My master has called me Khasfa – the poet Al-Buhtari
I have a lord who has poisoned me with earth,
out of favor, my mother clear
cover what changed his mind,
I want to hide, What is hidden?
caressed me, politely,
He promised him that he had done something circumstantial.
you were the most anxious of them
I have, and of the best of them enough
Forgotten one hundred dinars,
in a number of saturated behind
Ishmael did not believe in it, Nor
Wafaa Ibrahim, he died
If you do not intend to succeed in it,
How can you not make it an alpha?
are you in peace, I forgive you
Half, And you resume me half
or leave the friendship as it is,
And our feet are straight
The one who weighs people is because
be struck by the one who hides