ديوان شعر. عاشقة الحروف. الجزء الاول. للشاعرة. هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان الكاملابي

collection of poems. Lover of letters. Part one. For the poet. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamalabi 

*****

          الحرية

          *****

سألونى ماهو معنى الحريية

فقلت للحرية معانى كلها معنية

والحرية هدف له اصول سامية

وللحرية أنواع كثيرة فردية

حرية الرأى حرية فردية

وحرية مبدأ وفعل حرية فعلية

وحرية دين وشريعة عقائدية

معانى كثيرة تلك هى الحرية

لكن لها شروط أساسية

أولا ان لاتجور على حريات فردية

وأن لاتتجاوز خطوط أصلية

الحرية أصل ومعنى نبيل وعفوية

الحرية قومية

الحرية لا للعنصرية

الحرية لا للفساد والمحسوبية

الحرية لا للواسطة والمصالح الدنيوية

الحرية معنى جميل يخالف النرجسية

الحرية كلمة حق تشفع للذات الإلهية

الحرية انا وأنت والوحدة العربية

الحرية ايثار لا أثرة فردية

الحرية شعار لكل من يعرف معنى الانسانية

بقلمى...

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

المؤهل/ دبلوم تحاليل طبية..

الجنسية/ سودانية

Special for my collection.. The Lover of Letters.. Under publication to Tahya Misr Publishing House for Creativity. After the greeting, attached in the comment is the cover photo ***** Freedom ***** They asked me what is the meaning of freedom, so I said freedom has meanings, all of which are relevant, and freedom is a goal with lofty origins, and freedom has lofty origins. Many types: Individual freedom of opinion, individual freedom, freedom of principle and action, actual freedom, freedom of religion, and doctrinal law. Many meanings. This is freedom, but it has basic conditions. First, that it does not infringe on individual freedoms and that it does not cross original lines. Freedom is a noble origin and meaning and spontaneity. Freedom is nationalism. Freedom, no to racism, freedom, no to corruption and nepotism. Freedom. No to mediocrity and worldly interests. Freedom has a beautiful meaning that contradicts narcissism. Freedom is a word of truth that intercedes for the divine self. Freedom, you and I, and Arab unity. Freedom is altruism, not individual influence. Freedom is a slogan for everyone who knows the meaning of humanity. With my pen... Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi. Qualification: Diploma in Medical Analysis.. Nationality: Sudanese. 

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       التواضع

      ********

تواضعوا ف التواضع صفة جميلة فأسمعوا

وأعملوا بها ووعوا

واحذروا الكبر فأنه حفرة

فأحذروا ان فيها تقعوا

ومن تواضع لله ياسادتى رفعه

فأحثوا اليه الخطى وأسعوا

فأنه من صفات الرحمن

فإياها التمسوا وأدعوا

فالتواضع أصل الصفات الطيبة ف رعوا

وكل من تواضع اشتهر والناس به أذاعوا

والكبر آفة المؤمن فأبتعدوا عنه واهجعوا

والكبر نهايته شبر فى الأرض الى تراب فمات ونعوا

فالتواضع من صفات الرحمن

فاتعظ به وتلحف بعبائته ياإنسان

والتواضع سمو بالنفس والايمان

فالتواضع صفة الحنان المنان

والكبر والغرور من صفات الشيطان

فأحذر واستعذ بالله من وسوسة الزنان

والتواضع مبدأ وهيبة ذات صدى رنان

والتواضع شعبة من الايمان

ونفحة من ذى الجلال والاكرام

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Humility ******** Be humble and you will be exalted. Humility is a beautiful quality, so listen, act on it, be aware, and beware of arrogance, for it is a pit, so beware lest you fall into it. The Most Merciful, so they sought and prayed for it, for humility is the origin of good qualities, so they took care of it, and everyone who humbled himself became famous, and the people publicized him, and arrogance is the scourge of the believer, so they stay away from him and lie down, and arrogance ends with an inch of earth to the dust, so he died and was mourned. Humility is one of the attributes of the Most Merciful, so be advised by it and wrap yourself in His cloak, O human. Humility is a sublimity of the soul and faith, so humility is an attribute of tenderness, benevolence, and arrogance. Arrogance is one of the characteristics of Satan, so beware and seek refuge in God from the whisperings of adultery. Humility is a principle of prestige with a resonant echo. Humility is a branch of faith and a whiff of the One who possesses majesty and honor. Written by: Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi 

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خاص بديوانى المسمى..عاشقة الحروف..تحت الاصدار

     الحياء

    ******

حقا الحياء وسامة ونقاء

والوقاحة هو منها براء

الحياء كنز للمرء وثراء

وهو كالحمامة فى غار حراء

حماية ووقاية من الأفتراء

هو نعمة الله على المرء البراء

هو قمة المثالية يخلو من الهراء

وهو زينة المرء فى العراء

وهو مرشده فى حياة كالصحراء

وهو دفء للمرء كالفراء

الحياء شعبة من الايمان

ف لتتدثروا به أيها الخلان

الحياء هبة من الله لايعرفه البخلاء

فالعطايا والمنن من رب السماء

فإن لم تستحى فأفعل ماتشاء

وبالحياء تصفو الحياة من الكبرياء

والحياء محبة وانسانية وأخاء

به تأمن من المصائب والبلاء

ويهذب النفس من الأهواء

ويرضى عنك الله ورسوله والأنبياء

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Modesty ****** Truly, modesty is poisonous and pure, and insolence is one of its innocence. Modesty is a person’s treasure and wealth. It is like a dove in the cave of Hira. Protection and protection from slander. It is God’s blessing upon a person. Innocence is the pinnacle of idealism. It is devoid of slander. Nonsense is a person's adornment in the open, and it is his guide in a life like a desert, and it is warmth for a person like fur. Modesty is a branch of faith, so cover yourself with it, you imbecile. Modesty is a gift from God that the stingy do not know. Gifts and favors are from the Lord of Heaven. If you are not ashamed, then do what you want. With modesty, life is purified from pride, and modesty is love, humanity, and brotherhood through it. You will be safe from calamities and calamities, and your soul will be purified from desires, and God, His Messenger, and the prophets will be pleased with you. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman 

