Oh, beloved month, with your lanterns lighting up our nights,
You arrived with a wave of mercy, gentle and wide;
You lifted our tired spirits to new heights,
Where quiet prayers and hopeful dreams reside.
Your days taught us the beauty of patience through fasting,
Your nights became a haven where the faithful kneel;
Each soft prayer would rise in the stillness,
And broken hearts would slowly begin to heal.
But now, as you start to fade beyond the crescent's glow,
A gentle guest getting ready to say goodbye;
The morning breeze is already beginning to stir,
Whispering softly like a distant bell's sigh.
Yet what you've planted in the hearts of the faithful,
Will last beyond you, guiding every part.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem