss of affection in the companions,
Like losing trade in the papers
And rightly so, we hoped for a crescent
to the farthest reaches, Except for the right
unless we accept an acceptable covenant
far from prophethood, and hernia
The peoples may cohabit for a while
by falsification, and hypocrisy
And the bucket comes full, illusory dimension
of the curses in it, and the Iraqi
So do not go away from our old nights,
And our sweet-tasting life has passed away