Red, red rose—  
not for sure  
from this ancient Earth.  
Yet it seems so close  
to the eyes, to the heart;  
then there's the thorn—  
you can't touch!

Not sure what  
the nightingale sang,  
yet a heady fragrance  
seems to whisper:  
"Heart, eyes, hands—  
whatever you feel, say freely;  
mine are yours,  
I wish you could see!"

The same rose, still ablaze scorching red,  
A ****** from realms yet untread,  
That unfolds upon the ancient, earthen bed—  
But heed the thorn; this way one cannot tread.

Every morning the nightingale sings her song,  
Leaps into melody, ere the day grows long.  
Down the moon’s open eye, once strong,  
To unlock the door, one must belong.

In the quietude, beneath the moon’s aged grace,  
Maybe lies a key forged in shadow,
The sun slides down, lights a candle at a silent pace.  
Who claims this boon, who dares to embrace,  
Must know the rose’s fire, the nightingale’s chase.

The same rose, still red hot,  
the ****** from the other world,  
wide open on the ancient Earth—  
mind the thorn, though;  
this way, the door is closed!

Every morn, the nightingale  
hops onto singing before the sun pops.  
In the shadow of the visited moon,  
keying in the door must be someone's boon!

Knows the secret of the universe
but doesn't know the heart
it doesn't tally up!

Hop onto the spacecraft
fly off to the star
technically that can be done
mathematically can be numbered.

But that deep dive deep down
the sea of the soul
only an interpreter of the heart can play this role.
What AI can mimic that or an art can choreograph
or a computer can emulate this part?

Lo, another Ramadan dawn breaks,
millions more feelings of solemnity fill the air.
The time to bid farewell is upon us,
a moment both heavy and sacred.

O blissful Ramadan, brimming with purity and reflection,
when hearts and homes open wide, embracing all.

Prepare to leave, adorned with the beauty of Allah’s bounty:
Your movement like déjà vu moonlight,
your grace as delicate as the finest Muslin.
Let every rose from the garden encircle you,
a garland of farewell.

In the golden hour of dusk,
when Iftar and Suhur beautifully intertwine,
the sweetness of the evening fills the air, nourishing souls.

With a nectar of kindness, bid adieu to every friend of nature
their essence lingers in memory,
sweet as the moments spent in devotion and joy.

'Alvida' - a farewell not of forever
but of waiting until we meet again.
Draw the last stroke of parting on the canvas of the sky,
leaving a promise beneath the rainbow.

Parting with the crescent moon, hearts overflow with hope
O Ramadan, until we welcome you again,
let the essence of your purity and peace remain with us.

Farewell, O holy month
Your parting leaves behind a trail of light,
guiding us until your return.

Live for freedom
  die without consent!

The wind on the flow
to all directions south and north
paints on the lotus blooms on the sea
down the sky in lapis lazuli blue.
My daughter Zubeda Maya
asks me on the go
did you capture this fabulous mo?

Oh, where shall I start to roll
the Red Sea in Hurghada Egypt
puts on thousand and one show!