poetry about mother
How sweet it would be for you to write and tweet it with a pure and sincere feeling, bless her, obey her, and appreciate her conditions that push you to acknowledge her merit and value, and imagine your life without her from the period of your breastfeeding and birth until now, how it would have changed and how it would have been if not for the grace of God upon you with this gift.
Hair models about the mother
My mom made me
My mother is the pulse of my life and the jewel of my heart
Redeem every atom of my being and my blood
I protect myself from harm and misfortune
Please teach you and pray well
I hope that the Lord will help me
Reply to your kindness and good call
Is it not, Lord, bless her and her?
End your forgiveness and good guidance
And he said to them,
Next to Ahmed Mostafak Al-Mukhtar
With what you gave and spent years of life
Without boredom, faltering and bad words
Do you remember my creation?
You and your brother and sister
Happy address or misery for your family
Do you remember how you were?
When you had a baby from your pregnancy
Would you tell us about your memory?
Since the first boyhood before your career
Have you ever thought about your fate?
If you are like filth lying to your death,
Who was the medicine for your disease?
Or any eye that did not sleep rest for your sleep
Who gave life and mind to achieve your goals
And make an effort to erase your dirt
The world was open when you came
And the free joy in the atmosphere is scattered before you are tied
And the good in them has come in your love
They chose a free alternative to the limitation prospects in your pain
They worked hard and sacrificed for you
They left a lot of self-love to satisfy you
And now life has passed and they are not around you
Messing and having fun with friends and their companions
And the parents, you see them in your account?
Walking and messing around with words and souls, how are you?
And money you are looking for is forced to leave your humanity
You succumb to the filth of consciences and the souls of your enemy
You are deceived, deceived, with no mind for you
Receive bad destinies with weakness that will destroy you
From wrath, darkness, or oppression against them
Do you remember, human, their right over you?
You and your sister are the address of happiness or misery for your family
Will you repeat the credit a fold to meet your help?
Will you make the heart full of your tenderness
Overwhelm those who sacrificed and suffered days, but years, for you
Half of the community is made by me
poetry about mother
She was created from a crooked rib
Howrah is a multi-faceted female
Al-Hasan is a disease when you shake it
Between sleep without reason or reason
And creation is what I like when it is complete
Balester, faith and creativity
Or is it a school they said about her?
If you prepare it, you will prepare a people of good races
And the girl how beautiful her youth when
Adorned with veils from strangers
And her tongue if he pardons a male and preserves it
About saying bad or hurting a mouth that exaggerates
And obey the Lord of the worlds and do not be
From other sellers everything van
You will be yes husband and loved ones
If you compare her soul with kindness and sincerity
And she is the mother’s yes when she sees her bounty
What you do not see with the dear dear
And advice from it from the bowels of the heart wrapped in flowers
For Huda or Jamil Nejja
And she is faithful if she is sincere in advising her
Her brother, sister, or children
And protect her freedom when she is
With religion tied with all tenderness
And you see it when you turn a blind eye
The dress of modesty covers it and decorates it
Do not desire falsehoods from passion
The ambitions of a world full of mines
And repels every party left
She wants evil without good
Dina died before a heart or conscience
False sweet words hide behind
Varieties and forms of cowardice
Don’t forget your mother with ideas and suits
It has been given by every precious
When sick or even when death
Don’t be reckless and cowardly
Stay and look her in the eye
The sky fills the heart that has been suffering for so long
In your love and growth I gave and from blood
Until you look strong, macho, with a true build
And make the fruits that were sown before
Invest in the ripest fruits
5- Change your place from my writing
Change your place for days, tiredness or staying up late
And look with your heart one day
When a baby cries, it hurts
Sadness from distress and suffering
sickness, hunger, or filth
It hurts and nowhere to be found
And the mother stays up and bewitches in anxiety
To reassure and warm the cold
And the father is mourning by your side
He seeks your medicine or warm clothing
And imagine the day it might be possible
There is imagination that does not occur in the mind
When garbage is the shelter of every baby
And the cold pinches in the body and intestines
And the loss of the mother and father and their tenderness
Flat without mercy, pity, or charity
And last the situation you were in
And the situation when you see it disgusts the imagination
Save those who are curious their curiosity
Protect and be of help and do not be selfish
He felt about the mother, no matter how much you try to enumerate her advantages in it, you cannot make a drop of pain from what she suffered, if not in your birth, in your upbringing and bringing out a generation in your own strength and youth, for it is an inexhaustible tender, and although some mothers have turned into real wolves, but they are listed with few, and excuses for them Concrete and unacceptable.
