(11)قصيدة
راجعين يا فلسطين
بقلم
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
------------------------
بيقولوا ضاع الأمل
وتبددت لاحلام
حبل الإخوه إنقطع
وغزه مابتنام
ضرب وقتل وجثث
وناس ماتت بالكوم
بيوت بتتحطم وأراضى
تتهجر وبطون جعانه ياناس
وإخوانا كل العرب
شايفين بدون إحساس
أمريكا ويا الصهاينه
دهسوا العرب بمداس
ونفوسنا متفرقه
سايبين بلد فاضيه
لاصاروخ ولامدفع
ولاقنبله تفرقع
تخوف المستعمر
ونتينياهو الأقرع
يارب بدعيلك أنا
وكتير من ناس
وحد صفوف العرب
حررنا م الانجاس
رجع بلدنا الجميله
غزه ورفح وفلسطين
ورجع الزيتون ويافا
وحيفا وحنين
وارحم شبابنا ونسائنا
وأطفال ونغنى لها راجعين
كتبها الشاعر
محى الدين جمعه طه
11) The poem “We Are Returning, O Palestine” written by the poet Mohi Juma Taha ------------------------ They say that hope is lost and dreams are shattered. The rope of brotherhood has been cut off and Gaza does not sleep. Beatings, killing, corpses and people. She died in Al-Koum, houses are being destroyed, lands are being abandoned, and stomachs are hungry. People and brothers, all the Arabs see without feeling America and the Zionists trampled the Arabs with treads, and our souls are divided, leaving a country. Empty for missiles, cannons, and bombs cracking. The fear of the colonialist and the bald Netanyahu. O Lord, I pray to you. I and many people united the ranks of the Arabs, freeing us from impurity. Our beautiful country, Gaza, Rafah, and Palestine, returned. Olives, Jaffa, Haifa, and Hanin returned. Have mercy on our youth, women, and children, and we sing for them, we will return. Written by the poet Mohieddin Juma Taha.
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(12)قصيدة
فين العيد؟؟
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
بقلم/ الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
سألونى قالوا ياولدى
فين مكان العيد؟؟
قلت حبيبى يا إبنى
مكانه ليس بعيد
دور عليه فى القلب
وإبتسم للناس
تلقى حبايبك كمان
تمد لك إحساس
العيد عيديه وهديه
من كبير الناس
العيد عيديه نقديه
تشخلل بها الأطفال
العيد نظافةالشوارع
والبيت وغسيل لحبال
العيد غنيوه وصقفه
وهيصه من القلب مع طبال
العيد ميعاد ينتظر
من عام مضى لعام جاى
العيد تصالح حبيب
أو جار جه عليه الجار
العيد فى لبس الجديد
وعطور من العطار
العيد فيه فرحه وضحكه
وغنيوه مع مزمار
العيد فى أكله جميله
وفته وحلة محشى مع منبار
العيد فيه فرحة عروسه
بالطبله تملى الدار
العيد نصلى نكبر ونلبس
جديد ونبوس إيد كبير الدار
فى العيد نعلق الزينه
نفرح ونفرح إبن الجار
عرفت فين العيد ؟
أهو موجود لاتدور ولاتحتار
كلمات
الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(12) Poem Where is the Eid?? ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Written by the poet Mohy Jumah Taha,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, They asked me, My son, where is the Eid?? I said, “My beloved son, his place is not far away. Look for him in the heart and smile at the people. You will receive your loved ones as well. It will give you the feeling of Eid. Eid and a gift from the great people. Eid is a cash Eid to keep the children busy. Eid is cleaning the streets and the house and washing the ropes. Eid. Sing, clap, and whisper from the heart with the Eid drummer. A date that has been waiting for a year ago. For the coming year of Eid, a lover or neighbor will reconcile, and the neighbor will come to Eid in new clothes and perfumes from Al-Attar. Eid will be filled with joy. And his laughter and singing with the Eid flute. There is beautiful food, stuffed rolls and rolls with the Eid minbar. There is a bride’s joy with the drum. The house fills the Eid. We pray, we grow old, we wear new clothes, and we kiss the hand of the elder of the house. On Eid, we hang up decorations. We rejoice and rejoice. The neighbor’s son. Did you know where Eid is? He is there. Do not look around or be confused. Words of the poet/ Mohieddin Jumah Taha
♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕(13)من فقرة ... اكمل ياشاعر
كتب
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
ولم ارى فى عيون الناس شيئا
يواسينى ولا أجد التئام
وألم يحتوينى يهز قلبى
يفجر مابى حتى العظام
أئن من جروحى كل ليل
ومن حولى كلهم لئام
وعينى تسيل دمع كل ليل
على من كنت أخدمهم لزام
فعند الله تعبى طوال عمرى
وعند الله يرتد الميزان
وحقى عند ربى لن يضيع
وعند الله تجتمع الخصوم
بقلم
محى الدين جمعه طه
(13) From a paragraph... Continue, poet. The poet Muhyi Jumah Taha wrote,,,,,,,,,,,,, And I did not see in people’s eyes anything that consoled me, and I did not find healing, and pain contained me, shaking my heart, exploding my pain to the bones, and I groaned from my wounds. Every night, everyone around me is mean, and my eyes shed tears every night for those I served. It is necessary. With God, my labor is all my life, and with God, the scales return and my truth. With my Lord, He will not be lost, and with God, adversaries will meet, written by Muhyiddin Jumah Taha
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(14) قصيدة ياعم صبح علينا
بقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
من حبنا حبيناه
وصار متاعنا متاعه
ومن كرهنا كرهناه
يحرم علينا إجتماعه
فيه ناس لا بتعلق
لنا ولا بتنتبه لينا
وعايزه منا نعلق
ومرسله إشاره لينا
ياعم حس وإعرف
إن لكل نفس سلطان
وإعرف بأنى غالى
وتعليقك عندى بيبان
وإن رميتنى فى يوم
طز فيك وإنت إلى خسران
وكل من شافنى وعلق
حبيبى وتعليقه عندى بيبان
يبقى تشغل دماغك
واعرف إن كما تدين تدان
كلمات الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(14) The poem, “Oh uncle, morning is upon us,” written by the poet Mohy Jumah Taha,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, from We loved him, we loved him, and our enjoyment became his enjoyment, and whoever hates us, we hate him, it is forbidden for us to meet him. There are people who do not relate to us or pay attention to us, and want us to comment, and he sent a signal to us, uncle, feel and know that Every soul has power, and know that I am precious, and your comment with me has two meanings, and if you throw me away on a day, it will destroy you, and you are in for a loss, and everyone who sees me and comments, “My beloved,” and his comment with me has two meanings, it will remain occupied with your mind, and I know that as you condemn, you will be condemned. Words of the poet / Muhyiddin Juma Taha
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(15) قالت إحداهن بعفويه
كذب من قال أن الحب يأتى في العمر مره. وربي حين تتلاقى العيون ينبض القلب. ألف مره
فرددت عليها أقول
بقلم
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
**********
هههه. هههه. ههه
يخربيت أم صراحتك
وطلعنا كذابين
بنضحك على بعض
طول السنين
فعلا القلب ينبض
والعين تناجي العين
وإلا ماكنش راجل
إتجوز مره واحده
ولاحب واحده تانيه
ولا جمع بين اتنين
ولا حبينا وكرهنا
وبقينا في إتجاهين
ولا وقفنا في محاكم
وقولنا مقصرين
وسيبنالوا العيال
وأخدنا الشقتين
وبعد ماكنا أسره واحده
أصبحنا أسرتين
بضم صوتي لصوتك
وأنا إسمي محى الدين
لكن الأدب بيغلب
والتربيه والدين
وعشان الدنيا تمشى
وعشره والسنين
بنعدى نظره حلوه
ومعاها إبتسامه
ونقول ياله ياحلوه
خدي سكة السلامه
هوا إلي عملها مره
لسه هايعملها تاني؟
**تبقى خيبه وندامه**
صباحو. أبيض متوسط
تحياتى لشمس
فطومه
كلمات الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(15) One of them said spontaneously that those who say that love comes once in a lifetime are lying. And when eyes meet, the heart beats. A thousand times, I replied to her by saying, written by the poet Mohy Jumah Taha ********** Haha. Hahahaha. Haha, you ruined the mother of your honesty, and we turned out to be liars. We laugh at each other all the years. Indeed, the heart beats and the eye calls to the eye. Otherwise, there would not be a man who got married once and did not love another woman, nor did we combine two people, nor did we love and hate, and we stayed in two directions, nor did we stand in the courts and say we were negligent, and they would take the children. We took the two apartments, and after we were no longer one family. We became two families by adding my voice to yours and my name He erased religion, but literature prevails, education and religion, and as the world goes on and ten years go by, we pass by a beautiful look with a smile and say, oh, how beautiful, take the safety wheel. Whoever did it once will still do it again? **It remains a disappointment and regret** Good morning. White Medium Greetings to Shams Fattouma. Words of the poet/ Mohy El-Din Gomaa Taha
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(16)بمناسبة عيد المرأة اهدى هذه القصيده لكل بنات حواء الناطقة بالعربية امهات اخوات وزميلات فأنتن بناتنا وشقيقاتنا.. وأنتن النصف الجميل للدنيا ..نيابة عن كل الرجال نتمنى لكن السعادة
من أجمل ماكتبت
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
(سيدتــــــــــى حـــــــواء )
كتبت
بقلم/ الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
يازهرة العمر وقرة العين
ونبض القلوب
ياشعلة الحياة ونور
العقول وسكينة البيوت
يارحمة مهداة من رب العباد
ياتغريدة الطيور
( أنتى حكاية كل الذكور) وأنتى فكرة فى رأس
الشباب والرجال تدور
فكر فيكى الدكتـــــور
والمعلم وعربجى الحنطور
لكى فى القلوب مكانه
من عهد آدم وفى كل العصور
كتب عنكى الشعراء
ودونوا فيكى الســطور
حتى أنا لم تسلمى من قلمى
وأنا فى سن الزهور
أنتى من ومن تكونى؟
إنتى فاطمه؟ولا هند؟
ولاراجوه ولابدر البدور؟
كونى من تكونى
فأنتى من يدق لها القلب
والفكر والدماغ يدور
كلنا يبغاكى يحبك
مع تفاوت الفكر والمنظور
فهذا يحب فيكى والآخريحب
الوجه وذاك يغنى للشعور
وهذا يغنى للقد وآخر يكتب
عن العقد الذى فى الصدور
فصلوا فيكى الحكاوى
ورسموكى بالريشه والمنظور
والآن هلاعرفتى قيمتك عندي
ياأمى وأختى وأنشودة العصور
وهل فكرتى يوما فيمن
سطروا فيكى السطــــور
بقلم
الشاعر والإعلامى
( د/ محى الدين جمعه طه ) يشرفنى تعليقكم كل هوات الشعر والأدب 01005313179 -----01277166159
(16) On the occasion of Women’s Day, I dedicate this poem to all the Arabic-speaking daughters of Eve, mothers, sisters and colleagues. You are our daughters and sisters.. and you are the beautiful half of the world. On behalf of all men, we wish, but happiness is one of the most beautiful things written.,,,,,,,,,,, ،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،(My Lady Eve) Mohi Juma Taha,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, O flower of life, apple of the eye, and the pulse of hearts, O flame Life, the light of minds, and the tranquility of homes, O mercy, gifted by the Lord of servants, O song of birds (You are the story of all males), and you are an idea in the heads of young men and women, thinking about you, the doctor and the teacher. And my carriage, the stagecoach, has its place in the hearts since the time of Adam, and in all ages, poets wrote about you and wrote lines about you, even you did not escape from my pen when I was at a young age. Who are you and who are you? Are you Fatima or Hind? And neither Rajoh nor Badr Al-Badur? Be who you are, for you are the one for whom the heart beats and the mind and the brain spin. We all desire you and love you despite the difference in thought and perspective. This one loves you, and the other loves the face, and that one sings for the feeling, and this one sings for the destiny, and another writes about the knots in the chests. They separated the stories in you and drew you with the brush and perspective. And now will you know your value to me, my mother, my sister, and the song of the ages? Have you ever thought about those who wrote about you? The lines are written by the poet and journalist (Dr. Mohi El-Din Gomaa Taha). I am honored by your comment. All passions of poetry and literature 01005313179 -----01277166159
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(17)اغنية... لغة العيون
*********
كلمات
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
**********
نص الكلام أنا قلته..