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        حروف بلا عنوان

        *************

حروف بلا عنوان

كتبها شاعر وفنان

حروف مبعثرة بإتقان

حروف ربما بها متناقضات وأخرى سيان

وأطلق لجام خيله والعنان

ف هو فارس خيال وفنان

جلس هائما يبحث فى حروفه عن الحنان

حنان فقده مع رحيل حبيبه بزمان

والآن يتحسر ويردد ليتك تعود يازمان

لم يعد يحس بدفء وأمان

وظل يوسوس له شيطان

ف بعض الحروف تمضى وتبحث عن رفيق ولى من زمان

وترجع لأنها ضلت طريقها

ف رفيقها رحل ولم يعد له عنوان

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under the publication Untitled Letters ************* Untitled letters written by a poet and artist Masterly scattered letters Letters that may have contradictions and others that are the same And he unleashed the bridle of his horse and the rein, for he is a knight of imagination And an artist sat wandering, searching in his letters for tenderness, a tenderness that he lost with the departure of his beloved long ago, and now he regrets and repeats, “I wish you would return to the past.” He no longer feels warmth and security, and a demon keeps whispering to him. Some letters go on and look for a long-gone companion, and return because they lost their way. Their companion is gone and no longer has an address. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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        زواج قاصرة

        *********

دقت الموسيقى لتعلن فاجعة زواج قاصرة

وكانت فرحةترقص بألوان سافرة

يالها من مهزلة محزنة ساخرة

وجريمة شنعاء كاسرة

لقد أوهموها بطريقة ماكرة

منوها بفساتين وفسح جميلة جاسرة

وهى بعد لم تبلغ الحلم ولا حتى الخاصرة

وبعد انقشاع الفرحة ألم بها ألم لفؤادها عاصرا

كانت تظن انها الفائزة العروس الظافرة

وبعدها أصبحت مكتئبة عبوس نافرة

وأصبحت ضعيفة هزيلة ضامرة

ويل لها من أهلها زوجوها قاصرة

ف ذبحوها ذبح شاة راقصة عاثرة

فرحة بنهاية محتومة وهى عنها بلهاء غافلة

من المسؤل عن تلك المهزلة النافلة؟

وكيف لايعاقبه القانون وهو لم يراعى شريعة متغافلا

وفات الأوان وانطفئت أنوار البهجة الماكرة

لتظهر الحقيقةبوجه بشع كوجه ساحرة

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under publication Marriage of a minor ********* The music sounded to announce the tragedy of the marriage of a minor, and she was happy, dancing in blatant colors. What a sad, sarcastic farce and a heinous, crushing crime. They deceived her in a cunning way, describing her with beautiful, bold dresses and lounges, and she... She had not yet reached the dream, not even the waist, and after the joy had subsided, a pain struck her in her heart, squeezing her heart. She thought that she was the winner, the victorious bride, and after that she became depressed, frowning, and became weak, emaciated, and atrophied. Woe to her from her family. They married her off as a minor, and they slaughtered her like the slaughter of a stumbling, dancing sheep, rejoicing in an inevitable end, while she was foolish, unaware of it. Who is responsible for this ridiculous farce? How can the law not punish him when he did not observe the law, ignoring it? It is too late and the lights of cunning joy have been extinguished for the truth to appear with an ugly face like the face of a witch. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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       الندم

      ******

الندم مرارة والم

لن نستطيع معرفة معاناته مهما خط من قلم

فالندم ليس مجرد كلم

ولن ندرى مهما سادت بيننا هدنة ورفعنا العلم

هل نلوم غيرنا أم نحن نلم؟!

فالندم أشبه بلزج من هلم

وأسبابه كثيرة منها مانعلم وما هو غير ملم

الندم وما ادراك من الندم

فراغ وألم وحزن وعدم

الندم يأسرنا ك جوارى وخدم

ومهما حاولنا أن ندارى ونردم

فالجرح سيظل قائما مهما قدم

ف جرحه ليس مجرد دم وكدم

فهو غائر مهما شربنا من كؤوس المدم

وأصعبه ذلك الذى فات أوانه ولم يدم

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Regret ****** Regret is bitterness and pain. We will not be able to know his suffering, no matter what is written by a pen. Regret is not just words, and we will not know no matter how much a truce prevails between us and we raise the flag. Do we blame others or do we blame?! Regret is like slime from hell, and its causes are many, including what we know and what we are not familiar with. Regret and what we perceive of regret is emptiness, pain, sadness, and lack of remorse captivates us as servants and servants. No matter how much we try to treat and heal, the wound will remain, no matter how old it is. His wound is not just blood and bruises, it is deep, no matter how much we drink from the cups of blood. The most difficult thing is that which is too late and has not lasted. Written by: Howayda Muhammad al-Hasan Othman al-Kamil al-Abi 

