These thoughts are hymns for joy and happiness, and hymns for giving and giving to others and to oneself, alike to the two. What is important is that this giving be purely for the good and a giving that does not expect to be returned with the same. For our giving to be beautiful and wonderful, we must distribute it like pieces of candy that are distributed to children without any expectation from them to pay. Its price.
It is a call for love, tolerance and familiarity for all, as they are all human values that do not recognize spatial or temporal boundaries. Their boundaries will be drawn after they prevail in a world that needs many stimulating doses of them, and our role is to take these doses one dose after another.
I leave you with some hymns of happiness, away from the world of sorrows and worries, and doses of hope that we have drawn and colored with the colors of happiness.
Where poetry is water, a cloud of perfume and rain, circling around the playing fields and the hum of things, only the poem is, when the poet’s soul is present, and his eternal, shortened yearning is present at the dock of wishes and the nooks of words. The moment of poetry is the poet’s feeling and pulse, his dream, and his vast, generous imaginations, a moment. The growing love, spreading the light within us, as if quenching a thirst.
Poetry is imagination, and perhaps a supplication creeps from behind words to make a supplication and weave a story. True poetry is us with all the beauty we carry and the feelings we harbor. It is something that flows like magic, making the moon rise.
The poem is some words that express us, and they may not express us, they leave us with pain and fatigue, as if the alphabet in its hidden secret refuses to be us/us, to become strangers to us. Here is an attempt to translate the self, and another attempt to express the other in some way, which may make him one of those whom the words here draw. .
In this literary work, I, you, and them, let us read with love, color the sky with joy, and follow the words.
Gold cage:
Anonymous short stories. The characters talk about a cage in which a person has chained himself. This cage is about ancient events in which the person could not get out
From her cage, there is a lesson in every story.
My stories.. A collection of stories, most of them from real life, that happened to me. It was a lived reality! A few of them were speculative, born of imagination. The collection is crafted in a literary, meditative, and musical style. On this page I would like to point out two stories from this group. The first, “Love Behind the Glass”; Its hero is the hoopoe, who loves himself to the point of madness! The glass was reflecting his image! He understood the reflection! He did not understand the deception of glass. She thought she was exchanging love with the scales of justice! All the responses were equal parts taps, dances, and flying spins! Abandonment! Until the final fall and surrender! As for the second, it is entitled “Zero has ten dreams.” I do not remember when I wrote it except that I saw Zero before it! Picture me as a little kid! And I saw him growing up in dreams! Dreams are numbers! And residences are symbols! So I interpreted it and interpreted it as the events of the days pleased me at that time! It made digital symbols a story... unlike any other story. And here are all the stories... for you. East clouds