والباقى ماقلتوش
وصل الكلام لحبيبى..
بطريق ماتعرفوهوش
نظره ولمسة بإيدى.
غيرنا مايفهمهوش
سكت اللسان وكلامى..
كله ماكملتوش
لما لقيت حبيبتى .. ...
مركزه الرموش
وكلام الحب كله..
وصل وماقلتوش
ووصلنى من حبيبتى
كلام ماقلتهوش
نظرة حبيبتى كتاب
غيرنا ماقريهوش
نص الكلام أنا قلته
والباقى ماقلتوش
كتبها..
محى الدين جمعه طه
(17) Song... The Language of the Eyes ********* Words by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha ********** Half of the words I said.. and the rest you did not say The words reached my beloved.. in a way that you do not know by a look or a touch With my hands. Others do not understand it. The tongue was silent and all of my words were not finished. When I met my beloved.. ... the focus of the eyelashes and all the words of love.. arrived and what you did not say. And I received from my beloved words that you did not say. Look at my beloved, a book other than us did not read. Half of the words I said and the rest you did not say. She wrote them.. Mohiuddin Juma Taha
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( 18) أغنية
((زكرى العاشر من رمضان))
كلمات
د / الشاعر محى جمعه طه
؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛
فى زكرى العاشر من رمضان
يالله نزغرت زغروته كمان
لاولاد جيشنا رجاله جدعان
هزموا الصهيون فى رمضان
رجاله وحوش عبروا القنال
ضربوا بارليف بالمايه كمان
فست ساعت هزموا الأحلام
طيران يضرب.مدفع ونبال
عاشوا جنودنا عبروا الشطآن
فرحه عمت كل الاوطان
ذكرى جميله عشره رمضان
هزموا الاعداء قتلوا الصبيان
خلوهم داؤا المر كمان
ماتوا رجالهم جابوا النسوان
زكرى جميله لجنودنا كمان
اليوم العاشر من رمضان
الله يرحم صاحب القرار
ولمن ماتوا جنة وغفران
تركوا زكرى لكل الاوطان
المصرى اسد فى كل زمان
كتبها
د / محى الدين جمعه طه
؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛؛
فى الأحد 2022/04/10
الموافق 10 رمضان
(18) The song ((Zikri the Tenth of Ramadan)) Lyrics by Dr. Poet Mohy Gomaa Taha ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; ;;;;;;;;; On the anniversary of the tenth of Ramadan, oh God, I shouted a violin for the children of our army. Brave men defeated the Zionists. In Ramadan, men and monsters crossed the canal. They hit Bar-Lev with water. Also, for six hours, they defeated dreams. Air strikes. Cannons and arrows. They lived. Our soldiers crossed the coast. Joy spread across all nations. A beautiful memory. The tenth of Ramadan. They defeated the enemies. They killed the boys. Leave them alone They also brought bitterness. Their men died. They brought the women. A beautiful memory for our soldiers as well. The tenth day of Ramadan. May God have mercy on the decision maker. And for those who died, Paradise and forgiveness. They left a memory for all the homelands. The Egyptian is a lion for all times. Written by Dr. Mohi El-Din Jumah Taha ;;;;;;;;;;; ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; On Sunday 04/10/2022, corresponding to Ramadan 10
♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕(19)موال
طول عمري راجل
*************
كلمات/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
***********
طول عمرى راجل
وبتعايق بشبابى ورجولتى
أصل الرجوله فعل
مش إسم إنكتب فى شهادتى
لو شفت ظالم بيظلم ناس
دمى عليه بيغلي
ولو رأيت شايب محتاج
مساعده عليه أوام أجري
طبع الرجوله كده
مش منتظر من حد آخد أجري
ياميت خساره على شباب
نسي رجولته وبقى مثلى
إذاى ياراجل تسيب عز الرجوله
وتتحول شاذ ومثلي
أنا طبعي راجل فى المشى والفعل
حتى في السرير وفي نومتي
مابنمش ابدا ياصاحبى
زي الشواز على بطنى
ونومتي دايما زي ماقال
سيدنا النبى باليمين على جنى
وبشتغل وأعرق واجيب القرش
الحلال واحافظ على شرف أهلي
أصل الرجوله شرف وفعل
مش كلمه تتكتب في شهادتي
كلمات الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(19) Mawal, all my life is a man ************* Words/the poet Mohi Jumah Taha *********** All my life is a man, and I am hindered by my youth and my manhood. The origin of manhood is a verb, not a noun, written in My testimony is that if I see an oppressor oppressing people, my blood boils over him, and if I see an old man in need of help, I will do this to him. I do not expect anyone to take my reward. I wish it would be a loss to a young man who has forgotten his manhood. And it remains like me, man, if you abandon the pride of manhood and turn gay, and like me, I am by nature a man in walking and in actions, even in bed, and in my sleep I never sleep, my friend, like a shoe on my stomach, and I always sleep, as our Prophet, the Prophet, said, with an oath on a genie, and I work and sweat, and I get the lawful shark and preserve the honor of my family. The origin of manhood is honor and action. Not a word can be written in my testimony, the words of the poet/ Mohi El-Din Friday Taha
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(20) قصيدة
دنيا المدينه
**********
كلمات
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
****************
لما بنروح المدينه
نلقى فيها حاجات غريبه
نلقى فيها ناس جميله
وفيها ناس بتوع أونطه
تلقى فيها كل حاجه
الهياكل والدجاج والأوانص
وفيها ناس بتوع مجانص
تلقى فيها عيشه غاليه
والدخول برده عاليه
تلقى فيها قصر عالي
وفيها بدروم معدوم للغوالي
تلقى فيها بيربى كلب ولا قطه
فيها ناس بتلغ أكل لما جالهم الزغطه
فيها ناس مش لاقيه تاكل الزباله
أصل تاجرهم خلاص ماعد بيشكك البقاله
دنيا فوق ودنيا تحت كله عايش
حتى في ولاد المدارس
فيه ولاد بيروحوا حافيه
وناس كتير في دنيا دافيه