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          بركان فى الأقصى

          **************

بركان يغلى فى الأقصى وطوفان

وكل فلسطينى أطلق لغضبه العنان

آه ياعينى على الأوطان

وما يحدث لفلسطين والكل متحسر ندمان

آه مما يحدث فى ذلك الزمان

ومن يمسح دمعة لاجئ متشرد عن الأوطان

لاجئ كل ذنبه انه يبحث عن حريته كانسان

حرب ودمار وتشرد يقود للجنان

لاجئين قد حرموا من دفء الوطن والحنان

أواه ولتبكى ياعينى على الأوطان

وعلى عرب ضاعت منهم الأوطان

اطمئنى ياحبيبة القلب فلسطين

ستشهدى حريتك يوما

وسنشهد معركة تذكرنا بمعركة حطين

وبتخطيط عربى ذكى فطين

واطفال فلسطين ابطال الحجارة

تحدثت ببطولتهم كل وادى وحارة

وتناقلت شجاعتهم من جارة لجارة

وهرب بنى صهيون ك جرذ وفارة

وسيشهد التاريخ وكل قارة

ونضحك ممن هربوا وتركوا الأغارة

وممن لاذوا بالفرار كأى صهيون فارا

وسيرتفع علم فلسطين وسيهلل ويكبر كل من زارا

ونسمع يوما تلك الأخبار السارة

وهكذا الحياة حزن مرة وفرح تارة

وسيشهد بشجاعة فلسطين كل المارة

ونشهد بأن عضب فلسطين اشبه بالنار

وتندلع نيران الغضب ويلبس بنى صهيون ثوب الهزيمة والخزى والعار

بقلم...

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under the publication Volcano in Al-Aqsa ************** A volcano boiling in Al-Aqsa and a flood and every Palestinian unleashes his anger Oh my eyes on the homelands and what is happening to Palestine and everyone is sad and remorseful Oh what It happens in that time, and whoever wipes away the tear of a refugee displaced from the homeland, a refugee whose only sin is that he is searching for his freedom as a human being, war, destruction, and displacement lead to paradise, refugees who have been deprived of the warmth of the homeland and tenderness. Oh, let us cry, my eyes, for the homelands and for Arabs whose homelands have been lost. Rest assured, beloved of the heart. Palestine will witness your freedom one day, and we will witness a battle. It reminds us of the Battle of Hattin, with smart and clever Arab planning, and the children of Palestine, the heroes of the stones. Every valley and neighborhood spoke of their heroism, and their courage was passed on from neighbor to neighbor. The children of Zion fled like a mouse and a mouse, and history and every continent will witness. We will laugh at those who fled and abandoned the raids, and at those who fled like any fleeing Zion. The flag of Palestine will rise, and everyone who visited them will cheer and exalt. One day we hear that good news, and this is how life is sometimes sadness and sometimes joy, and all passers-by will bear witness to Palestine’s courage, and we bear witness that Palestine’s anger is like fire, and the flames of anger will break out, and the children of Zion will wear the garment of defeat, disgrace, and disgrace. Written by... Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman 

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       طفلة عشقها الحروف

       ****************

منذ كانتطفلة لم تلعب بالعروسة

بل اتخذت الحروف لعبة مدروسة

طفلة لم تبنى بيتا

بل كانت تلعب بالحروف

صنعت من الحروف جملا وكلمات

طفلة لعبت واتقنت الحروف

نحو وبلاغة وأدب وصروف

وتشهد لابيها بذلك المعروف

فقد كان حقا أستاذ وبروف

وكانت تصنع منها تلال وجروف

وتصنع منها ذئب ودجاج وخروف

كانت تصنع الشاى بثلاثة حروف

وتصنع أرز ايضا بثلاثة حروف

كانت كل مملكتها تلك الحروف

وفى مراهقتها احبت فتى الحروف

قرأت عنه فى رواية وتخيلته بطلها من تلك الحروف

كانت تتسكع وتلهو وترقص معهم

تذهب لحفلاتهم ومهرجاناتهم وتراقص شابا وسيم رسمت وسامته بتلك الحروف

كان كل عالمها لايحتوى الا على الحروف

لم تبالى بمال او جمال أو عشق سوى عشق الحروف

ولم تعرف البشر وخباياهم الا من خلال الحروف

لم تعرف خبايا النفس البشرية الا من خلال الحروف

لم تعرف معنى الحقد والكره والحب الا من خلال الحروف

نظرة الألم رسمتها لها الحروف

نظرة العين صورتها لها الحروف

نظرة الألم الأمل الحقد الكره كلها رسمتها الحروف

كانت حبيسة جدران فقط مع الحروف

كانت تمرح داخل مكتبة الحروف

ولن تنسى أبدا ربيبتها ومعلمتها لن تنسى الحروف

بقلم...

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called..The Lover of Letters..under publication A child who loved letters **************** Since she was a child, she did not play with a doll, but rather took the letters as a thoughtful toy. A child did not build a house, but rather played with letters. Made of Letters are sentences and words. A child played and mastered the letters, grammar, rhetoric, literature, and morphology. She testified to her father for that kindness. He was truly a professor and a professor. She used to make hills and cliffs out of them, and make a wolf, chicken, and a sheep out of them. She used to make tea with three letters and also make rice with three letters. Her entire kingdom was those letters. And in her adolescence, she loved the letter boy. She read about him in a novel and imagined him as her hero. From those letters, she used to hang out, have fun, and dance with them, go to their parties and festivals, and dance with a handsome young man. She depicted his handsomeness with those letters. Her whole world contained nothing but letters. She did not care about money, beauty, or love other than the love of letters. She did not know people and their secrets except through letters. She knows the secrets of the human soul only through letters. She did not know the meaning of hatred, hate, and love except through letters. The look of pain drawn by the letters. The look of the eye drawn to her by the letters. The look of pain, hope, hatred, hatred, all of it drawn by the letters. She was confined to the walls only with the letters. She was having fun inside the library of letters and she will never forget. Her stepdaughter and teacher will never forget the letters, written by... Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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        قلبى جامعة دول عربية

