On the occasion of January 17 Khajovi Kermani Commemoration Day An excerpt from The most beautiful pure and famous poems of Divan Khajovi Kermani that you can use for Instagram posts, captions, and stories.
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I will tell you a secret with you in a tongueless language
I look for a way to you from you to the sign of being homeless
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Khajavi Kermani’s poems about God
Do not worship yourself because you seek God
You are asking for survival in the destruction of the property
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The skirt of the flower will not fight whoever thinks of the thorn
Whoever thinks about a snake will not get a nut
The one who is afraid of the sea will not fall in the door
Don’t eat, let him think of it as a hangover
Every time the role of the writer is illustrated
It was the role of the wall, he thought
How can you help me if you don’t have sadness and thoughts?
Help is when a friend thinks of a friend’s grief
At such a time when I lost my job
I’m poor, I can’t think of a solution
Whoever is traveling with his head in the back is a helper
This is the idea of thinking about the country
In such a situation, the candidate failed
The memory of those who think about it
He was unaware of the hum of the following song
You don’t think he thought about moaning
You can cry and wail for a hundred years
When did the flower of a hundred leaves think of Bang Hezhar?
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Don’t leave me in this incident
Because I became your catch, catch me and keep me
If I cry, don’t be angry
I beg you, and you are hurting me more than this
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It is known that last night in the Assembly of Companions
Shama Jagar Tab and I didn’t sleep till day
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Until you don’t give me your hand
The blood in my heart fell from your hand
You are far away from the city of Baghdad
My skirt is the Tigris of Baghdad in your hands
I will go and ask for help from you tomorrow
How long will I suffer from your hands?
No sweet sugar in Khosrow’s door
On my wife’s chest, you have a stone in your hand
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Remember that it was my idea to go
Rokh and Zalfat were my dinner and dawn
Remember that I see you every night
In the month of 14th until the day of Nazar, it was me
Remember that I breathed on your face every morning
The horizon was full of flames
Remember that your eyes are beautiful and your lips are beautiful
The speech of the parliament was all almonds and sugar
Remember that it shines on you and the picture
He saw me full of rays of sun and moon
Remember that the warm Venus was not speech
After all, I was informed about your condition every day
Remember that I was determined to travel
My waist was between your hands every moment
Remember that you came out, Buda
My head was buzzing in the song of my journey
Remember what you want from your lips and teeth
My mouth was full of sugar and my eyes were full of joy
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Short poems by Khajovi Kermani
O gardener, tell me where the path to the garden is
Where are the faces of friends in the flower garden?
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Suffer from someone whose pain is our medicine
We are wounded by someone whose hurt heals us
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Our work does not suit you without height, right
Really, what is the problem that the card is high?
Because you are too tall to say something
It stays upright in the cedar grass above you
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Ger is a kind of nanali
that the pain from a friend is medicine
What’s wrong with my work?
Is it the smell of our dollars?
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You don’t know why I have tears in my eyes
I have opened my heart to everyone
My work fell out of your hands
Make a solution for me now that the work is done
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Darling, the sun shines a little on the test
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Your Hinduism is in the summer and we are not warm
Your magic eye is in sleep and we are not asleep
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Beware of help that is no help
Don’t stop writing it
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I smelled your snot, let my heart be broken
Come, my dear soul, be sacrificed for your smell
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If that month becomes kind
Let the sadness of the heart be sad for the soul
He speaks when I mention his name
All my parts should be spoken
I will remind him of his eyes
Hair grows on my limbs
Because I want to draw his eyebrows
As tall as my bowed arrow
The shame of his beauty every month
be hidden in the veil of absence
Or the master of this cabinet mill
How many lovers are there?
Because my heart tells a secret with your sadness
To be translated in the middle of the cream
From your lips whoever he asks
Because your mouth will be invisible
If he speaks out of spite, ask him
The sugar will flow from its logic
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Khajovi Kermani’s poems about love
The hadith of love will be remembered by us
The foundation of our passion will remain strong
Now that our ship fell in the middle of the wave
He will be dismissed from us
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In the morning, Golshan Jamal saw you
He laughed at the brides in the garden
I said the name Laalat Cho
Let the water of life drip from my lips
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Ah, from that friend who did not know about his friends
It is from the one who does not have the sorrow of his mourners
There is no help if one is not aware of the help
Yar should be the advertisement of his friends
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