In your eyes the light of the paralyzed chrysanthemum,
I notice the eyes of a fortune-teller, stooge
He is stubborn from his passion, which has made the ferocious more kindled,
And the passion was a burden on the loving one
The phantom of the imagination excites me,
God bless! What kind of irritating imagination?
contemplate the persons of engagements, film nurture
worse than the loss of a pet, and smirk
and what is good, And it is near to a place,
as close as possible, and custard
the oppressed wronged me, they have seen
dark frown, when does it ripen
I want a victory, then my resolve is strengthened
vengeance that afflicts me, and embarrassed
they seized my riot, And stop my sheath,
I was not troubled by the sect of my method
I did not take pleasure in the symptoms of a noble people,
The secrets of the fire were drenched in Alaa and Arfaj
And the killing of the halim may be guarded, if he saw
a blindness of lethality, embarrassed
You digest me if I want to ingest it,
to perceive him, under idleness, passively,
and who returned, and impotence out of my habit,
When will I not rest from the presence of humiliation?
Were it not for the prince, the son of the prince, and his promise,
say, on the people of Iraq, my diaphragm
The brother of resolve did not issue his opinion
In a nutshell, cramped
And the prince had victory, if I give her,
I deceive the legends of gaudy treachery
my accustomed to which I shelter, my promise,
Why am I afraid to turn my life away and tremble?
My chest will icy despair, despair is plentiful
When will you scoop from it the snow?
I hated it, I looked down
to a wretched life
and pierced my words, And when did I say
with a hearing in a compound that does not sting
The enemy thinks that I have died, but
It is the age in the cold of gray hair
Boyhood blew out the robe, and slandered me
When will my brother Anas go away?
So it is reported that the drunkard said that
The place of my complaint is empty and I watch
When the riders come to deliver their leader
a message expelled from God, annoying
They showed us,
On the meeting point of the pilgrim’s demand is crooked
In two distances we do not come close to someone, feng shui
on him, We are not called to sermon, my art
Jafar and Al-Fath passed between Marmmal,
and stained with blood, frayed
I ask for helpers for eternity, aftermath
The two of them were buried in the soil: Awsi and Khazraji.
Those, gentlemen, thanks to whom
I milked the frigid spring’s awakenings
they went away intentionally, I left after them
I address the Emir and the Wali of Manbij