A poem for Kirovsky

The Call of Love


In the name of Allah, the most Beneficent, most Merciful.


Standing still it is
In the coldness of winter breeze
No more birds chirping
All you heard is a lonely singing
Pivoted firmly on the Soviet land
A symbol of worship that will never end
Not once ever fail to invite us
But some even think it is worthless!
If only it can show its tears
That have been kept for years
The sound of azan calling for souls
Come back please, O come back home
So you and me, we can be close.


In this little house we are on our knees
Hasten to forgiveness from Allah the Almighty
Meeting Him in His beautiful garden is our mission
Knowing our vague lives here ain't a vacation
Till our very last beat
It is Allah we should always seek
Because death, death is ultimate
Time and place you can never negotiate.


O brothers and sisters let's spread the love
The utmost love granted from above
This house isn't only as a shelter in storms
But something we can present to the Lord when we are gone
A petit endeavor towards our Deen
For Allah loves a sincere, faithful muttaqin.

InshaAllah.


Inilah poem yang saya hantar utk Kirovsky week hari tu.
Diinspirasi oleh Alexander Sergevich Pushkin.
Tapi Prof Dr Muhaya lah yang telah membuat saya duduk, dan mula menulis.




This is the least thing i could do for the mosque. Semoga Allah redha :D

syeera's, etie's, mine :)

The boy with a helpless cat >.<

ps. Viktoria Vasilievna, my path anat lecturer gave me this ! :D

<3

pps. and this is for ibu :)

Assalamualaikum.