قصيدة مهد الشوامخ .. الشاعر الاستاذ عز الدين الخير ، كتاب اليوبيل الذهبي

The poem of the cradle of Al-Shawamekh, the poet Professor Izz Al-Din Al-Khair

Say.. I want you to say
Something about the beautiful past
About the magic of my days and my pride
My childhood and my inclinations
Something is tearing apart Sabah
Age overshadows the seasons
And fills the flocks of nights
The wanderers on the horizon
* * *
Tell me, I redeemed you, any magic
In preventing you from being miserly
When the spring of life came
There is a wilting storm
Tell me, where is the glory of the dawn?
From Haram Al Aseel
* * *
To look from behind the seats
Magic your lazy world
The hustle of the roar by when
Linche and cooing string
Remains in every corner
From adulterers
* * *
Play here, and wreck my stuff
And my fear.. or my curiosity
Over walls and benches
Slender Pen Theatre
* * *
Where are the comrades? They have gone
in total visual range
We come and go and the void
The end of a bored heart
And we get lost in the depths of time
And you are steadfast
I'm still after drafting a biography
Rey next and braid
You renew on the run
You abstain from laziness
* * *
Cradle of Shawamekh is my life story
. . . Bloody seasons
I looked into my great homeland
The intentions are tightened without locking
The ropes opened in my neck
I claim to have smashed the cables


And my opponent humiliates me
In her horse show
Watani, Ghada's hesitation
between denial and acceptance
He never tortures me and makes me homeless
In his labyrinth is my guide
And he wants me what I don't want
And my thoughts and my thoughts are lined up
And if you are thirsty, then this is my taste
Never salty and indigo
And if you get angry, it is
To be saddened in my throat.. my prayers
And my people shall dwell in tents
And in the heights of the upper Mqili
Hungry young and wild
I reap the generosity of palm trees
Honorable hands
Permanent precipitation wipes
They washed the sand with their dust
You washed it with sand
And we keep holding back after that
in Afnan. . . cables
* * *
The cradle of the tallows that go away
The anchors will not go away
I took out the tired oasis
The return of honorable mention
Arabism shield from your gum
He grew up in a rocky stream

* * *