أما فى الريف عيشه هاديه
خالتي فاطمه وخالتي ناديه
مش براعوا الزخارف والرفاهه
دول بيشوفوا إن دا كله تفاهه
المهم إن ناكل ونعيش مستورين
إلوفاء والود بينهم والحنين
لما بيدخل لبيتهم الحصيله
برده بيراعوا الجيران وكأنه عيله
خد ياولد ودى لجيرانه
خد شكارة الرز ديه وديهالهم على أدحالنا
جاره يدعيله ويلعب عياله مع عيالنه
فيه تكافل إجتماعى بين جيرانه
دا بصراحه فرق باين فى المعيشه
بين حياة الريف وحياة المدينه
كلمات
محى الدين جمعه طه
(20) The poem “The World of the City” ********** Words by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha **************** When we go to the city, we find strange things in it, we meet beautiful people in it, and there are people in it. There is a place where you can find everything you need - skeletons, chickens, and pots, and there are people in it. You can find bars in which you can make an expensive living. Entering a high courtyard, you will find a high palace, and there is an empty basement for the precious ones. You will find people raising a dog or a cat in it. You eat food when there is a hiccup. There are people who cannot find themselves eating the garbage. The origin of their merchant is over. He no longer doubts the grocery store. The world is above and the world is below. He lives even in school children. There are children who go barefoot and many people live in a warm world. As for the countryside, it is a quiet life. My aunt Fatima and my aunt Nadia are not good at decorations and luxury. They see that this is all nonsense. The important thing is that we eat and live hidden Loyalty and friendliness between them and nostalgia when he enters their home takes the toll. They also consider the neighbors as if he were his family. Take a boy and be friendly to his neighbors. Take this rice cake and give them to us. A neighbor supports him and his children play with his children. There is social solidarity between his neighbors. Frankly speaking, there is a clear difference in living between rural life and city life. Words by Mohiuddin Jumaa Taha
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(21)قصيدة
يا إمرأة أنت ملهمتى
**********
كتبت بقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
************
ياإمرأة غاصت فى قلبى
وتذوب بفكرى ووجدانى
إنى أحببتك من قلبى
ووهبتك عمرى وحنانى
إنى خيرتك فإختارى
مابين وجودك فى عقلى
أو بين ضلوعى وأحضانى
فالعيش بدونك يؤلمنى
دنيايا مرار وأحزانٍ
ونوائب دهرٍ تعصف بى
إن مر بخلدك نسيانى
إنى أحببتك من قلبى
ووهبتك عمرى وحنانى
أتراكى أنت ملهمتى
فقصائد قلبى أشجانى
تنساب كجدول رقراق
فى سكون الليل لعشاق
والعين بعين معلقة
وقلوب تعزف ألحان
أنت دنياى وآخرتى
وربوع الفكر وبستانى
فمرار الدنيا تحليه
وذنوبى كلها غفرانٍ
أنفاسك تقرع فى صدرى
كطبول العرس وأنغام
هل بعد ذلك لى طلب
من رب ألف قلبان ؟
فسعيد الدنيا من وجد
إمرأةُ تسقيه حنان
أموال الدنيا لاتزن
مخلوقة بأدب وإيمانٍ
الزوج لديها هو السكن
وتقيم صلاة وصيام
إنى خيرتك فاختارى
مابين وجودك فى عقلى
أو بين ضلوعى وأحضانى
********
كتبها
الأديب الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(21) A poem, “Oh Woman, You Are My Inspiration” ********** Written by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha ************ “Oh Woman, you have sunk into my heart and dissolved in my thoughts and feelings. I loved you from my heart and gave you my life.” And my compassion, I chose you, so choose between your presence in my mind or between my ribs and my arms. Living without you hurts me. My world is bitter and sad and the calamities of an eternity are storming. If I pass through your mind, you will forget me. I loved you from my heart and gave you my life and my tenderness. You are my inspiration. The poems of my heart are my sorrows. They flow like a sparkling stream in the stillness of the night for lovers. And the eye is with a fixed eye and hearts play melodies. You are my world and my hereafter and the quarters of thought and my garden. For the bitterness of the world is my sweetness and all my sins are forgiveness. Your breath beats in my chest like wedding drums and melodies. After that, may I ask the Lord of a thousand? Two hearts? The happy person in this world is the one who finds a woman who gives him water with the tenderness of the world’s wealth. She does not commit adultery. She is created with good manners and faith. Her husband is the dwelling place. She performs prayer and fasting. I have chosen you, so choose between your presence in my mind or between my ribs and my arms.
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(22) شهادة تقدير من الاتحاد الدولي للمبدعين العرب عن قصيدتى
"(إذكرينى)" فشكرا لهم
قصيدة :....
إذكرينى
***********
كلمات..وقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه *********************
إذكرينى
لو لاحت غيوم الحزن يوما
أوقست عليك الدنيا دوما
لو رأيت عيون تراقبك كالذئاب
إذكرى شخصا أحبك وفى هواك القلب داب
إذكرى القلب الى حبك كان فاتح قلبه كتاب
إذكرينى
إذكرى يارفيقة الدرب كل خطوه مشينا فيها
لينا بصمه أو علامه أو حكايه حكينا منها ولسه فيها
إذكرينى
اذكرينى كل لحظه ياحبيبتى أو دقيقه دا انت كنتى
كل حاجه جميله ليا من بداية حبنا لحظة ماكنتى
لسه عامله ضفيره حلوه والقميص لسه مشجر
والحياه بالنسبه ليكى لعبه حلوه مش مهم ريف او حتى بندر
إذكرينى
لما كنت ماشى وراكى يومها بعت كل غالى
أصلك إنتى العروسه إلى كنت راسمها فى خيالى
وإنتظرت لما تكبرى ورحت لابوكى
قلت عمى..