       *******************

قلبي جامعة دول عربية

وعقلي تاريخ يحمل هم الانسانية

روحي هائمة في دنيا البراءة والشفافية

تنشر الوعي وتدافع عن الحرية

صوتي يناشد الحق والعدل حبا برب البرية

عيني لاتري الا كل جميل وترفض الخطية

اذني لاتسمع سوي صوت عقلي وربيا

فمي لاينطق الا بحق داخل فؤاديا

سماء اهدافي زرقاء نيلية

واهدافي سامية نبيلة جميلة ك حورية

وطريقي مهما كان صعبا فسأجعله سهلا نديا

طالما معي ربي فسنحققه سويا

وماذا أخاف وربي يشد ازري شدا قويا؟

افكاري تنبع من نداءات خفية

وثقافتي عصارة عقول تذخر بكنوز الهية

نفسي منزهة عن اطماع الدنيا زاهدة صوفية

وشئ مني يحلق في عوالم روحانية

مبدأي هو الخير وفي سبيله اتبني اي قضية

ضميري يمد يدا ويكفكف دمع كل محتاج في بلية

من. انا؟ انا انسانة طبيعية

تسعي للسلام فلنحققه سويا

ويدا بيد نبني عالما ورديا

كل ما اكونه فضل لحبيبتي مصر الفتية

هناك تعلمت اول حرف كتبته وقرأت اول كتاب وتشكلت بأخلاق ثرية

فسلام لمن له المعروف في تكويني

بقلم..

ولتحيا جمهورية مصر العربية

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under publication My heart is a league of Arab countries ******************* My heart is a league of Arab countries And my mind is a history that carries the concern of humanity My soul is wandering in the world of innocence and transparency published Awareness and defending freedom. My voice calls for truth and justice out of love for the Lord of the wilderness. My eyes only see everything beautiful and reject sin. My ears only hear the voice of my mind and God. My mouth only speaks with truth. Inside my heart is a sky. My goals are indigo blue and my goals are lofty and noble. Beautiful as a mermaid. And my path, no matter how difficult it is, I will make it smooth and smooth as long as I have my Lord. We will achieve it together. What should I fear when God strengthens my strength? My thoughts come from hidden calls, and my culture is a sap of minds abounding with divine treasures. My soul is free from worldly ambitions, a Sufi ascetic, and something of me soars in spiritual worlds. My principle is goodness, and for its sake I adopt any cause. My conscience extends a hand and stifles the tears of every needy person in a calamity. I? I am a normal human being who seeks peace. Let us achieve it together, and hand in hand we build a rosy world. Everything I am is a credit to my beloved young Egypt. There I learned the first letter I wrote, read the first book, and was formed with rich morals. Peace be upon whoever is well known for forming me with a pen.. Long live the Arab Republic of Egypt. 

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    كفى ملامة

   *********

كفى ملامة

فالنفس تتوق للهدوء والسلام

كفانا ضجيجا وكلاما

ما عاد تكفى الملامة

كان حبنا هدوء ورقة كلاما

ثم أصبح حربا

وطارت عنا حمامة السلام

ترى من فينا الملام؟!!

كنت أراك فى المنام

كان صوتك كهديل حمام

والآن أراك كابوسا لايهدأ ولاينام

أصبح صوتك ك نعيق غراب

يهوى الفراق والدمار

يهوى ان يهد مابيننا من عمار

كيف حدث مابيننا وسار؟!!

وحمام السلام كيف طار؟!!

وكأن مابيننا أصبح حربا وثارا

نهدأ حينا ونثور تارة

وكيف لانخجل من الحب وقد كسيناه عارا؟!!

وكيف بعدما حدث نلتمس لأنفسنا أعذارا؟!!

كان حبا وانتهى وأصبح عقوقا

ك عقوق ابن لأبيه كان من المفترض ان يصبح بارا

وأصبح باردا بعدما كانت اشواقنا حارة

وتناقلت الألسن شائعات فراقنا

من حارة ل حارة

ووشوشت كل جارة فى اذن جارة

ان حبنا هد كيانه وأصبح خائرا

وتبلبلت افكارنا واصبحت حائرة

واصبحنا حديث كل مارة

وهرب السلام من دارنا

وطار الحمام وماعاد زار

وتعبت من ملامتك مرارا

واصبحت بيننا عداوة جهارا

وماعادت قصتنا بها اخبار سارة

بل اصبحت وباء ومرض ضار

وشنت بيننا للحرب غارة

وشبت بيننا للفراق نار

وماعدت تجدى الملامة

بعدما اصابنا شك وظن وملل وغيرة وقلة فى الكرامة

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under publication. Enough blaming ********* Enough blaming. The soul longs for calm and peace. Enough of the noise and talk. Blame is no longer enough. Our love was calm and gentle in words. Then it became war. The dove of peace flew from us to see who is in us. To blame?!! I used to see you in a dream, your voice was like the cooing of doves, and now I see you as a nightmare that does not calm down or sleep. Your voice has become like the croaking of a crow that loves separation and destruction, that wants to destroy the people between us. How did what happen between us happen?!! How did the doves of peace fly?!! It is as if what is between us has become a war and revolt. Sometimes we calm down and sometimes we revolt. How can we not be ashamed of love when we have covered it with shame?!! How, after this happened, do we make excuses for ourselves?!! It was love, and it ended and became disobedient, like disobedience, a son to his father. He was supposed to become righteous and became cold after our longings were hot, and rumors of our separation spread from one neighborhood to another, and every neighbor whispered in her neighbor’s ear, that our love destroyed his being and he became timid, and our thoughts were confused and confused, and we became the talk of every passerby and he fled. Peace has come from our home, and the pigeons have flown and no longer visit, and I am tired of blaming you over and over again. There has become an open enmity between us, and our story no longer contains good news. Rather, it has become an epidemic and a harmful disease. A war has been waged among us and a fire has broken out between us for separation. Blame no longer works after we have been afflicted by doubt, suspicion, boredom, jealousy, and a lack of dignity. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan. Othman Al Kamlabi 

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   سيدة القصور

   *********

تغزل فى وقال

إننى سيدة القصور

وأن قلبى جرئ جسور

وأنه لم و لن يكون لى مثيل على مر العصور

وأن جمالى فتان سبحان المصور

ولكن أواه يافتاة

إن مهرك أغلى المهور

ياأصيلة خيالة وأجمل من مهور

ولك رقة ماء عذب سلسبيل طهور

وصوت الحق عندك قوى جهور

وأن حبك فى قلبى سيبقى عبر الدهور

وستكونين عروسى ذات يوم

وافرش دربك بالزهور

إن حبك ارقنى ودوما عيناى سهور

وحالى منذ رؤيتك متقلبة ولم أعد افرق بين الأعوام والشهور

إن حبك فى قلبى قوى صامد قهور

ولكن فتاتى

ستكونين لى حتما وسأنبش الصخر  لأدفع أغلى المهور

وكيف لايكون وانت سيدة قلبى وملكة حياتى ومملكتى وسيدة القصور

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under the publication The Lady of Palaces ********* flirted with me and said that I am the Lady of Palaces and that my heart is bold and bold and that there has never been and will never be anyone like me throughout the ages and that my beauty is charming. Glory be to the photographer, but oh girl Your dowry is the most precious of all the dowries, O pure horse, and more beautiful than dowries. You have the tenderness of fresh water, Salsabil is pure, and your voice of truth is powerful and loud, and your love in my heart will remain throughout the ages, and you will be my bride one day, and I will cover your path with flowers. Your love has comforted me, and my eyes are always awake, and my condition since I saw you is fluctuating, and I no longer differentiate between years and months. Your love in my heart is strong, steadfast, and oppressive, but you will definitely be my girl, and I will dig up the rocks to pay the most expensive dowries. How can it not be, when you are the lady of my heart, the queen of my life, my kingdom, and the lady of the palaces? Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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وذاب الجليد

*********

ساد بيننا هجر وفراق

بعد ان كان حبنا هادئ وراق

وأصبحت الليالى مرة المذاق

وتعبنا وسئمنا والصدر منا ضاق

ابتعد يوما بعد يوم وكان الغياب

وكان يشد حبل الهجر وتملص بانسياب

وتملص من وعوده كمن يخلع الثياب

والهم والغم ملء رأسه شيب

بعد أن كان حبا فرحا وأطياب

برزت منه مخالب وأنياب

وتولنى منه خوف وهياب

وقال انه عن حبى قد تاب

وقال قولا بالمنطق وأناب

وأنه عاد الى رشده وأثاب

وان ظنه بى وبحبى قد خاب

وظن أن رأيه سديد ولقلبى طعن وأصاب

وظن أننى أحتمل غيابه إذا غاب

وان حياتى بدونه فرح مستطاب

وجلسنا بعد هجر نتناقش تحت اللبلاب

وفجاة ظهر قبس من نور محبة اواب

ولقلوبنا ذاب جليدها وأصاب

ورجع بنا العهد بعد أن تاب

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under publication and the ice melted ********* Abandonment and separation prevailed between us after our love was calm and refined, and the nights became bitter and we were tired and fed up, and our chest was tight, he moved away day after day, and absence was and was tightening a rope. Abandonment, and he evaded smoothly, and evaded his promises like one who takes off his clothes, and anxiety and grief filled his head with gray hair. After it had been love, joy, and perfumes, claws and fangs emerged from it, and fear and awe came from him. He said that about my love, he had repented, and he said a word with reason, and repented, and that he had come to his senses and rewarded, and that his belief in me and my love had been disappointed and disillusioned. His opinion is sound, and my heart is stabbed and wounded, and he thinks that I can bear his absence if he is absent, and that my life without him is pure joy. We sat after desertion, discussing under the ivy, and suddenly a spark of light from Awab’s love appeared, and the ice of our hearts melted and he was wounded, and the covenant was restored to us after he repented. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi. 

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      وداعا

     ****

وداعا

وداعا للحب والصبابة

ومشاعر مدوزنة بمهابة

وحب مر كالسحابة

كأنه ماكان إلا وهما وسرابا

ماكان به رقة بل عنف وحرابا

حكايتنا غنوها على ربابة

ورواها راوى بأبلغ خطابا

كذب وخداع وتصرفات بمنتهى الغرابة

كان فى حياتى نسيم هوائه هبابا

ورمانى ببروده للنار حطابا

واكتشفت زيفه وغروره بعدما صفقت وراءه البابا

وعرفت اننا لسنا فى دنيا بل هو وحش فى غابة

    ماضرنى ان ولى عنى فما زلت شبابا

وقلبى سوف يسعد بحب جديد حبابا

واملأ دنيا حبيبى بعبق الحب الخرافة

وسيندم هو بعدما يفوت الفواتا

وسأشكر ربى ان خلصنى منه ووهبنى آخر ملاكا

بقلم. 

         هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters... under publication Goodbye **** Goodbye Goodbye to love and youth and feelings balanced with majesty and a love that passed like a cloud as if it were nothing but an illusion and a mirage that contained no tenderness but violence and spears. Our story was sung on a solemn level and narrated by a narrator with the most eloquent speech. Lying, deception, and behavior with the utmost precision. The strangeness in my life was the breeze of his air, and he threw me with his coldness into the fire as a wood, and I discovered his falsity and arrogance after I clapped after him, the Pope, and I knew that we are not in a world, but rather he is a beast in a forest. It would not harm me if he left me, for I am still young, and my heart will be happy with a new love, and fill my beloved’s world with the fragrant scent of superstitious love, and he will regret it after that. The death will pass, and I will thank my Lord if He saved me from it and gave me another angel with a pen. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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      تشرد

     *****

طفل أنا ومما وعيت قالوا متشرد

وصمونى ووصفونى بالتشرد

حياتى كلها حزن وألم لم أفرح او اغرد

وكيف أحكى وماذا أقول ولمن اسرد؟!

ذل وهوان وزمهرير وصقيع وبرد

افترش الأرض بلا غطاء او زرد

ومن زقاق لحارة سباب وطرد

مأساتى مجتمع السبب فيه ام فرد؟!!

والبعض يهزء بى سخرية وهزأ وكأننى قرد

وكأننى لست بشر بل مسخ وقرد

قذارة وسب وتعب وجوع وتشرد

وكأننى فى لعبة الحياة مجرد نرد

ف يالقساوة البشر والمجتمع والأهل

كل ذنبى اننى لم اجد من يرعانى فاصبت بلعنة اسمها متشرد

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى. 

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. Under the publication, Homeless ***** I am a child, and from what I was aware of, they said I am homeless, and they stigmatized me and described me as homeless. My whole life is sadness and pain. I did not rejoice or sing. How do I tell, what do I say, and to whom do I tell it?! Humiliation, humiliation, sweltering, frost and cold spread out on the ground without a cover or blanket, and from alley to alley, cursing and expulsion of my tragedies, is the cause of a community or an individual?!! Some people ridicule me and ridicule me as if I were a monkey, as if I were not human but a monster and a monkey of filth, cursing, fatigue, hunger and homelessness, as if in the game of life I was just a dice. How cruel humans, society and family are. All my fault is that I did not find anyone to take care of me, so I was afflicted with a curse called vagabond. Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi 

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        ذكرى

      *****

جلست اتذكر حبيبى الذى رحل

وترى اين ذهب واين مكانه والمحل؟!!

ترى هل نسانى ام ماذا به حل؟!!

ترى هل هو بخير ام جسده نحل؟!!

ترى هل يراجع نفسه وهل هو خجل؟!!

اتراه قريب أم بعد منى بعد زحل؟

أتراه كان يحبنى ام هو استعراض فحل؟!!

مازالت رؤياه فى عينى كالكحل

أنه مازال مابداخلى

وذكراه تثقل كاهلى

أنه مازال حبيبى وعاهلى

لماذا ذهب وتركنى وبى خلى؟

هل تراه زهدنى وسلا

أم تكبر وشأنه علا؟

أم هناك أخرى أحبها وتناسى كل صلة؟

كل مااعرفه انه نسانى وسلا

وأهلا بحب جديد يعوضنى وهلا

بقلم

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Dhikra ***** I sat remembering my beloved who passed away and do you see where he went and where is his place and the place?!! Do you think he has forgotten me or what is the solution?!! Do you think he is fine or is his body weak?!! Do you think he is reviewing himself and is he ashamed?!! Do you think it is near or far from me after Saturn? Did he love me or was he just showing off a stallion?!! His vision is still in my eyes like kohl. He is still inside me and his memory weighs heavily on me. He is still my lover and my family. Why did he go and leave me alone? Do you see him as an ascetic and innocent person, or are you arrogant and arrogant towards him? Or is there another that I love and forgets every connection? All I know is that he has forgotten me and peace. Welcome to a new love that will compensate me. Written by Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi 

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       عيناه

     *****

الى متى ياقلبى

تحنو اليه وتصبو

وتتذكره كأنه طفل يحبو

مازلت أتذكر عيناه

يالعيناه

قوية جريئة

نفاذة بريئة

عيناه وياويلى من عيناه

مااجملها حين يحتضننى بيمناه

ويتأملنى بعيناه

ف أهوى الى وادى اخضر

فيه ورود ذات عبير تزهر

وافقد توازنى والدنيا بى تدور

ويغلبنى السكون

وتجيش بى الصدور

واتناسى ممشاى وطريقى الى الدور

وتلف بنا الدنيا وتظل تدور

قدماى ثابتتان لكن عقلى يحور

وينساب داخل روحى صفاء

ك صفاء البحور

نظراته سديدة

وحكاياته لدى عديدة

وكل يوم معه يمضى بأمور جديدة

ويمتلكنى بقوة شديدة 

ايا حبيب ملكته قلبى بمنتهى العفوية

والمحبة الاكيدة

احبك انت يابدر البدور

ياقمر فى مدارى يدور

ف الى متى ياقلبى تتهرب من شعور الحب

وتتوارى داخل قوقعة الجب

ف لتترك الهموم والقلق ووهم من العبء

وترجع لتتشبث بيده 

وسأظل متشبثة بيدك ولن اتركك يامن تجعل حياتى فرح وسرور

بقلم..

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication His Eyes ***** How long, my heart, will you long for him and yearn and remember him as if he were a child crawling? I still remember his eyes, oh his eyes, strong, bold, penetrating, innocent. There are fragrant roses that bloom, and I lose my balance, and the world revolves around me, and stillness overwhelms me, and my chest swells, and I forget my walk and my way to the floor, and the world surrounds us and continues to revolve, my feet are steady, but my mind wanders and flows into my soul, as pure as the purity of the seas. His looks are clear, and his stories are many, and every day with him brings new things and possesses me with strength. O beloved, whom my heart has possessed with the utmost spontaneity and unwavering love, I love you, O full moon of the full moon, in my orbit revolving. How long, my heart, will you evade the feeling of love and hide within the shell of the pit, so that you may leave worries and anxieties and an illusion of burden and come back to cling to his hand, and I will remain clinging to your hand and will not leave you, O you who make my life joy and pleasure. Written by .. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamelabi 

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       وأد المواهب

      *********

مارأيكم في بلد لاتحتضن المواهب؟

ولاتؤمن بخبرة مقيم او ذاهب

فلكل بلد طريقة ومذاهب

وهنا مذهبهم طمس وتحطيم المواهب

ولايساعدوا الا ذو ظهر ومال واهب

اما المساكين فليعيشوا في ظلام وغياهب

ولتتحطم مواهبهم وطاقاتهم ويعيشوا ك راهب

يقدسون ويقدرون اصحاب المناصب

اما للدقة والخبرة فلايعجبهم عاجب

قتلوا ودفنوا مواهبنا وجعلوا كل شئ فينا سالب

دينا اوضاعها معكوسة والحظ فيها مقالب

ولن ترضي عنك دنياك وحظك الا اذا كنت ذو مخالب

كل قبسة وومضة أمل اصبحوا ليها ناهب

آه من زمن كله زيف ونوائب

وللواسطة والمحسوبية هم خير وكيل ونائب

تخطيطهم وادارتهم كلها شوائب

اما عن الحق والاخلاص والتذوق فضميرهم غائب

يالبؤس حظنا الذي بالبابنا وعقولنا ذاهب

وماذا نقول؟ وماذا نفعل؟ والي اين نمضي؟ الله غالب

بقلم..

هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called.. The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Valley of Talents ********* What do you think of a country that does not embrace talent? And do not believe in the experience of a resident or a traveler. Every country has its own way and sects. Here their doctrine obliterates and destroys talents. They only help those with backs and generous money. As for the poor, let them live in darkness and obscurity, and let their talents and energies be destroyed. They live like a monk. They sanctify and appreciate those in positions of authority. As for accuracy and experience, they do not like it. They killed and buried our talents and made everything in us negative in religion. Its conditions are reversed, and its luck is pranks, and your world and your luck will not be satisfied with you unless you are with the claws of every sparkle and glimmer of hope. They have become its plunderers. Oh, from a time full of falsity and vices. For mediocrity and nepotism, they are the best agent and deputy. Their planning and management are all impurities, but as for truth, sincerity, and taste, their conscience is absent. Oh, the misery of our luck that is at our door and our minds. Going and what do we say? And what do we do? Where are we going? God is victorious Written by.. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamalabi 

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تحياتى

*****

          قالوا

         ****

قالوا فارسة متمردة

قاصة وشاعرة ساردة

وللشعر فصيحة قارضة

احيانا تبدو شاردة

واحيانا ثائرة واخرى باردة

وللحرف والكلمة طاردة

تبدو احيانا انيقة ك عارضة

واحيانا تبدو رثة ك هاربة

لكنها رغم ذلك فارسة قديرة ماردة

حبها للكلمة غريب

وجمعها للحرف عجيب

حين تكتب شعرا

تظل تفكر فى آخر حروف

وتسلسل كلمات من ذات الحروف

ثم تكتب شئ جميل طروف

ثم بعد ذلك تجلس تتسائل

أانا كتبت هذا؟

كيف ومتى وتظل تتسائل

كيف تقف الكلمات فى خيالها بدون حائل

وكيف تجول فى بالها بسهولة جائل

وتتناسى ان فى بحر الحرف كل شئ زائل

وتجمح وتتروى وتمضى ك جواد صائل

ويضحكون ويقولون ويلك ان الشعر بلا طائل

وليس له كفيل او عائل

وكم كم من قائل

وان الشعراء ليسوا قلائل

وان من يستند عليه فهو حيط مائل

وان من الشعر لكاذب

ك لهو فتى طائش عازب

وان الشعراء يتبعهم الغاوون

ومن كلماتهم كم يتألمون ويعانون

وقالوا ألم ترى انهم فى كل وادى يهيمون

ويقولون ما لايفعلون

قلت وكيف تدركون شعور شاعر

وكم يعانى ويتألم ولايجاهر

وان مايقوله ولايفعله أمنية مكسور شاعر

ويكفى انه انسان زاهد ليس بداعر

كل مايتمناه عالم مثالى ملئ بالمشاعر

هويدا محمدالحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called... The Lover of Letters.. Under publication to/ Publishing House: Long Live Egypt for Creativity. My regards ***** They said **** They said: A rebellious knight, a storyteller and a poet, a storyteller. And poetry has a biting eloquence. Sometimes it seems distracted, sometimes rebellious, and at other times it is cold. And for the letter and the word, it seems repulsive. Sometimes she is elegant, like a model, and sometimes she looks shabby, like a runaway, but despite that, she is a capable and rebellious knight. Her love for the word is strange and her combination of the letters is strange. When she writes poetry, she keeps thinking about the last letters and a sequence of words from the same letters, then she writes something beautiful and funny, and after that she sits and wonders, “Did I write this?” How and when, and she keeps wondering how words stand in her imagination without a barrier, and how they wander in her mind with ease, and she forgets that in the sea of ​​letters, everything is fleeting, and she retreats, slows down, and goes on like a galloping horse, and they laugh and say, Woe to you, that poetry is useless and has no sponsor or sponsor, and how many there are who say it, and that poets are not It is rare, and that whoever leans on it is a slanting wall, and that poetry is a liar, like a fool, a reckless, celibate boy, and that poets are followed by deceitful people, and from their words, how much they suffer and suffer. They said, “Have you not seen that in every valley they wander and say what they do not do?” I said, “How do you understand the feeling of a poet, how much he suffers and suffers, and does not speak out, and that what he says and does not do is a wish.” Broken is a poet, and it is enough that he is an ascetic human being who is not profane. Everything he desires is an ideal world full of feelings. Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamil Abi 

