Her desires are that quarrels are her way – the poet Al-Buhtari

whims that the rust is on its way
residing in the humps
And if the slanderers make an effort to break her rope
and innovated in excessive reproach
And fond of desertion, its sympathy is fried,
and its convicts are excluded, and its arrival is hidden
shed tears
And if it wasn’t for passion, nothing would be able to append her
And the presence is nothing but fresh tears
If longing saw her, her carelessness overflowed
I was wrong, and I gave the young man its due
The day after her loads, she boarded for parting
And is it nothing but a lingering affliction?
melts the womb and the heart, and finds its
Were it not for His Excellency Ahmed bin Muhammad,
the abode of praise became a beast of its longevity
so he did not despair from him
To others something other than her inclines her
He turns the children of hopes white on their faces
His sons are so many gifts
He does not mind those who praise him
Is the nights fertile or transformed?
He rebuked him with his steadfastness and Muhammad
the wretchedness of the kings faints of its solutions
He has an eternity that does not fill his chest
narrows the width and length of the country
If the events notice the extent of his anger
diminished by luck
I have been given more than that
her wishes lived up to him and her benefactors
He denied injustice with manifest justice, and it became
only its covenants remain
And he enriched him after devoid of misery.
And glorify him after her humiliated fear
and hastened voluntarily to remove her father’s abscess,
And he came back calm after the ignorance of her ignorance
And still the auspicious policy advice
It has the smell of a flower that diminishes its feathers
He obtains with kindness what he desires or displeases him.
besides the whites of India, its remnants are frightened
He has an idea when things are shown to him.
Punish her in the chest when he brings her
follow from him every day a virtue
misses calf rebound
If he hated it with righteousness from him, he brought it back
On the way, Mahmoud Al-Saya, her beauty
He has a spring in glory whose branches are long
And blessed her with wealth, and her roots were at peace
And if the pillars were weighed, he would be pleased and wither
and was sanctified by it in a dream, its weight was lightened
He has dominions every day and night.
do not succumb to the enemy
If the hopes are deviated from their intent,
To her is the call of grace, and he is her guide
And when he desired in glory beforehand, you came forward.
He has in his range and hollows
Scion of the Exalted and the Pottery, but
He strays and flaunts his descendants
May your father al-Abbas be sacrificed for every accident
From time immemorial are gifts lasting
How much money do you have in a day of fall?
long, from the horrors in it, their wails
And from prayer on a day of misery over the enemy
Fate of Eternity is terrified when it reaches it
To thee did you rhyme, as if it were
a night star that has lost its fading
Beauties you refuse to owe to a poet
except me if he never said it
The nights and years pass away, and he is not seen
On the covenant for all eternity something will remove it
The kings are stirred up by their hearing,
So its narrators are praised, and their narrators are loved.