Poetry about the father

Contents

• 1 Father
• 2 Goodbye, Dad
• 3 Dad
• 4 I did not reckon after your death, Dad
• 5 Why did not my father inherit
• 6 Dad
• 7 How can I forget you, Dad
• 8 References

the father

When you look at the years of your life that have passed, you see how important your father is and his bounty on you and your siblings, because he is the owner of the big heart and the affectionate chest, which is the bond, the reference, and the strength, so you can only appreciate him in his life and even after his death, and his positions are appreciated with you since I was young Even I grew up, so some poets excelled in describing the father in his life and even after his death, and here are poems about the father with pens of different poets over time.

Goodbye, dad

• Muhammad Abu El-Ela, an Egyptian poet , was born in 1977 and is one of the members of the Writers Union of Egypt and one of his poems on the authority of the father: ^[1]

And you became a spectrum after the shrine

And you were excluded from us
When we lost that day

You were stripped of us
We came to you
We cried for you
You were among us as a bird of thee
With love she sings
You were a dream with us in a dream
With a lifetime
With the night in full, we were lost
And you became a spectrum after the shrine
It was a difficult day for us
Unfortunately, where the youth was lost
It was like the sun, as it turned away
How did he hide
And at dawn he missed ?!
And it became like a dream, they turned to it
So we gave him where we finished
Mirage
I did not think that the nights
She will assassinate her remorse and drink
And the stars of the heavens are bright
It will air
Dirt peaks
And it becomes whoever walks past
It flies like a bird
Rather, it is meteor shower
Sadness sweeps us as if we were
As yours
She rested with the sins
Farewell, Dad
Farewell, death has a deep wound
Farewell, Zafar and Nabb have died
Say goodbye to my father and let him go up
Raised the Jinan and the good deeds

My Father

• Elia Abu Madi is a Lebanese poet born in 1891 AD, and he is one of the founders of the Penal Association, and one of his most beautiful poems about the father is: ^[2]

I folded some of my soul as I wrapped you around the rich

And this second of which overflows my eyelids

My father betrayed you, and it was undermined

The shortcomings of my dreams are like a house of figs

Athletes were laughing hawks

She strengthened and relieved her blossom of painstaking onyx

Danani was pleased with full

Aftaht hand blind wine Walden

It is only the taste of semen in my mouth

It is only the voice of the mourners in my ear

There is no good in my eyes and rarely

I opened them before but Ali Hassan

What pictures of things after you other

But it was distorted by the hand of sadness

Mnki Tbar Al-Duha and his agate

And my heart in fire and my eyes in Dajan

Looking grief, my tears ended my blood

I used to prepare grief with cheese

So, I deplore how it became impossible on my screen

Censored in the windy tremor

The comforter says he does not challenge the boy crying

And the saying of the comforter does not help nor sing

I was diagnosed with confused aspiration

Beyond the sea Adno and Istidni

As a wing, the torrent realized its nest

She flew over heaven

Do not miss it if I am in the people when

I looked at the customs, asking them about me

Whereas, as for the earth, it made me simpler

I was with those weeping at the time of the burial

May that paternity be fulfilled

And if he does not meet the weight and weight

My greatest glory was that you are my father

My biggest honor was saying: He is my son

I am telling me to chill out

My grows increase the more I say if I am

Even farewell to the family prohibited by the boy

No matter how long this injustice and injustice

My father and if I said it like me

I call and pray, my country and my corner

For those who suffer distress after you in fever

Rayyan Al-Mona returns, laughing at the age

I took off boyhood in Houmt al-Majd brightly

And al-Shayb walks you away from the strokes

So he thought as a summer star at the beginning of the time

He saw as a sword or that mindfulness

And you would see the world without a screen

As a land without water and a sound without melody

You do no harm to yourself alone

Your laughter and the eyes of the sea and cheek

Daring to the prostitute, blasphemes from the betrayal

Quick to call, cream without mana

And if you updated a poet, you would

Labeeb meticulous understanding, taste and art

How did the listener feel for you

I did not say anything but said from Tarab Zidni‍

In spite of you, you left the square, if

Although we will catch the eye

A road where millions walked before us

From the high monarch Abdo to his servant art

We think the world is ours

We have nothing but the sea for ships

Go and be free in its wane

The prison resident is also being guided by the prison

I weighed in the mystery of death the philosophy of opinion

It failed and it was a fanfare without grinding

So the people of the earth believed it

As the most ignorant of them stoning

So this confused pulp with him

And this one is not safe from it

What a journey that is still very mysterious

In detail in the explanation and body

Whoever symbolizes Lebanon is majestic and prestige

And Al-Wafa fort is the fortified in that fort

Your shrine no matter what secret and pleasure

I built them adopting Mahamid what you adopt

He loved from the constellations her domes extended

And in my eyes the most beautiful cities

On that grave, peace

Areej Bhnafsafi for the fragrance dispensed

I didn't count after your death, Dad

• Abu al-Qasim al-Chebbi, a Tunisian poet and modern poet, died in 1934 and said in his lament to his father: ^[3]

I did not count after your death

Dad, my feelings are blind with sorrows

I will thirst for life and drink

From its glowing burst of trance

I return to the world with a beat heart

For love, joys and melodies

And all the images in the universe of semen

Oddities and whims of whims

Until the years moved, I came

Temptation of life with its artist's charm

If I am still a child, I am fond of

Tracks the lights and colors

And if life is pessimistic and rejected

Blows of fading and delirium

Ibn Adam is in the midst of his soul

The servant of life is the true believer

Why didn't I inherit my father?

