The heart is greater than the eyes,
For the heart, amidst all the pain,
Sees through the delicate lenses of beauty!

The heart is superior over the ears,
For the heart, amid all the loud noise,
Listens to the softest whispers of humanity!

The heart is bigger than the nose,
For the heart, among all of the scents,
Smells the fragrance of new life!

The heart is larger than the hands,
For the heart, amongst all that it can do,
Touches in a way that is softer than the dawn’s dew!

The heart is superior to the tongue,
For the heart, with all of its might,
Speaks only the sweet letters of kindness!

The heart is more immense than all of the human senses,
For the heart carries so much love,
It can lighten up the face of the whole universe!

Hussein Dekmak

He had green fingers,
My heart was an arid patch,
Tenderly he planted love seeds in it.
He watered it with care,
Nurtured it with patience,
Tended the delicate shoots,
Sang duets with the fragile leaves,
Until my heart blossomed into a beautiful garden of heavenly, colourful love buds,
Which bloomed and diffused an exotic fragrance of love and happiness.
3/2/2019

Yes, you people
would have dreamed
of your sweetheart,
A thousand things you
would want to see
in your sweetheart,
Oh! I want but one -
May she love me,
May she love my heart
for its tears,
May she be a gift of flowers,
to my tender heart,
May she fill it with her fragrance,
My tears, her fragrance,
Let these two combine,
And I won't ask for anything else...

© Manan sheel.

Let me be:
The makeup on your skin,
And the fragrance of your perfume.

Let me be:
The breeze that grazes your face,
And the unspoken letters on your lips.

Let me be:
Your hidden secrets,
And your full moon.

Let me be:
Your smile, your laughter, your tears,
Your wishes, and your happy dreams.

Hussein Dekmak

She was a rose, pressed into the pages
Of a book, meant to hold a place.
Instead of a page in a book,
She held a place in his heart,
Which she thought she would always have.
But eventually, bookmarks are lost,
And stories are forgotten,
And all that is left is
The smell of the binding
As the book closes for the last time.

there is something in the air.
the smell of musk and cedar wood.
everywhere where the wind carries me,
it is there.
this distinctive scent.
the scent of security and
memories of beautiful days.
it is your scent
that I've learned to love