Qabbani felt in love

Qabbani felt in love
Nizar Qabbani, a Syrian Arab poet born in the city of Damascus in 1923, and the Qabbani family is considered one of the ancient families in the Levant and has forty-one poetry collections. In spinning and the body of women in his poems
And we chose for you an unlimited love poem
love without limits
my lady:
You were the most important woman in my history
Before the year’s departure.
You are now the most important woman
After the birth of this year ..

You are a woman I do not count by the hours and days.

You are a woman..
Made from hair fruit.
And from the dreams gone ..
You are a woman ... she was in my body
Millions of years ago ..

my lady:
The yarn is made of cotton and cloud.
Ya ruby ​​rain!
O rivers from here ..
O marble forests ..
Oh n swim like fish with heart water ..
And she lives in the eyes like a swarm of bath.
Nothing will change in my affection ..
In my sense ..
In my my faith ..
For I will remain on the religion of Islam ..

my lady:
Do not be interested in the rhythm of time, and the names of years.

You are a woman who remains a woman .. at all times.
I will love you..
After entering the twenty-first century ..
And when entering the twenty-fifth century ..
And when entering the twenty-ninth century ..
And I will love you ..
When the sea water dries up ..
And the forests are burning.

my lady:
You are the essence of all poetry ..
And the rose of all freedoms.
It's enough that you spell your name ..
Until he became the king of poetry ..
And Pharaoh the words ..
It suffices if a woman like you adores me.
Until I get into history books ...
Banners are raised for me ..
my lady:
Do not disturb like a bird in the holiday season.
Nothing will change from me.
River of Love will not stop flowing.
The heartbeat will not stop beating.
The barrier of hair will never stop flying.
When love is great ..
And the beloved is a moon.
This love will not be transformed
For a straw that is consumed by fire ...

my lady:
There is nothing that fills my eyes
No lights ...
And no adornments ..
And no Eid bells ..
And no Christmas trees.
The street means nothing to me.
The tavern does not mean anything to me.
I don't mean anything
He writes over holiday cards.

my lady:
I only remember your voice
When the bells of neutrality ring.
I only remember your perfume
While I sleep on the grass paper.
I only remember your face ..
When he snows above my snow clothes ...
And I hear the crackling of woods ..

What makes me happy, madam
Heap as fearful sparrow
Among the groves of cilia ...

What fascinates me, madam
To give me a pen.
I embrace him ..
And I sleep as happy as boys ...

my lady:
What made me happy in my exile
I drip the hair of the hair ...
I drink from the monks' wine
What my powers ..
When I am a friend
For freedom .. and man ...

my lady:
How I wish I loved you in the age of enlightenment ..
And in the age of photography ..
And in the era of pioneers
How I wish I met you one day
In Florence.
Or Cordoba.
Or in the kufah
Or in Aleppo.
Or in a house of lanes of the Levant ...

my lady:
How I wish we traveled
Toward a country ruled by a guitar.
Where love is without walls.
And words without walls.
And dreams without walls.

my lady:
Don't get caught up in the future, madam
My yearning will remain stronger than he was ..
And more violent than it was ..
You are a woman who does not repeat .. in the history of rose.
And in the history of poetry ..
And in the memory of lily and basil ...

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