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It is darkness, neither morning nor twilight – Poet Al-Buhturi
It is darkness, there is neither morning nor twilight.
Does the night set out from my end and I set out?
Ibn Rouh, with a bad pronunciation, slandered me
wrath flashes in his eyes and anger
appeals to the guest and the darkness is gloomy…
I said to the blamers in the well, the horizon – the poet Al-Buhturi
I said to the sinner in the pit, look up.
Don't underestimate the taste of something you haven't tasted
The soul is astonished by the perjury,
The pleasure of the soul in perjury of insomnia
the elite of eternity, if eternity is clear,…
As for the imagination, it has not been knocked down – the poet Al-Buhturi
but the imagination, he did not knock,
only after seeing, and longing
have visited from afar, cool from a tampon
bruise and dwelled in a disturbing fuad
And perhaps the anguish was a reason for us,
after parting, See you soon, let's meet…
Here is the graying of the womb and I wake up – the poet Al-Buhtari
Here is the gray hairs, so I wake up,
and leave him, if he was unsuccessful
He ceased the suffering of the meaning,
And avoided the longing of the longing
excuse us, in her love, Umm Amr,
Have you ever heard of the adored lover?
She saw a…
Is there a tearing eye in every house of yours – Poet Al-Buhturi
Is there a glimmering eye in every house of yours,
a heart, in the course of remembrance, beat
Yes, you wept for the people for an hour,
And without him, people of Layla Mafraq
on a dent in it, for diabetes mellitus,
The advantages of the…
God is your neighbor in your departure – the poet Al-Buhtari
God is your neighbor in your departure,
meet Sham, or your Iraq
don't make me miserable
see the day I walked, I did not meet you
I was afraid of standing up
the deserts of the west of your place,
And I knew that we cried
according to my…
The people of the neighborhood are about to disperse – Al-Buhtari poet
that the people of the neighborhood were about to scatter,
in my blood, or become love, or met
But in that water, we have a soul
praise them, softly, on the river
Thou hast made a regret, when you didn't find
Al Maha eyes, the day of…
You got what you got, you hateful mother – the poet Al-Buhtari
You got what you got oh hateful mother
She gave you the rank of minister
If you enumerate the deeds of a people,
I was the creation of the clitoris