It was the first tenth night of the blessed month of Ramadan, and after completing my daily work, I begin to sing my own poems: a wound in the heart is not only a heart problem but also a serious human problem. Man is not only a feature of being but also a wonderful feature of man. The darkness in a light bulb is not only the darkness of a light bulb but also the dark side of people. The light in the bulb is not only the light of the bulb but also the main light of people. Meanwhile, my better half told me that the incandescent lamp is still on and that we should get up for lunch before sunrise (Sahur / Sehri), so turn off the light and sleep a little.
The cover of life was covered in clouds of despair, terrible lights illuminated the night, dogs barked on the playing field, bird alarms were as fast as a flash, trees fell, and houses trembled. Meanwhile, the drops of the mantle of life called me in a dream so that I would find out about your drop in the raindrops, mark your drop in the raindrops, keep your drop in the raindrops, wash your drop in the raindrops and keep the drops in the raindrops.
I began to move to the window, I opened the window to capture the look of raindrops, and what I saw – a drop transformed into a beautiful bird came up to me, striking its wings and dancing in the middle of the drops. rain, they sing a song: know your drop-in raindrops, overthrow other drops in raindrops, fight with other drops in raindrops and hit other drops in raindrops. My field of vision focused on the beautiful bird, and suddenly a drop of rain with great intensity hit the right-wing of the bird, and for some time the bird was unbalanced, but later it managed to cope with the hardness of the drop. the rain continued to flap its wings. with another song: beat your intellect wings to nourish your soul, know your intellectual encounters to nourish your soul, beat your appetite wings to protect your soul, beat your appetite strokes to protect your soul.
At some point, I was very tired of seeing the suffering of a beautiful bird in the midst of raindrops, I started screaming, be careful! Be careful! my heart was in my mouth and suddenly ah! it came out of my heart, all is well! Things are good! He was looking forward to the bird, and then another drop of rain fell on the left wing of the bird, and this time with much greater intensity, and the bird tried to restore its regular location, despite repeated attempts, he was not able to restore its normal format, and Kaer Straight above the tree, a bruised and worn bird resting on a tree branch began to sing again, this time with a different song. In search of breath, the dust wants to fly, find its breath, breathe its breath. to tell her breath, the dust wants to fly up.
After some time, the bruised bird spread its wings and made every effort to defeat them, and finally found its way into the sky, this time flapping its wings with bruises and frights and with another song. about a thunderstorm, reflecting the facts of our seeds with thunder in the form of lightning, to warn the black heart, to avoid the running wrath of God.
A bird approached me, tears rolled down my cheeks, and raindrops washed me. Now the raindrops became stubborn, blocking the flight of the bird, and the unfortunate bird with bruises and fears changed her song. My first and last breath, my birth and death, oh! my life, prepare your first for my last home and my grave, oh! my life, prepare your house for my grave, life and my test, oh! my life, prepare your life for my test.
I was surprised to see the suffering of a beautiful bird, and tears continued to roll down my cheeks, and finally, the unfortunate bird with bruises and fears, locked in a storm of nature, sings its last song. Finally, the dust marries the dust, but our dust fights for the lust in order to gain trust, finally the dust marries the dust, but our dust goes to the eggs to meet the thugs, finally, the dust marries the dust, but our dust breaks ties with sores on the face, finally the dust marries the dust. I repeated the same letter in a dream, and they called me from our local Masjid and offered food at dawn (sahur/sehri), and I woke up with tears that rolled down my cheeks.