Poetry: Ashraf AboArafe
As if the eleventh of May has become a feast,
Chanting the glory of her who graced it with eternity.
The month boasted as it gifted us such pearls,
And this day became the very crown in the book of sublimity.
“The Guarded One of Purity” and the pride of her lineage,
Like the full moon, she grants our night a celebration.
The purity of her soul remains without an equal,
And the fragrance of her virtue echoed in every scent.
To you, yearnings are sent within her smiles,
And prayers flow, generously fulfilling every wish.
You have filled life with faith and noble deeds,
Becoming the light, the radiance, and the essence of grace.
O May, linger a while in the darkness of time,
For on the eleventh, you were granted true distinction.
You were created to dwell in the heights, pure and sublime,
And this day shall forever remain a feast in your name.
