Good night lovely world =)

If you want to make a girl ‘s heart your eternal home
Tell her she  has beautiful soul
Give her tender forehead kisses
And send her goOd night messages
Daisy flowers are sleeping
Butterflies are dreaming
The moon is wispering to naughty stars  “shshhhhhhh”.
It’s time to sleep .         
Close your eyes and sweet dreams
It’s time to sleep .
Close your eyes and sweet dreams.
Written by arabian roses

Unwrap انزع الغطاء

يثحدثون عن النعم المتخفية . وانا اتساءل فقط عن ماهية الازياء التنكرية التي ترتديها . هل هي تختبئ  لسبب ما ?هل هي حقا تختبئ?الكثيريلاحقونها ولكنها لاتتراء لهم  الا بعد سنين من المحاولات و الدروس. ويقولون للنعمة :”اخلعي معطفك وقبعتك و اظهري نفسك.” ولكن  انت فقط  من عليه ان يخلع قناعه هنا في عالم الحظ الطيب.لتزح بالغمامة. يعرف الحب نعمة.  يعرف هذه النعمة المحبوب و غير  المحبوب. ماهي النعم ? انها هبات قسمها الله هي  رموز صغيرة من الحب و لكن كرات ضخمة من الذهب الخالص.عندما تغدق علينا النعم نلاحقها لنجد اننا نملك فقط ادلة تؤدي الى  ادلة  اخرى      . فهي توجد في لاشيء و كل شي .الروح نعمة  تشع نعما  .  و لايستطيع رؤية هذه النعم الا هؤلاء الذين يملكون قلبا  ذو عيون فالتنكر يكون شفافا

وهبت مرة هدية. كانت رمزا جميلا للتقدير.كانت الهدية فكرة لاشكل لها.  لقد كانت همسة في اذني.نمت هديتي على امتداد السنين و جلبت لي هدايا اخرى فاخرى.لم تكن روحي لتطير لو لم تكن هديتي . لم تكن لتسطع كالشمس و النجوم .لولم يكن ذلك لكان قلبي مظلما ,مليئا بالرغبات العديمة الرحمة و الفراغ.تحتوي هديتي على ملهم يوقد نارا في عقلي و عيناي ويغمر نيران الجشع  والرغبة.ويسكب مياه الحياة على قدماي يروي بذلك عطش روحي للحب و العطف.و تتسارع انفاسي كل ما كبرت هديتي لتصبح اكثر حلاوة ونقاء . كانت الكلمات التي قلتها حقيقة والافكار التي كونتها طاهرة في جوهرها قد صيغت في بطن الهدية .  اتحدث عن الهدية كما لو كانت حسية رغم انها كذلك فهي ليست كذلك. تمنح الهدية الغير مغلفة لكل شخص  نعما متنكرة متدثرة باللحم و العظم  . ابحث عن عالم من الحظ الطيب .لا تبحث عن علبة مغلفة بالورق  ولكن بدلا عن ذلك انظر الى الحقيقة  فمن خلالها يمكنك ان نجد الهدية كما يمكن ان تجدها بدونها.ان البصر بعيون مغلقة هي نعمة.ان معرفة الاه نعمة .طلب الروح هو بحث و لكنه ولد داخل الروح .هذه هي الهبةانها  تلك العلبة الغير مغلفة و االكتلة الغير منحوتة التي نراها ضمن النجوم و نسافر الى القمر لنمسك بها .تعيش في الافق و لكن لن تجدها تحت جسر الحقيقة .افتح قلبك و سوف تجد النعمة   .فهي لاتتوارى عن اي شخص. انها موجودة في يدك كل ذلك الوقت.    المصدر: عالم المعرفة


They talk of blessings in disguise. I only wonder what type of costumes they wear. Do they hide for a reason? Do they even hide? Many chase after it; the blessing incognito, only to be witnessed after years of trials and lessons. To the blessing they say; remove your coat and hat; show yourself. But only it is you who should take off your mask here in the sphere of good fortune. Remove the blindfold.

Love knows a blessing, and so do the loved and unloved. Blessings are what? They are gifts graciously parted by the divine; small tokens of love, but large bowls of pure gold. In being blessed we chase the blessing, only to find that we only have clues that lead us to more clues. There is no map. It exists in nothing, and in everything. The spirit is blessing, it returns blessings. Only those with eyes of heart see it. Its disguise is transparent.

I was given a gift once; a lovely token of appreciation. The gift was of formless thought; a whisper in my ear. My gift grew over the years, and brought to me more gifts, and then more. If not for my gift, my spirit would not fly. It would not be brilliant as the sun and stars. If not for this my heart would be dark, full of heartless desire and emptiness.

My gift held muse. It burned hot fires in my mind and eyes. It doused flames of greed and want. It poured waters of life over my feet, quenching my soul with love and compassion. My breath quickened as my gift grew; it became sweet and fresh. The words I spoke were truth. The thoughts I formed were pure in heart, forged in the belly of the gift.

I speak of the gift as though it were tangible. Though it is, it is also not. The unwrapped gift is given to everyone; blessings in disguise; cloaked by flesh and bone.

Seek the sphere of good fortune. Look not for a box wrapped with paper and bows. But see instead the truth. Within, you can find the gift, just as you can without. Sight with closed eyes is a gift. Knowing of God is a blessing. Seeking the spirit is a quest, but one born within the soul. This is the gift; the unwrapped box; the uncarved block. Within the stars we see it. We travel the moons to grasp it.

Over the horizon it lives, but under the bridge of truth you will not find it. Open your heart and you will find the blessing; the gift. It does not hide from anyone. It exists all the while.. in your hand.

Written by

Translated by arabian roses

He’s a thief

He steals  the sea’s  pearls, and the earth’s gold bangles  and  leaves  them   flowers instead . He told me that people kill to grow  gold, but they won’t kill  each other to grow flowers.

He steals  the river’s joyful ripple to heal the  rusty souls.He told me that nothing could rival a song sung by a river infatuated  with life.

He steals all evil thoughts and  cast on them love spells. He told me ,only  magic can wipe them out,the magic of  human touch.

He steals mountain’s highness .He told me it will teach man to never yield.

Written by arabian roses

A restless thunder

The thunder was groaning.

He had bad dreams,

The  gracious sun whispered gently to the summer breeze.

But his groan became appalling.

He’s summoning the wind and the rain,

The clouds yawned.

His beloved’s sighs, kept him restless.

the sun lowered her head graciously,

The earth ‘s pretty face went red , She said.

She soaked a lot of blood last night.

My locks were smoothering  when touching their  flaming  souls,

Added the summer breeze,

Trees were falling apart under their heavy angry foosteps too.

The earth looked up at the sky

and saw a tear in her eyes

the rain was weeping.

And unveiling the beatiful face of earth

Flowers shook their heads and ashen ghosts run away.

From above the thunder  was waiting impatiently

to see his  earth  ‘s beautiful locks glowing under the sun  again.

Written by arabian roses