• Ahmed Shawky is an Egyptian writer and poet. He is one of the most famous modern day poets . He was born in 1868 CE and died in 1932 CE. He said in the father’s lament: ^[4]

They asked me why I did not inherit my father

The father's lament is a debt, which debt?

Blame you, I do not oppress you

Where do I have the mind that pleases where?

Dad, you are not the first

Each breath of the miniature is obligatory

People and villages perished before you

The obituaries mourned the good of the two heavyweights

A person's purpose, if long

He takes it by the two boys

And a doctor who is powerless

Exhausted from his medicine, hidden Hanin

Death has a hand if it is struck

The two factions are split apart

Run out of weather

That the meeting between the two mountains

The chick descends from his couch

And get parrots in two hundred

I am who died and who I am

We both died twice

We were flustered in a hull

Then we became agitated in two areas

Then we went back in a hull

Then we dump a corpse in two shrouds

Then we live in Ali after us

We send the first of the two missions

See the universe and say in its description

Say: They are mercy in two mercies

Heaven is lost in finding us

And yes, we have them in two gardens

They are the excuse if they are angry

And they forgave us two nurses

I wish my hair was not alive

With which beginners are called

My father only a brother and left him

And the apostles died except parents

As long as we get to the table

The fracture contained two fractions

And we drank from one pot

And we washed two hands after it

And my hand walked in his hand

Whoever saw us said two brothers about us

The age looked at us

Evil leveled two views

Dad and death is a cup once

Do not taste it twice

How was the hour I spent

Everything before or after is easy

You drank a dose of death

A mother drank death with two doses

Fear no sorrow or crying after you

It froze from me and from you today

You taught me to let go

All adultery is forbidden by death

If only my hair would we receive

Once upon a time or is the separation of the colored

And if I die, I will be deposited

He gave one or two pits

My Father

• Nizar Tawfiq al-Qabbani, a contemporary Syrian diplomat and poet, issued his first bureau in 1944, and Nizar Qabbani said in his father's lament: ^[5]

Your father died
Delusion: I will not die, my father
At home from him
The scents of Lord and remembrance of a Prophet
Here they parked his things
He missed a thousand boy branches
I stripped him. You want it. Labyrinthed
As if my father is not yet gone
Ash platter and his cup
As is yet not drunk
And Islo Glass glasses him
Eyes heal from Morocco
His remnants in the spacious rooms
The remains of vultures are on the field
I wander around the corners on it so where
A command ... A command on a lawn
Tighten his hands ... I lean on him
I pray on his tired chest
My father .. is still between us and the hadith
Cups talk on the drinker
It gives us pleasure .. the cordial varicose veins
Reproduction of a good hole
My father was a story from heaven
And the meaning of the most spacious
And my father named us a refuge for the stars
Does the east remember my father's eyes?
With the summer memory of my father
Chrome and memory of the planet ..
Dad, Dad .. It's a good history
Behind you walking, do not blame ..
On your name we go on, so who is good
Desire for free to have the best
I carried you in the wake of my eyes ... even
Prepare for people that I am my father ..
I give you an even tones of voice
How did you go ... and still you?
If the fullness of the house is given to us
At home, a thousand gilded mouths
So we longed for our doors
In summer, my father must come

How can I forget you, Dad

• Abdullah Al-Faisal bin Abdul Aziz Al Saud is the prince, poet and eldest son of King Faisal bin Abdul Aziz, born in 1922 AD in Riyadh, and from his poems on the father: ^[6]

Any memory comes back to me after a year

She still had surgical bleeding

Which month is my spring running

In it and relaxed my ribs

What a terrible sermon I was afraid of

He did away with my intention and wound my weapon

Which is humiliated large groaning

And he showed me the funeral of morning in my morning

Any day I say goodbye to my love

Then I converted my acclaim to lamenters

It is my dead day before my death

And the brightening of light in my lamp

It is the day I wish I had been a shadow

Close to the Sadami Hinemat

It is a day in which he fell

I swear to God prostrating, not shouting

A day of existence

Plenty met and all righteous

I wish I could ransom the one

Then she died after my joy

"He prays," Muhannad, I don't like the

Sheath one day and do not irrigate aspiration

O Hussam in the grip of right and eye

Who liked the greatest of the likes

Claimed " Abdul Aziz " epic splendor

The legend of high and the struggle

How to inherit you, Dad, rhymes

Minor wing rhymes

How do I cry and eternity met in

K is a three-dimensional martyr of the farmer

How to smile

How is life fun for the bearded

How can I not count existence as hell?

They contain me in my coming and rawah

How can I harness my tears?

I do not fear the beard in you

How do I forget you, Dad .. How to erase

From my imagination your sweet fantasy erased

Not to me, awesomeness

The sorrow, despite the scandal, led

Not my Lord, please give me the boy

I saw you in the heaven