ليا عنديكم طلب غالى بس باتمنى تلبى
قالى قول ياله ياإبنى
قولتله نفسى أناسبك فى الحليوه إلى شاغلنى
قالى عارف والله يابنى
إنك ابن حلال مصفى
يومها باركلى ووصانى عليكى
من يوميها . حافظ العهد الى كان بينى وبينه
صاين العشره وكنتى فى عيونى وجوه قلبى
إذكرينى
يوم مماتى وبعد ماأسيبك واترك الدنيا وألبى
دعوة الله وأسكن الارض وقبرى
منتظر دعوة حبيبة بنت ناس كانت غاليه عندى
كلمات
الشاعر الأديب/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(22) Certificate of Appreciation from the International Union of Arab Creators for my poem “(Remember Me)” So thank you to them Poem:.... Remember Me *********** Words..and written by the poet Mohi Juma Taha **** ***************** Remember me, if the clouds of sadness ever appeared, and the world was always cruel to you, if you saw eyes watching you like wolves, remember someone who loved you, and in your desire the heart wandered. Remember the heart to love you, whose heart was open to a book. Remember me, remember, my friend. The path, every step we walked, we have a fingerprint, a mark, or a story we told, and there is still it. Remember me. Remember me. Every moment, my love, or a minute. You were everything beautiful to me from the beginning of our love. The moment you were still making a beautiful braid, and the shirt was still wooded, and life for you is a sweet game. It doesn’t matter what countryside or countryside it is. Even Bandar, remind me when I was walking behind you that day, I sold everything Your origin is precious. You are the bride I had drawn in my imagination. I waited for when you grew up and went to see your father. I said, “My uncle.. I have a dear request for you, but I hope you will fulfill it.” He said, “Oh, my son.” I told him, “I wish I could match you in beauty to my concern.” He said, “I know, by God, my son, that you are a lawful and refined son. That day, he blessed me and protected me from the next two days.” . The one who kept the covenant between me and him was the keeper of the ten and you were in my eyes and the faces of my heart. Remember me on the day I die and after I leave you and leave the world and respond to God’s call and dwell on the earth and my grave awaits the call of Habiba, daughter of Nas, who was dear to me. Words of the poet and writer / Muhyiddin Juma Taha
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(23)قصيدة المراة نصف المجتمع
**********
بقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
**********
المرأه نصف المجتمع
بل قد تكون المجتمع
هلا وجدت رجلا عظيما
برز وظهر وبدون إمرأة لمع؟
هى الأمومة والحنان
وهي رفيقة الزمان
وهي الأمل وهى الامان
وبدونها يوجد خلل لا إتزان
فهي الحبيبة والطبيبه
وهى في الغناء مغرده
وفى العياء طبيبة
قلب حنون وممرضه
هي من ستبكى وقت موتى
وتدعو ربى منحبه
هي وقت جد والنزال
سند وزند للرجال
🌹أرأيت ستنا العظيمة الخنساء🌹
والله ماندبت ندم عليهم
ولا قالت في أبنائها الا رثاء
🌹المرأة كل الََمجتمع اسمع كلام🌹
هي راعية فى البيت
والانعام والاغنام
وبدونها لايحلو السهر
ولايحلو فى البيت الطعام
المرأة فى إمكانها
تشعل الدنيا حروب
أرأيت دور شجرة
الدر ونفرتيتى وجلنار
قادت حروب مع
الفرنجة حتى الانتصار
هزمت جنود فرنسا
جعلت مراكبهم دمار
أسرت رئيسهم لويس
وإفتدوه بمليونى دولار
قادت شباب مصر
وأججت بالماء نار
🌹💔المرأة كل المجتمع💔
هى الطبيبة والحبيبة
هي عالمة البحار
وفى زمان الجهل
كانوا يقتلوها يحسبوها عار
🌹المرأة كل المجتمع🌹
زرعت وربت الدجاج🐓
طبخت ومسحت الزجاج
سهرت واعطتنا العلاج
حاكت ملابسنا صغارا وشباب
. 🐪ياللعزاب🐪.
من يحتمل هذا العذاب
الذى لايسعه كتاب؟؟.
❤️الا الحبيبة🤎
فتحية للمرأة منى
ومن كل الرجال والشباب
كتبها الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(23) The poem “The Woman is Half of Society” ********** Written by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha ********** The woman is half of the society, and she may even be the society. Would you find a great man who rose and appeared without a woman who shined? She is motherhood and tenderness, she is the companion of time, she is hope, she is security, and without her there is an imbalance, she is the lover and the doctor, she is the lover and the doctor, she is singing in singing and in mourning, a compassionate heart doctor and nurse, she is the one who will cry at the time of my death and pray to my Lord, who loves her, she is a hard time, and fighting is a support and a forearm for men. Have you seen our great lady, the Khansa, and by God, she does not mourn with remorse. On them, she did not say anything about her children except the woman’s lamentations. All of society listened to what she said A shepherdess in the house and the livestock and sheep, and without her, it is not pleasant to stay up late and it is not pleasant to eat in the house. A woman has the ability to ignite wars