Feelings do not fall with the passage of time. Rather, they are tempting temptations on the boards of transit ships. Octopus outrigger cannot change the color of the sea.
This Gulf, with its depth, magic, sound, secret, goodness, experience, and line that passed from here through the pages of history, tells us that the same family from Kuwait, to Bahrain, to Saudi Arabia to Qatar, to the Emirates, to Oman, drank from the salt of this Gulf. Until its fish watered, its pearls lit up, and the diving ships, which were the diving gull, and the mountains of communication between this Kuwaiti alley and that Bahraini lane, and between them the Qatari house, then the Saudi oasis, then the Emirati Shima, then the wide geographical distance at the other mountain, were stuck in Oman.
A hexagonal cube, encircling the hearts of Gulf lovers, filling their dreams with scenes of longing embrace, and achievements that move up the ladder of development, with patience and deliberation, and counting the number of years in which the Gulf has been, the title of longing for the beauty of the wave, sweeping the oysters, and the coasts dropping their braids at the side and board .
Our Gulf is one, and destiny is a chain of gold that turns on its necks, and illuminates a humane reality, adorned with a history that has passed from here, and enshrined a dream, and awareness in the human conscience, so there is no darkness, nor trembling, but rather it is the Arabian Gulf, which has taken upon itself, since time immemorial, the responsibility of reaching To all parts of the world, and since Ibn Majid, he opened the windows wide and wide, saying, “Come, we are here, and our doors are open for the peace of all people, and our hearts are filled with the fragrance of the herb of life.”
Our bay is one, united by feelings buried in love, harmonious with the sea, in its purity, in harmony with the wave in its whiteness, always dreaming of a place where its chariots are not obstructed by catapults, nor churns, going consciously towards an area dominated by beauty butterflies, and wonderful fragrant flowers.
Our Gulf is one, and our path is stable in its rivers and sports, inspired by its radiant tenderness, from that glorious history of a nation that spread sails in the seas and oceans, and sang the noose of wide dreams, so that the cosmic space rejoiced, the cloud smiled, the star shone, and the sea remained calm as a prayer rug. It is like an ancient palm tree, like a ghast that shades its nests with tenderness, spontaneity, and spontaneity of giving.
Our Gulf is one, and our love grows when ambitions grow, and the sea becomes an ink for a single Gulf novel, expressing the unity of feelings, goals, and aspirations.
May God protect our Gulf, and extend it from the ink of his giving, good, peace, and love.
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