Birthday Poems

Her birthday poem

Nizar Qabbani says:

A card from her hand trembles, and the hand trembles, saying: How old is the one? If I say.. the number sang in my forehead. One second, if she gives, ages give birth, and for a moment in her life, she lies in it.. I looked, if tomorrow came, a black tulle shawl, and the flower holders rushed.. and the scene was pleasant, roses.. and sweets.. and I am consumed by hesitation about anything useful, if it comes. A ring with a bouquet? No way. I do not imitate. Is there no one to tell me? How… and what should I acquire? For her composer day. Belts of iris? A star residing in my homeland? I dedicate it to God.. What is the least of it?.. Who chooses? For me from the vines of the East, from a burning moon. Truly strange, the scent is enchanted, its Creator did not create.. I carry it.. Tomorrow for her, by God.. I can't say it. If I have the difference in my hand, the pearls and the emeralds. I separated them all as a small gift.. I carry my whole soul. Perhaps if I carry it tomorrow for her, you will be happy. I hope for it.. Oh one.

A poem on her birthday

Abdul Razzaq Abdul Wahid says:

I sacrifice my hours and days for your life

You've grown a year, are you nearly my years?

Or do we still have four in the unseen?

Forty… is a long way, bloody?!

How can I shorten the world so that it becomes mine?

An age like yours, but without numbers!

Yanni.. and your age is my life.. if you give me the choice

This world, I have given up my throne and my seals

And I said this, she prostrated at her feet

All my poems, and my inspiration overflowed

I watered every pore of her charms

With the melting of my heart, I am the thirsty one!

And I became a lord in it… all my veins

His strings… and they became all my melodies!

Yanni.. I will ask the throne of God for forgiveness

If I said: I am sleeping… on his limbs!

Perhaps when I fall asleep under his dome

I feel your face falling asleep above my dreams!

Yanni… for your feast, I will saddle my ribs

Wax, and I humble myself from my head to my feet

Singing… prostrating to God… praying

That you become my papers and pens

And my heartbeat, and my waves, and my sails

And may you remain my lamps and my flags!

A poem on your birthday

Nasser Thabet says:

The morning laughed and wandered on the roads

Clouds of fragrance flew

And I saw the song of spring on

The trees of the paths turn brightly

And the starlings rejoiced when they were taken

Pearls of spray loom on the horizon

Until the blossoms woke up, if she had forgotten

My eyes did not wake up this holiday

Am I the one who forgets him, my moon?

What a degraded piece of twilight?

Today is your birthday, will you help me?

The fairy of pens and paper?

Yesterday I was alone with my song

My tears speak of anxiety

I spent the whole night in a state of grief

I complained to Ashjan about my insomnia

And now the Eid has come fully dressed

Spring color and cotyledon leaf

So I started drinking his poems

Those written on the roads

And the tulip shone like it did

Doesn't your mouth tend to smell fragrant?

The clouds increased with a smile

The birds were lined up in a pattern

On your fragrant feast, Susanti

Boy, in my heart, love is unleashed

O sea of ​​light that keeps mesmerizing me

Take me, I long to drown

To embrace your sun whenever it rises

From the songs of the face and neck

On Eid, your gap, my tormentor

By God, it is more delicious than anything I have ever tasted

In love with you, I have become a spike

If you deprive her of you, she will burn

You have all the hope in life

And the guardian of torment and tears of staring

For you, and poems will fail me

My heart and I serve it on a plate

Thigh his breezes and his tenderness

And take the soul tamper..and go

Birthday poem

Azouzi Ali Aymanan says:

Go around the tents and hang around until you see

The Book of Lost is a book for those who ponder

And read the scope of its return in disguise

She is often late for her party

Consider the ancient bridge

Your fascination is hidden the more you cover up

The hope of meeting is the imagination of your painting that

She must not stop drawing her birds

It is enough that you have plenty of slots here

Don't live foolishly again

It excites the feeling that you are like someone

He will win a prize whenever possible

Wait until we break the promise

What is not followed is more dangerous

Your flashlight is not watering your shower

The beautiful woman has intercourse with her wine and she becomes numb

The archaeological entrance is open to

A distant era in visions falters

We are back and you are a sign that has covered me

Didn't circumstances make him absent and attend?

And so we try to be our life

Noisy delays our sadness and scatters

Fear creates steps and we would like to

The path is tampered with, so it is not affected

Hours of fun inevitably pass

The specter of truth is a murky reality

You hide your discomfort and escape joys

And always make us happy and free

Those lamps that spread on

All places and the darkness is breaking

She is the one who created our dream nights

And the forces of darkness explode during our night

If the crossing paths are new

And the light emits green peace

It is a sea page that does not contain

Here is the whisper of Anjum crystallizing

Among the leaves of sensual shrubs

You don't see anything amazing in the distance

And your crying at your party is fun

Overwhelm and violence, longing and regret

The closeness makes the old hurt disappear

Strictness, naivety and recklessness

Your joy is nothing but excitement

On a birthday, you get excited and remember

To bring back an image from all the pain

It purifies the pain from you thinking

My son's birthday poem

Abdul Rahim Ahmed Al-Saghir says:

You arise for me from the mist of the clouds, singing a fragrance, riding a dream/ether, and wearing the shade of dew and spices! My beloved, my son, build a moon in the space of wishing. I knew you in thought before you rose like a full moon, the light recognized it. Your candles fluttered… so the night trembled, and the earth bends and moderates. The planting forgets its seasons… and it continues to part its branches with painful hopes. We end at the beginning, it dissolves, you begin: a song mixed with remembrances. Spinning dances with him, longing sweeps me away, and the ocean echoes from me the echo of grief. The clouds ascend, carrying my ship. I see you hugging my meaning with you. You carry my world, your world in the bundle of the body!

A poem on her birthday

Hamid bin Amer Al-Hajri says:

On her birthday, I sang my birthday song

Water is the calendar of the lifespan of the thirsty person

And the books, if they do not find a heart to turn them

We were nothing but parchments between generations

And the clouds, had it not been for the rain of water, would not have rejoiced

From us hearts with lightning and thunder

I was nothing before you, so forgive my mistake

I was astonished by my beloved’s feast

Zahra's birth poem

Ali Mahmoud Taha says:

O poets of the Rawdat, where is the statement?

Where are the songs of passion and tenderness?

A flower has been born in your garden

How beautiful she is among the beautiful flowers!

Dreaming of butterflies and loving dew

And the wine of bees and the magic of time

A messenger has brought good tidings to the earth

Winged from the breezes of heaven

Light is a secret in the conscience of darkness

And dawn is a specter that is not clearly visible

I saw her leaning on her branch

In the desolation of the night and the silence of the place

Bright white and red

Brides of daffodils and chrysanthemums

You keep listening, you stay the Lord,

And the grass, and the creek, and the two beaches

And none of you have a phone around

His music pours out statement magic

Are your glasses filled with wine?

Or have they run out of their rich wine?

Get up and see the shadow on its cradle

The moon of sacrifice dances in it

If you can, make asphalt for it

Four Paradise Festival

I could hear her breathing

The voice of the good tidings and the voice of the Qian

O poets of the Rawdah, how many flowers!

Her birth is one of the good deeds of the times

Badr's birth poem

Saleh Muhammad Jarrar says:

Heart palpitated with joy

And my soul became happy

When I saw my grandson

Good, bright and full

So I thanked God, my Lord

He gave a lot

Your blessings are my Lord

The creature was exhausted

The sea runs out and Amma

Extend your abundant goodness

Praise be to God

Thank you for your glory

Every moment is a sea of ​​goodness

Old and new

And to Him we have received

And the roses were lovely

We are truly narrated

May God prostrate to you

It is one of the blessings of my Lord

Welcome to the grandchildren

On a full moon night

Our beginning is softer and sweeter

In the eyes of God, it is superior

The full moon of the night has surpassed that

Everything about it is beautiful

Youssef Al-Hassan is authentic

With God's help, it will happen

A man like no other

His crown is piety and knowledge

His concern is the great work

You are my righteous man

Keeper of my covenant and my memory

Today I said my poetry about you

So pray for me to be well

And keep kindness intact

Your love is the medicine of my chest

And be kind to your mother

And a very tall father

Staying up at night stretching

And the star refused, Avola

May you live in great glory

May you live in great knowledge

Congratulations, Roro

Saleh is a shade

It will protect you from the heat for an eternity

And he will give you a lot

So congratulate my loved ones

Ghada was born in Asila

Poem every year and you are my love

Nizar Qabbani says:

Every year you are my love… I say it to you, when the clock strikes midnight and the past year sinks in the waters of your sorrows, a ship made of paper… I say it to you in my own way… bypassing all the festive rituals that the world has practiced for 1975 years… and breaking all the traditions of false joy that people have been clinging to since… 1975 years.. and rejecting.. all the classic phrases.. that men have been repeating to the ears of women for 1975 years.. Every year you are my love.. I say it to you very simply.. as a child recites his prayers before sleeping and as a bird stands on an ear of wheat.. so the busy flowers increase On your white dress.. a flower.. and the boats waiting in the waters of your eyes increase in number.. I say this to you with warmth and joy, just as a Spanish dancer hits his foot on the ground, and thousands of circles are formed around the circumference of the globe..