Hope is, by definition, a feeling of expectation and desire for something to happen, a feeling of trust**
Hope carries anchors on it's shoulders, afraid it will only meet the standard of almost
We all hope, but we do not all receive
Hope is the product of human weakness
We long that's why we aspire
Imagine how weak man is, we are not like birds that can fly when we want to go to places or we want to see people
We are frail and easily inflicted with illnesses
We are fragile bottles that easily break physically and emotionally, hence the development of the helmet and airbags
The study of human emotion called psychology and psychiatry
And worse, we die, that is why men searched for the fountain of youth to no avail
Hope helps us to move on and continue
Hope is a wish, hope is a motivator
Hope gives a reason to keep going
Hope is the whisper telling us that it will get better in time
But I ask, why do the hands of my clock have arthritis
Hope is not a liar
Hope is encouraging but hope is also deceiving
Hope is joker, a trickster
Like an amateur magician, everyone could see the trap door but me
Hope will disappoint you
Hope is not perfect, hope does not always work out like you think hope should
But hope is valuable, hope keeps balance
Hope carries the unable, the dreamers, the optimists
Hope is the guide
Without hope, we're lost
Without hope, we're nothing

Sufferings didn't push me back,
They pushed me ahead, and they, to me, I believe,
Give us enough strength to fight the difficult times!

I don't really belong
to a particular place.
Making temporary homes
of the people I meet.
Until they fall apart like the rest,
and I fall through the cracks.
*Life moves on without me.

Mi alma no puedo estirarse
alrededor el mundo y continúa igual.
Las olas del mar son como bestias
y están atacándome con el espíritu del pasado.
Del espíritu pesado, con dudas.

Regresa el alma a mi cuerpo,
en el mitad de la tierra linda,
Pero lejos del mar, en el viento nuevo,
la única ola es el césped fértil.
La tierra canta de una promesa desconocida.

Pero su forma de ser no me toca.
No caigo la canción, no tiene sentido la tierra: negra y oscura, será congelada pronto.
Sin claridad del hielo
ni cielo.

No quiero tener dudas.
No quiero buscar mi juventud en los árboles,  
En el año de mi niñez.
Nunca jamás encuentro a mi mismo en las ramas marrones, sino en tus ojos morenos.

Mi cuerpo me duele para tí
Como los árboles esperan el viento otoñal.
Los días me pasan como hojas del árbol otoñal,
Se fueron. Se fueron.
Me voy. Me fui.

¿Cómo es posible que las dudas me dejen?
Que mi alma anciana vieja en el mar *******,
Hasta me da cuento que mi corazón ya haya estado cerca
en las manos tuyos,
como un regalo
en dos hojas otoñales.

/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen