موسوعة

شعر عن الام

    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

    -1-

    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

    ***

    -2-

    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

    ***

    -3-

    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

    شاهد أيضآ  موضوع تعبير عن النظافة

    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

    ***

    -4-

    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

    شاهد أيضآ  وجه الاستشهاد بالايات ال 5 على كفر من حكم غير شرع الله

    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?

    شاهد أيضآ  حروف الجر – شرح شامل لحروف الجر

    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

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