Titled (Wounds of My People) #With my pen. Musad Ali Al-Bukhiti from Yemen Al-Bukhiti said, “Everything is healed with the permission of our dear Lord Al-Bari, and the wounds of all my people are healed and they live on. The descendants of kings are free, and the tragedies and sadness are in my grave in all parts and countries. We change the gloomy, dusty atmosphere after the storms with heavy rains, and every oppressor in Yemen who is arrogant will burn on the day my fire is lit, and I am a Yemeni donkey.” A free knight, known for my faith and my resolve. Do not be independent of my strength when I am patient with the fool, the seducer, and my manager. I am the ruler of wisdom, and my thoughts are subject to the command of my secrets. I am patient while I am approaching the goal by a hand. I measure the situation before my decision, and I determine my goals accurately. I cross and trample the battlefield like I can, and I am mighty in strength. My sword is drawn, and all are with the Yemeni sword. I wage war. Karar has fallen and turned, and my enemy has entered the core of my hurricane. All the past ages have reported great news about Al-Yamani. Oh, how many kingdoms, how many countries whose kings I used to force to obey me. I forced the Persians and the Ethiopians, the Berbers, the Romans, the Turks, and the Tatars. And I was the first supporter of the warning Prophet, the one whom God bestowed guidance on and chose. I believed what he did, and his people disavowed it, and I protected him. Among them in my home, I believed in him sincerely, and he was rejoicing, and he said, “You are my strength and my supporters,” and I raised my sword toward the sky, and I grow up and fight the people of evil. You are the infidels. May my prayers be pure and pure upon the pure Prophet. May his blessings be upon the best of mankind, my reader. #Greetings___to all
O soul of the heart, written by Safaa Al-Sayyid, O soul of the heart and the weariness of the years, I still know that you are bleeding. They think that you will forget, but the heart is still beating. O soul of the heart and hope of the years, I still know that your right is certainty. We will not forget you, no matter how long the years go. Your right is a legitimate right, even after a while, and it will come even if After a while, God's promise is true, that injustice will not continue and will not be underestimated, no matter how many years go by. God is great, O Gaza, O soul of the heart, soon joy and victory are coming.
يا روح القلب
بقلم صفاء السيد
يا روح القلب وتعب السنين ما زلت اعرف انك تنزفين يعتقدون انك ستنسين ولكن ما زال القلب ينبض يا روح القلب وامل السنين ما زلت اعلم ان حقك هو اليقين لن ننساك مهما طالت السنين حقك هو حق مشروع ولو بعد حين وسياتي ولو بعد حين وعد الله حق ان الظلم لا يستمر ولا يستهان به مهما طالت السنين فالله اكبر يا غزه يا روح القلب قريبا الفرح والنصرقادمين
The moon has departed from me ************** The moon has departed from me and the darkness has spread and it burned, oh my candle. I am to blame. I sang too much about the stars. Am I not that lovelorn lover or did I count that orphaned infant? I heard nothing in this night except the sound of an owl. Where are the songs? The blackbird has fallen asleep. Hearts have died and there is no way forward. The letters of love have been martyred in the sea. Covenants are no longer anything but contracts and bridles. We are nostalgic for the times of grandmother and mother. Even if life is difficult, there is harmony. We adore, love, and part on the same day. This is the state of our time. Toxins of hypocrisy and lies flow through the minds. A quarrelsome grape, laugh at the time when a woman drove her husband with a bridle, and he who repented, thanked his Lord, and was upright won. ...Poet A. Muhammad Bliq/ Hamidou Morocco 2024@
Wounded Gaza and Gaza. so. She called on the grandparents to protect childhood from such hatred. What did Gaza gain from the masters? Look. Sore hearts. I have never hugged any of my grandchildren. It is shameful for me to say I am Arab because of the diaspora. Incoming. And every one of them who abandoned this Palestine has cried from the intensity and tears of the calamities. Like the tears of someone in love or someone. He became like thieves. Hearts are clean. Everyone knows the pain of the longing poet Faleh Al-Saadi
And the year has passed.............and the year has passed. Between a sigh, between a tear and a laugh, between a word and a silence, between a bow and a prostration, between a sin and repentance, between a meeting. And parting is attached to all the roads, a path from its promise, and the window of life is ajar, and he opened the hookah on the morning, and the sun of the unseen whispers, and life outside is your lot, where do you not know, and where are you going that you do not understand? Neither the day we came as we responded nor did we come on the day we returned. We walked in it on our heels and slung it on our shoulders and our shawl with our palms, and we count it and occupy our thoughts with it, and we go on. It is as it is and always. For whom do we bid farewell to a year with people who have passed away and welcome people who are coming on the paws of life? We are beginning to wonder at its affairs a lot, and despite its pain, we thank God and are alive, and we will spread our stones for tomorrow and a new year in which we will find satisfaction. To the praiseworthy, Sherine Abu Amira. May you always be well and happy.