Dealing with the mother should be mixed with honor and acknowledgment of grace, without the slightest suspicion, because sacrificing health and life to serve you and raise you away from the desires of herself and her freedom is to be considered a sacrifice for those with benign origins and enlightening qualities, and her denial of ingratitude among those with corrupt minds.
One of the most beautiful things I have heard in poetry about the mother:
My mother, my love, I love *** O my heart, I adore this world
Oh sun that shines on my horizon *** Oh roses in life are sweet
O all the world, my hope *** You are sincerity and its meaning
You are a gift from my Lord *** so how would I live without Him?
What do I give you from the world *** my heart or my eyes my mother
And Ibrahim Al-Mundhir’s poetry when he expressed the cruelty and disobedience that became inflicted on children towards their parents, especially the mother:
poetry about mother
Someone once tempted an ignorant boy. . . . with his money, so that he may
He said, bring me your mother’s heart, boy. . . . You have the dirhams, the gems, and the pearls
So he went and put a dagger in her chest. . . . And the heart expelled it and returned to the trail
But he was too amazed. . . . So the sanctified heart rolled when it stumbled
The mother’s heart called to him while he was purified. . . . My darling, have you been harmed?
As if this voice despite his tenderness. . . . Heaven’s wrath on the boy poured down
And he saw a terrible crime that no one else had done since human history
And he turned towards the heart, washing it with what… His eyes overflowed with a torrent of lessons
And he says: O heart, take revenge on me and do not forgive, for my crime is unforgivable
And if I have mercy, I will commit suicide… Just as he was killed by me, he committed suicide
He drew his dagger to stab himself. . . . A stabbing will remain an example for those who consider it
The mother’s heart called to him, “Palm a hand, no.” . . . You stab my heart twice on the trail
The great poets such as Ahmad Shawqi, Nizar Qabbani, Hafez Ibrahim and others wrote poems about the mother, and enumerated her advantages, because she is not compensated if she is righteous except by the grace of the Most Merciful and the good connection with him.
For example: Farouk Jweideh wrote a poem entitled:
But she is my mother, he says:
In the corner looks my mother’s face
I don’t see him because he dwelt in the wings for years
If the eye is neglected a little, you will not see
But he who dwells in the wings will not be missed
And if you disappear like all absentees
My mother’s face appears in front of me whenever
The winds of sadness blew, and the forehead trembled
People leave in the eyes and disappear
And become sad in the ribs
And a shiver in the heart that beats every time
but it’s my mom
Life passes by, I live in it.. and it inhabits me
And they seem like shadows floating faintly
on the sad heart
Since we split, the range around me is narrowing
And everything after that is a long life
With the days it became pleasant
not miss. and does not show
We call it nostalgia
Verses from the Book of Major Sins attributed to Imam al-Dhahabi, may God have mercy on him
Your mother would have the right if she knew a lot
How many nights have you been so heavy that you complain… She has a whiff of hers
And in the situation, if you know the hardship for her… Whoever suffocates from it, the heart will fly
And how much did she wash away the hurt from you with her right… and her stone is only you have a bed
And redeem you for what she complains about herself… And from her breasts, you have a tiger
And how many times did she get hungry and gave you her strength… tenderness and pity when you were young
O he who is wise and follows passion… and ah, for the blind of the heart, and he is seeing
So write it down, so desire the generality of its supplications… for when you are praying for it, you are poor
Among the most beautiful of what the great poet Mahmoud Sami Al-Baroudi said in lamenting his mother:
And what life after a mother is lost.. as one loses the snowmobile in the thirst
She turned away, so be patient with me, and came back to me..
وَلَــــمْ يَــبْــقَ إِلاَّ ذُكْـــــرَة َـ تَـبْــعَــثُ الأَســـــى .. وَطَــيْـــفٌ يُـوَافِـيـنــي إِذَا الــطَّـــرْفُ هَــوَّمَـــا
My eyes were filled with joy, and my heart was filled with joy, and both parties were disappointed.
فَــلَـــوْلاَ اعْــتِــقَــادِي بِـالْـقَــضَــاءِ وَحُــكْــمِــهِ .. لـقـطــعــتُ نــفــســـي لــهــفـــة ً وتــنــدم
The good news is that the heart has been healed. So, Suwayda was about to become impossible, so they settled down.
َلَــيْـــكَ; فَــقَـــدْ ثَــلَّــمْــتَ عَـــرْشـــاً مُـمـنَّــعــاً .. وَفلـلـتَ صمـصـامـاً وذلـلــتَ ضيـغـمـا
poetry about mother
The poet Mummad bin Abdul Aziz says:
Mama, what would Benani plan? Love and longing squeeze me
This book is for you from a heart in which nostalgia raged, so it shook my pillars
What do I say about her that dwelt in the folds of the heart and conscience?
What do I say as she is the one who was mentioned in the Sunnah and in the Qur’an?
How much was mentioned in the book most! God is first, then you are second
God is my command, do you obey me? Or will it be logical and rhetorical?
Are the meanings and thought correct for me? Or are the words held above my tongue?
Perhaps the tongue uttered some of them, and the lips were afraid of their release
And if it becomes above the lips, it may melt on them from the flame of my tenderness
I flipped through various dictionaries publicly throwing letters containing my feelings
The letters of the daad ran away, they ran away and denied me, I declared my disobedience
Do words cost more than they can handle? Jalal Fadl the mother has seen me
But I never keep trying to untie my feelings with my tongue
Let the heart sing with the sweetest tone, and let my guitar hear my melodies
You are life, and you are my happiness, my soul and my mind, my paradise
Because you are early in the darkness of my darkness, and you are pink if my gardener blooms
My mother is a gift, there is no limit to her abundance, she is a candle.. a sea without shores
I still remember a fetus in the womb in my darkness No I wouldn’t suffer
The pulse between our hearts, oh, the pulse of our hearts, how much meaning it contains!
Walls collapsed between us and were destroyed, for love destroys the strongest walls
I still remember me as a boy, I rise on her shoulders, I don’t wear the shoulders
How tired you are for my comfort, and it terrifies me that you grieve to ease my sorrows
If you were to walk around her chest, you would find my place between the ribs
In every memory to fulfill its feast, I light candles of love and gratitude
Wax tears shed, whether it is a heart without a human being
The birds embrace in their nests, and the world accepts the hand of tenderness
The waves strut in their flow and the noises roam in the ears
The breezes shake hands in their air and perfume the world without permission
The flowers dance in their kindergartens, and the jasmine reveals the basil
Arise, truly abolish motherhood, that I may become a prisoner in the hands of the gardener
I should touch her palm, or maybe she can smell me safe
God, what is this beauty? And what do I see? The earth appears to be the paradise of the Most Merciful
Mama, what could my brain miss? Tears fall short of the seed of charity
I have come, mother, on the day of fulfillment, I am led by a heart filled with love
Love because you deserve passion, it surrounds me, and shakes my whole being
And the other is the love that is completed for me, my faith is not complete without others
I am not afraid of humiliation in existence, for you are my consolation, my peace and my hopes
I am not afraid in the cities, the loneliness of my house, your heart, and the womb of my country
I am not afraid of parting left my love and your love will meet
I am not afraid of anything in the world. Suffice it to say, passion wanders in my veins
And last but not least, preserve your mother’s bounty and work on her righteousness, or sacrifice what you sacrificed and you will not be able to do what you have done. In its existence thanks to the Most Merciful first and foremost.
Your memory is about the mother
made by me
And the sky of your memory rises and celebrates
From me to you, my dearest wishes
My mother, Nesma, I lost her
May I have a second spring?
I want to see your face full of smiles
And the tenderness of your cessation on my body
Sweeten the mind and erase my suffering
And I think, Mom, what are we going to do?
If I met you and felt the warmth of your tenderness and safety.
Your memory fades from time to time
I hope the past will return and things will change
To play and play under your eyes and ask for
I want to calm down and be safe from harm
For El Faseh Network