Most Beautiful Thing ! / Opinion .


Most beautiful thing in a man is his Manhood .

Most beautiful thing in a woman is her Jealousy .

Most beautiful thing in a child is his innocence.

Most beautiful thing in the night is its calmness.

Most beautiful thing in an ocean is its Rage.

Most beautiful language in the world is Silence.

Most powerful language in the world is Tears..

Jalal Michael Sabbagh , Mysuccessisoursuccess.

Friendship ! / Love ! / Woman’s Heart.


” Often friendship ends with love , but love seldom ends with friendship.”

((Love and tender woman’s heart keep the world revolving.Jalal Michael Sabbagh.http://gravatar.com/jmsabbagh86@gmail.com )) Heartily thank you for the 1770 followers of my blog and those who visit the blog.

Heart , Mind And Torment ! / Affection.


Love and affection in the Arabian deserts captivates the deepest human’s senses and desires.Pure ,sweet yet so provocative.Loving a woman transcends even the point of admiration .Infatuated poets depict their passion like the phoenixes trying to reach the threshold of the heaven before they are exhausted ,before death captures their souls and die .Yearning , Love and compassion burn them to ashes yet from the ashes they rise again to their youthfulness .Their souls seem to be in existence as long before the universe was in existence.For as long their hearts beat they perpetually thrive.A poet is like a sparrow , but he doesn’t know how the sparrows live generation after generation ,how they build their nests or how they teach their chicks how to survive.The sparrows are mere wanderers,despite their freedom in the vast skies.The joyous melodic songs they hum to energize themselves to take all challenges of L i f e. The P o e t suffers the agony of loving a woman who doesn’t love him back or foresees his feelings,helplessness,remoteness and his solicitude that cuts like a knife .
My love you are not getting near,
And l can’t get close to you.
l am like a chick in a child’s palm .
He squeezes it between his fingers,
Causing the chick to suffer death’s bitterness.
The child is amused with his game,
Not knowing what he is doing or why.
And the Chick has no feather to set,
Itself f r e e a n d F l y .

((jalal Michael Sabbagh.http://gravatar.com/jmsabbagh86@gmail.com)),