The people of Palestine......... Oh slogan of shame, you must resign. You are no longer a title and a guide to poetry. You no longer have free pens, nor a mind to water from Salsabila. You have drowned in the waist and eyes of the brown. The dignity of a penny, in the warehouse you have removed, and with the penny I have bought red pens, and the wine reflector is cooing, and in the dance bars you have made a lifetime. And I spoke on my chest, and on my chest, and on my wick, and on the cheeks of roses. I poured out wine and became intoxicated with the scent of perfume, and they beautified, and I left peoples, and I cursed with embers on the roads, gathering the dead and the children of death, overwhelming it. There was no longer a mother until they mourned and forgot a cause purer than pearls. The people of Palestine, Al-Aqsa, and Hebron, and the displacement of its people from air to land, and blood flowing like a river on the land. Lebanon is one of the incubators of the Arabs, and Syria is conspiring with its fellow literary writers to make money, evil, and humiliation of the hero’s soul. There is no leader of a word of truth. Fifty-three countries gathered until our missile in the Galilee heard our neighing............. ............. With my pen... Yusha Ali Ismail, a scholar and poet.
((Crazy people and our lives)) ******** The crazy people we have are famous people, and here is the testament to Abu Guerdane, who was willing and has a good dream. He is in the depths of winter, Harran. I mean, people are voting in Amshir, and he is crazy about fire. He walks on nails and breathes like smoke, and people are around him. You fly away, afraid of him. You say, “Tarzan, and that the rabbit is a hat with a brisket egg on it, or a pomegranate, and that meat is now worth a pound, and no one in our country is hungry, and the poor, we tell him, ‘Oh father,’ and he travels to Sharm and Aswan until our pound. The name of God is upon him. He rules the world like in the past, and their dollar here is a burn to the hearts of the Americans, and the sanctity, the sons of God, are as deluded as women, and the rulers fight in Gaza and Freemasonry in Khabarkan This freedom is beautiful and delicious, and the people are dancing happily. It seems that he was not sleeping, covered or having dinner, and he fell asleep upset. Run quickly, Abdel Muti, improve the valley so that it is tired before it strikes our aorta, or we go crazy, too. Muhammad Abu Al-Hassan
Titled (Wounds of My People) #With my pen. Musad Ali Al-Bukhiti from Yemen Al-Bukhiti said, “Everything is healed with the permission of our dear Lord Al-Bari, and the wounds of all my people are healed and they live on. The descendants of kings are free, and the tragedies and sadness are in my grave in all parts and countries. We change the gloomy, dusty atmosphere after the storms with heavy rains, and every oppressor in Yemen who is arrogant will burn on the day my fire is lit, and I am a Yemeni donkey.” A free knight, known for my faith and my resolve. Do not be independent of my strength when I am patient with the fool, the seducer, and my manager. I am the ruler of wisdom, and my thoughts are subject to the command of my secrets. I am patient while I am approaching the goal by a hand. I measure the situation before my decision, and I determine my goals accurately. I cross and trample the battlefield like I can, and I am mighty in strength. My sword is drawn, and all are with the Yemeni sword. I wage war. Karar has fallen and turned, and my enemy has entered the core of my hurricane. All the past ages have reported great news about Al-Yamani. Oh, how many kingdoms, how many countries whose kings I used to force to obey me. I forced the Persians and the Ethiopians, the Berbers, the Romans, the Turks, and the Tatars. And I was the first supporter of the warning Prophet, the one whom God bestowed guidance on and chose. I believed what he did, and his people disavowed it, and I protected him. Among them in my home, I believed in him sincerely, and he was rejoicing, and he said, “You are my strength and my supporters,” and I raised my sword toward the sky, and I grow up and fight the people of evil. You are the infidels. May my prayers be pure and pure upon the pure Prophet. May his blessings be upon the best of mankind, my reader. #Greetings___to all 