in the world. Have you seen the role of the elder tree, Nefertiti and Gulnar? She led wars with the Franks until victory. She defeated the French soldiers and destroyed their boats. She captured their president, Louis, and ransomed him with two million dollars. She led the youth of Egypt and fanned the fire of women with water. The society is the doctor, and the beloved is the marine scientist, and in the time of ignorance, they used to kill her, thinking that she was wrong The woman disgraced all of society. She planted and raised chickens. She cooked and wiped the windows. She stayed up and gave us treatment. She knitted our clothes, young and young. Hey single people. Who can bear this torment that no book can contain? Except the beloved? A greeting to women, from me, and to all men and youth, written by the poet/Muhyiddin Jumah Taha
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(24)مسابقة بوح الصورة(( القصيده مستوحاه من قصه حقيقيه لشخص ماتت امه بعدما سافرت يوم عيد تزور اختها المريضه فماتت هي الأول وكان عمره صغير))
وتاليف قصيدة بعنوان
((قصة.. يتيم ))
بقلم /
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
****************
الدنيا كانت حلوه
ونسيمها كله ربيع
ابويا وامى معايا
وذاكرت سين تربيع
العب والخبط ملابسى
وكأنى واد سريح
ماشلت هم الغسيل
ولاحد قال ياقبيح
وفى يوم صباح العيد
والدنيا زى الفل
لبست لبسى الجميل
صبحت على الكل
أمى الحبيبه ماشيه
راحا فين ياست الكل؟
هزور حبيبتى واجيبلك
معايا لعبه وفل
راحت حبيبتى وياريتها
ماسبتنى ست الكل
الدنيا راحت معاكى ياما
وحياتى كلها زل
لاحضن أمى باشوفه
ولاحنان من حد
الضحكه منى إنطفت
وحياتى قلبت جد
حسيت بأنى وحيد
مالى قريب ولاحد
والحزن ساكن فى قلبى
والدمع مالى الخد
يادنيا حلمك علينا
حنى على الأيتام
خلينى اضحك تانى
خلينى أعرف انام
الدمع دبل جفونى
وأحلامى بها أوهام
آه ياما فينك ياأمى
ولا يوم من إلأيام
يارب متع حبيبتى
بالجنة..وزيدها بالإنعام
*** حال اليتيم ****
كتبها وأعدها
الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(24) Picture reveal competition ((The poem is inspired by a true story of a person whose mother died after she traveled on Eid day to visit her sick sister, so she died the first time when he was young)) and the composition of a poem entitled ((The Story of.. an Orphan)) written by the poet Mohy Jumah Taha ** ************** The world was sweet and its breeze was all spring. My father and mother were with me, and I remembered the squareness of playing and banging my clothes as if I were a free valley, and I had no worries. Washing and no one said, “Oh ugly.” And on the morning of Eid and the world was as good as it was, I put on my beautiful clothes and woke up to everyone. My beloved mother was walking. Where did she go, everyone? I will visit my beloved and bring you a game of waffles. My beloved has gone and I wish she did not leave me alone. The whole world has gone with you, one day, and my whole life has slipped away to hug my mother when I see it. The tenderness from the point of laughter from me has gone out, and my life has become very upside down. I feel that I am alone, my money is close to no one, and sadness resides in my heart, and tears are on my cheeks, oh world, your dream is upon us, yearning for the orphans. Let me laugh again, let me know how to sleep Tears are streaming down my eyelids, and my dreams are illusions. Oh, mother, where are you, mother? Not even one day. O Lord, grant my beloved Paradise..and increase her with cattle. *** The condition of the orphan **** Written and prepared by the poet / Muhyiddin Juma Taha
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(25) قصيدة / بـــراءة الأطفــــال
---------------------
كلمـــــات /
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
****************
ما أجمـلــك ذكـريـــــــــــات الطفــولــــه
فيــــكى البــــراء والـوفـاء والـبـطـولــــه
فــيـكى الخيـــــال عشـــــــق المـحـــــال
وكـــــــــل شـــــــئ فـــيــكى حــــــلال
لــوحـتـى قـبــلـه مــن كـبـيـر أو صغيـر
الكـل بـيعـبـر بـجد عن البراءة والجمال
لو بنـت عـم أوبـنت خـال أوحـتى جــاره
أهـو كلـه بـيــعبـر بـحضن أوحتى بوسـه
اصـــــل الــطـفــــــولـــــه دى الــبـراءه
ولا أى حاجه ولا أى حــد بيفكر شـمــال
حــتـى الـى فــى دمــاغــكــ يــاخــــــال
تـعـبـيـره عـندى حكايه حلـوه من الجمال
فاكـر عليـا لـمـا شـافتـنى بـنـت الجيـران
حـلـو وجـميـل وواد مـأطـأط أيــام زمـان
قامت قـالـتلى بـتعمـل ايـه يابـن الجيــران ؟
قـلتلـها والـلـه ما بعمل حاجه يا إسمك إيه
لإنــى وحــدى أعــمــل إيـــــه ؟
قـالـتـلى يـالـه نــلـعـب يـاواد ***
نــعمل حبايب.. ايوه نعـمـل حبايب
ولا.. تــقـدر تـعـمـل عـريـــــس ؟
تـقـدر تجيـبلـى ورده حـمره وتـعـطـيـهالـى ؟
تـلبـس وتـيـجـى هنا جنبــى زى الـعريــس
مـاكان بـيـعمـل لــلعـروســـه وتعطيـهــالـى
قولـتلـها اقـدر ابـقى عـنـتـر وانـتى عـبـله .
