Twenty completed..and we didn’t know
Today, the year of the twenty-eighth column is complete, twenty years old, and he is dedicated to the homeland, to man, and to the good. He ventured towards his small battles, and often success was his ally. He whimpered in joy and what pleased people. He wept bitterly for their sadness, and in farewell to the good, he traveled with you, with you, and for you. Praise and basmalah, and what Abu Hayyan al-Tawhidi left behind in the conversations of the new time, and he was not stingy with knowledge, he was seeking to steal the laughter of the morning from you, and make your day colorful like a butterfly’s wing, embroider the language, and the benefits of letters, and what can bring you astonishment, he walked me twenty A year ahead, towards the most beautiful, and I kept following him without getting tired, chasing our shadows, and knocking on people’s doors without permission, because we only carry roses and perfume, and we bring nothing but musk in our hands, and our words are honey and nectar of sugar, whispering to people passing by: Your way is slow, what is this how you enter the cities And we carry the residents with wills that weigh the neck, nothing like goodness, work and love of the homeland.
Twenty years were not easy, nor all of its roads are green and grassy, nor all of its words were cold, drink and peace for people who love benefit, and fight for interest, nor all talk delight the head of the listener and reader, there are those who are killed by their ignorance, and there are those who are driven by their stubbornness even if it is about a restriction The embers, but the lovers are many, and the defenders are innumerable, especially when wisdom is the bet, and the words of men are the statement.
Twenty years, and this little brat is growing up, and the days are growing old, and he does not want to be but the one who promises the homeland, he goes far.. and deep, like a guard who wished on a moonlit night, and by kidnapping angels with green wings, and their faces light and bright, to write to him to be the guardian of this The city, and the trustee of its memories, even if the letters are absent from the chests, and the memorizers are absent in the succession and succession of days, and that what was written in the stationery and what the digital memory has stored is the clay memory of this country and its good people always.
Is there a bet on the coming years, to which we circulate hope and optimism? Or does the knight say it is time for me to go towards the shadow of a lush palm that inhabits that precious city, he wants to rest under it, to fall on him from its moist genie, and fly when the fire craves, and walk unloaded with that delicious daily fatigue, and that evening pursuit of letters in the time of the intensification of the arc and the storming of time Will it be light, as he thinks, if he abandons that daily obligation, and becomes the lightness of a person whose lightness cannot be tolerated? Or will he feel unemployed for the first time, and that he is unemployed? These are questions that I raise on the path to salvation, and their answers bring me back to the avenue of the road at the first path, next to the first turn, and that there is no break in “Catholic” marriage except to a final, chosen end!
Happy morning with all the goodness, friendliness, thanks and roses.
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