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      ***********

قالت لى فى جلسة ندوة للشعراء

لما تبعثرين كلماتك فى ساحة الغرباء

لما لاتلقينها فى ساحةوطنك واهلك النبلاء؟

قلت ياعزيزتى ان كلماتى لايقدرها سوى الغرباء

ويتجاهلها ابناء وطنى وكأنها تراهات بلهاء

ان حروفى لاتنبت فى وطنى سوى الأشواك

بينما كلماتى بذور تنبت ورودا فى بلاد الغرباء

وكأن كلماتى وقعها فى بلدى كالزبد فى الجفاء

وكأن وطنى كلماتى وقعها غريب واحساسها جفاء

وكأننى فى نظر بلادى لاجئة كلماتى وكأنها من اللقطاء

وظللت اتسائل أهناك عنصرية فى الحروف ايضا ام ان كلماتى عبثا وضاعت فى أرضى هباء

بقلم

هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان كاملابى

Special for my collection called... The Lover of Letters.. under the publication Does the Word Have a Homeland *********** She said to me in a symposium session for poets, when you scatter your words in the courtyard of strangers, why don’t you deliver them in the courtyard of your homeland and your noble family? I said, my dear, that my words are appreciated only by strangers and ignored by my countrymen, as if they were foolish nonsense, that my letters only grow thorns in my homeland, while my words are seeds that grow roses in foreign countries, as if my words struck them in my country like foam in the emptiness, as if my homeland struck a stranger and felt emptiness, as if I were in the eyes of my country a refugee. From the foundlings, and I kept wondering: Is there racism in letters as well, or are my words in vain and wasted on my land in vain? Written by Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Kamlabi 

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       وانطفأت الشموع

       *************

اضئت اصابعى  لكم شموع

وكان جزائى انهار من دموع

زرعت ازهار لكم فى كل الربوع

وصمت عن سواكم وبت فى جوع

وحين اسمع صوتكم يدق قلبى سروعا

وكأن عيناك لقلبى تقتل فى شروع

وقلبى فى هواكم متيم صروع

وحبكم غذاء لروحى صافى رائق

ك حليب ابيض فى ضروع

وكأننى اسير فى هواكم طوع

وقلبى من جفاكم خائف يروع

واخاف ان تهزم ارادتى وأهوى الوقوع

فأخذت اسبح لربى واسجد ركوعا

بأن يخفف عذاب قلبى والولوع

وان تجف من عيناى تلك الدموع

ف مثلك نادر فى الوجود نوعا

وحين يذكر اسمك يخفق قلبى هلوعا

وتركتنى وابتعدت

ويح قلبى فقد انطفأت تلك الشموع

بقلم

هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان كاملابى

Special for my collection called... The Lover of Letters.. under publication. And the candles went out ************* I lit my fingers for you with candles, and my recompense was streams of tears. I planted flowers for you in all quarters, and I remained silent for everyone else, and spent the night in hunger, and when I listened Your voice makes my heart beat rapidly, as if your eyes are for my heart, killing in the beginning, and my heart is in love with your desires, in love with love, and your love is food for my soul, pure and sweet, like white milk in my udders, as if I were willingly walking in your desires, and my heart is afraid of you, terrified, and I fear that my will will be defeated, and I love to fall, so I began to praise my Lord and prostrate myself, kneeling, to ease the torment of my heart. And the longing, even if those tears dry from my eyes, because someone like you is rare in existence, and when your name is mentioned, my heart beats in fear, and you left me and went away, and my heart aches, those candles have been extinguished, by Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Kamlabi 

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      عاشق

     ****

مسافر زاده الخيال

متيم بالعشق ميال

فارس فى العشق خيال

والعشق أصول توارثه من أجيال

لصبية حسناء شعرها ناعم سيال

ولايدرى ماذا يفعل قلبه حيال

متوهم بالعشق يجر بالحزن أذيال

وقصم ظهره بالحزن شيال

خف عقله ك عقل العيال

رغم جسمه كبير بوزن افيال

وفى الحب لا توازن ولا مكيال

وكم سهر بألم الحب ليال

ومشى لايلوى على شئ بأميال

والناس يحسدونه بقولهم نياله

لله در العاشق كم هو شيال

بقلم..

هويدا محمد الحسن عثمان الكاملابى

Special for my collection called... The Lover of Letters.. under publication ***** Lover **** A traveler increased by imagination, in love with love, a knight’s inclination towards love, imagination, and love has its origins passed down from generations to a beautiful girl whose hair is soft and flowing, and he does not know what his heart is doing towards someone who is delusional in love. With sadness, his tails are broken, and his back is broken. With sadness, a scarf whose mind is as light as that of a child, despite his body being as large as the weight of elephants. And in love, there is no balance or measure. How many nights he stayed up in the pain of love, and walked without bending over anything for miles, and people envy him by saying, “May God bless the lover. How much is a scarf?” Written by: Howaida Muhammad Al-Hassan Othman Al-Kamalabi 

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