بصيـت لقـيـت الحى كلـه ماسكلـى طبـلــه
وكلــه بــيـغنـى يقــول بـأعلـــى صــــــوت
ياعريـــس ياصغير علقه تفوت ولاحديموت
لـقيـت عـيـال كـتير بـيسقـفـولى ويضربونى
لقـيـت ابوهـا جـاى يجـرى وقـام شـايـلـنــى
وقــــالــى روح لابــــوك يالــــــه يا إبــنــى
دا إنـت لسـه صغيـر وضحكلى وشد ودنى
بـــقلـــــم/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(25) Poem / The Innocence of Children --------------------- Words / Poet Mohy Jumah Taha **************** How beautiful are your childhood memories. In you there is innocence, loyalty and heroism. In you there is imagination, a love of the impossible. And everything about you is permissible, even your kiss, whether big or small. Everyone expresses innocence and beauty seriously. If you are a cousin, a cousin, or even a neighbor, he expresses it all with a hug or even a kiss. The origin of this childhood is innocence and nothing and no one who thinks north, even what is in your brain, oh my expression, I have a sweet story of beauty. Remember me when the neighbor girl saw me? Sweet and beautiful and a rubber valley. In the old days, she came up and said to me, “What are you doing, son of the neighbours?” I told her, by God, I don't do anything, what's your name, because I'm alone, what do I do? She said to me, "Let's play, boy. We'll make lovers. Yes, we'll make lovers. Can't you make a groom?" Can you get me a red rose and give it to me? You get dressed and come here next to me like the groom would do to the bride and give it to me. I told her, “I can stay with Antar and you with Abla.” I looked and found the whole neighborhood holding a drum and everyone was singing, saying in the loudest voice, “You groom, little one! A leech is gone and no one is dying.” I found many children covering me and beating me. I found their father coming running and getting up. He took me away and said, “Go to your father, oh my son, you are still young.” He laughed at me and pulled me down. Written by: Mohi El-Din Juma Taha
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(26)إرتجال وعزف القوافى .... (بالعاميه)
***********
وقصيدة :-
(عينى ياعينى على الفلاح)
--------------------------
كلمات وبقلم
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
*******************
ردا على عمنا المرحوم الشاعر /عبد الرحمن الأبنودى فى قصيدة
(فلاح فى زمن راح)
****************
عينى ياعينى على الفلاح
زمنه جميل أهو ولى وراح
بص لعيشته ياعينى عليه
عمره مابات فى يوم مرتاح
يسهر يتعب حوالين ارضه
دايما كان يوزنها بعرضه
عمره مايوم كان فرط فيها
دى بصراحه وصية والده
عينى عليك عمى الفلاح
زمنك صعب عدى وراح
بتعة إيدك مش هنساها
ولا هنسالك أى جراح
عمرى ماشفتك يوم متهنى
من اوجاعك كنت تغنى
عال مزمار او وانت بتجنى
محصول ارضك اخر العام
دايما جيبك بيكون فاضى
حتى إذا روحت عندالقاضى
طول العام بتبادل الناس
يوم تشتغل عنده بفاس
يبقى عنده مش ببلاش
هينعهولك عنده فى يوم
تزرع ارضك خس وتوم
عزك دايما كان فى بهيمتك
تحلب منها وتحرث ارضك
زمنك دا كان صعب ياعم
عيشت حياتك هم وغم
لافى علاج ولا حتى طبيب
شغلك حتى الشمس تغيب
ولاتروسيكل ولاسياره
اخرك جحشه او حتى حماره
ولا تليفون ولاتلفاز
تسمع بس حكاوى الناس
ولاكهربا ولا بتوجاز
كل إضاءتك لمبة جاز
وسريرك كان قوضة الفرن
والتكييف تقعد فى الجرن
ودولابك حتة صندوق
متواضع مش عالى لفوق
زى دولابنا قليل الزوق
الله يرحم أهل زمان
ويعوضهم عالأحزان
داؤا المر ياعينى عليهم
ربى إرحمهم وتراضيهم
عاشوا حياتهم عيشه كفاف
عمى عاشور مع خالتى عفاف
كانوا بياكلوا المش بدوده
ندعى يارب ما عدت تعوده
واجعل ربى عيشتنا هنيه
فرح أهلى وخالتى بهيه
وإرحم أهالينا إلى ماتوا
ولاشافوا تورته وجاتوهاتو
شعر وارتجال
****************
الشاعر/
محى الدين جمعه طه
(26) Improvising and playing rhymes.... (colloquially) *********** And a poem:- (My eyes, my eyes, on the farmer) ----------------- --------- Words and written by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha ******************* In response to our late uncle, the poet / Abdul Rahman Al-Abnoudi, in the poem (A Farmer in a Gone Time) **************** My eyes, my eyes, are on the farmer. His time was beautiful. He has passed away and has gone to look at his life. My eyes are on him, his life has passed away. A comfortable day, staying up late and toiling around his land. He was always weighing it with his offering. He had never neglected it. Honestly, this is his father’s will. My eyes are on you. My uncle, the farmer. Your time is hard. Come and go. I will never forget it, nor will we ask you for any wounds. I have never seen you on a day relieved of your pains. You were singing on a flute or while you were reaping the harvest of your land. At the end of the year, your pocket is always empty even when you go At the judge's house, you exchange people all year long. When you work for him with an ax, it stays with him, and it's not free. He'll give it to you. One day you plant lettuce on your land, and your pride was always with your animal. You milked it and plowed your land. This time was difficult, uncle. You lived your life with anxiety and grief. There was no cure, not even a doctor. You worked until the sun went down, and there was no motorcycle or car. The last of you is a colt or even a donkey, and there is no telephone or television. You only hear people's stories There is no electricity or a stove, all your lighting is a gas lamp, and your bed was like a stove and air conditioner. You sit in the oven, and your closet is even a modest box, not as high as our closet, which is low on taste. May God have mercy on the people of the past and compensate them for their sorrows. They suffered bitterness, my eyes, on them. May God have mercy on them and make peace with them. They lived their lives as a subsistence life. My uncle Ashour and my aunt Afaf used to eat. We don't want a worm, we pray, Lord, you won't get used to it anymore May my Lord make our life a happy one, make my family and my aunt happy, and have mercy on our families who died and did not see his tarts and cakes. Poetry and improvisation **************** Poet/ Mohi El-Din Juma Taha
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(27)قصيدة
سلام للشهيد
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
كلمات وقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
شهيدنا قالوا إتقتل
بالغدر م الأنجاس
من غير سبب نفذوا.
وقتلوا الحراس
هاتلى سبب تقتله
لو عندك الإحساس
دا جندى واقف حراسه.
مابيعتدى عالناس
ممكن يكون إبنتنا
أو جارنا ماتنساش
يدفع ضريبة وطن
لا أجره ولانتاش
مسكين ولسه صغير
بيحب كل الناس
ولامد إيده فى جيبك
شغال من ابو بلاش
هاتلى سبب تقتله
لو عندك الإحساس
مليون سلام ياشهيد
هندق لك أجراس
صوت المساجد دعالك
والشيخ وكل الناس
معلش حقك علينا
دول حبه م الأوباش
أو ماجورين والله
إرتاح ياسيد الناس
ربك كتبلك شهاده
غيرك ماحصلهاش
والى أذاك ربنا
هيحاسبه ماتنساش
يوم القصاص مش بعيد
حقك هايرجعلك
والمؤذى دا فى جهنم
أما انت فى الإنعام
وملايكة الرحمن
دايره.تقول أنغام
تسبيح وحمد .ترحب
ياله إدخلوا بسلام
كتبها
د/ محى الدين جمعه طه
(27) A poem of peace by the martyr, ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Our martyr, they said, “You shall be killed by treachery and impurity without any reason?” they executed. They killed the guards. Give me a reason to kill him. If you have the feeling, this is a soldier standing guard. He doesn't assault people. He might be our daughter or our neighbor. Don't forget to pay the national tax, not his wages. He's poor and he's still young. He loves all people. He doesn't put his hand in your pocket. He's working. Don't give me a reason to kill him. If you have the feeling, a million peace, martyr. We're ringing for you. The bells of the mosques are praying for you. The Sheikh and all the people. Sorry, you have the right over us. He is neither a bastard nor a mercenary. I swear to God, rest easy, O Master of people, your Lord has written for you the testimony of others It didn't happen, and whoever harmed you, God will hold him accountable. Don't forget the Day of Retribution, it's not far away. Your right will return to you, and this harm is in Hell. As for you, you are in the cattle, and the angels of the Most Merciful are around. Melodies of praise and praise say. Welcome, O God, enter in peace. Written by Dr. Mohiuddin Juma Taha
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(28)قصيدة
يالى خيالك فى بالى
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
كلمات
د/ الشاعر محى جمعه طه
،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،،
يالى خيالك فى بالى........ مش عارف فين اراضيكى
صورتك دى ساكنه ببالى .....غضبانه قولى اراضيكى
لاجلك هاشد رحالى ............وبكل وسعى اناجيكى
مش عارف أنا ايه جرالى.. ...من يوم مافكرت فيكى
حيرت اهلى وناسى... ......... مش قادر حد يلاقيكى
قالولى إرسم ياغالى................ رسمه توصلنا لخطاكى
مسكت الريشه ورسمت. جت أجمل أنثى فى خيالى
قالولى صعب ياغالى............. تلقاها د ا الوصف عالى
ربك بيوزع جماله .............. على كل خلقه بتساوى
والبنت إلى انت حاببها ......... ممنوعه من كل وادى
هتدور عنها فى مساجد........... أو حتى إن كان نوادى
صلى ياعم إستخاره............ ربك هايجيبها فى ثوانى
سيبك م الريشه ياصاحبى...........وقول يارب ياهادى
بقلم الشاعر
د/ محى الدين جمعه طه
(28) The poem “Yali, your imagination is on my mind” .., You live on my mind...angry. Tell me your lands for your sake. I will go away...and with all my effort to save you. I don't know what I am.. ...from the day I thought about you, you confused my family and my people... ....... I can't find anyone to meet you. They told me to draw, my dear................. A drawing that has come to your conclusion. I took the brush and drew. The most beautiful female in my imagination came. They told me it is difficult, my dear............. to find her. This description is high. Your Lord distributes His beauty.............. to all His creation equally, and the girl is yours. I love it......... it is banned from every valley. You will search for it in mosques........... or even if it is prayer clubs, uncle, Istikhara............ Your Lord He will get it in seconds. Forget about the feather, my friend...........and say, “Oh God, guide me,” with a pen The poet Dr. Mohi El-Din Jumah Taha
♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕(29).....قصيدة / آهات الشيب
"""""""""" """""""
كتبت بقلم/
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
--------------------------------
ألا ليت الشباب يعود يوما
فأشكو إليه ما فعل المشيب
لقد كنا نشاط نجرى دومآ
لنا بصمة وعلم لايغيب
حبانا الله بالعقل السليمٍ
وهمة.وقد خضنا دروبا
بعون الله قد كنا مثالآ
وشعلة يقتدى منها الشباب
نزلنا الارض جوبنا كل واد
عملنا كديدبان حتى الحدود
ولم يقصدنا احد من الخلائق
بطلب وخيبنا له الوعود
مضت بنا سنين العمر تجرى
وتركت لى تجاعيد وشيب
ولا أحد يصدق أنى كنت
ولا أحد يرى غير المشيب
فياربى وإن كثرت ذنوبى
علمت بأن عفوك لم يغيب
رجوتك إن بلغ بى النحيب
بأن تحسن مقامى يامجيب
فكل الكون فانٍ لامحاله
وتبقى الله بالكون الرحيبِِ
كلمات الشاعر
د/ محى الدين جمعه طه
(29)...The poem / Groans of Gray Hair “""""""""" """"""" Written by the poet Mohy Jumah Taha -------------- ------------------ I wish the youth would come back one day so I could complain to him about what the gray hair did. We were active, always running. We had an imprint and knowledge that was never absent. God endowed us with a sound mind and determination. We have gone through paths with God’s help. We have been... An example and a beacon for young people to follow. We descended to the earth and roamed every valley. We worked like a worm until the border, but it did not reach us. One of the creatures asked and we failed him with promises. The years of our lives have passed and left me with wrinkles and gray hair, and no one believes that I was, and no one sees anything other than gray hair. O my Lord, even if my sins are many, I know that your forgiveness has not been absent. I hope for you, if my wailing reaches me, that you will improve my standing, O Answerer. For all the universe is inevitably mortal, and you remain God. With the spacious universe, words of the poet Dr. Mohi El-Din Juma Taha
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(30)ترحيب بالعام الجديد
بقلم /
الشاعر محى جمعه طه
******************
اهلا وسهلا مرحبا
إيدوا الشموع والكهربا
دا عام جديد وصل لنا
أمانا ياعامنا الجديد
تجيب لنا فرحه معاك
وتقرب الفرج البعيد
إبعدنا عن كل الهموم
دا كرونا اخدت منا كوم
احباب كتير من العموم
وخال وجار حتى الزبون
يارب ابعد الغيوم
وابعت لنا الأمل الجديد
مع العام الجاى السعيد
كتبها
محى الدين جمعه طه
(30) Welcoming the New Year, written by the poet Mohi Jumah Taha ****************** Welcome, welcome, turn on the candles and electricity. This is a new year. It has arrived for us in safety. O our new year, you will bring us joy with you and bring relief closer. Far away, keep us away from all worries. Corona has taken many loved ones from us, from the public, uncle and neighbor, and even the customer. O Lord, remove the clouds and send us new hope in the happy coming year. Written by Mohi El-Din Juma Taha
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