Goddess of th.Alphabet's Secrets Prof. Mariam AlSayegh "Th.Almighty said it.before writing it in th.laws of th.universe - do not steal - while I practice th.act of covering, & not a single fig leaf f

Goddess of the Alphabet's Secrets Prof. Mariam Al-Sayegh:
"The Almighty said it... before writing it in the laws of the universe - do not steal - while I practice the act of covering, and not a single fig leaf falls to expose their last shame."
 
 
 
Goddess of the Alphabet's Secrets
Prof. Mariam Al-Sayegh:
God said: Before they wrote it in the laws of the universe - do not steal - & I practice the act of covering up& did not drop the last fig leaf of their shame
 
Dear ladies and gentlemen
 
With love, from my head and heart; the energies of your sincere love and my beloved’s constant support and passion for me have always illuminated and will continue to illuminate my path.
I am deeply grateful for the overwhelming love for my writings… "Old and new"… and for the intellectual movement stirred by the re-publication of my programs "The Theater’s Heartbeats", "The Etiquette of Love", and "The Etiquette of Life", "The Etiquette of Neighbors," and the growing interest in our courses, as well as the discussions on "novels, creative and psychological books, and specialized works," and "groups and tales from the Arabian Nights, both old and new."
I am also thankful for the admiration of my poem "In a place called there," and the awe of the complete collection of poems in "In a Place Called There, Where I Found My Happiness,"
and my poems in "Diwan of the Kingdom of Love", "Diwan of My Enslaved Homeland", then "Diwan of the Nonsense Prophecies of the Left-Handed Seer,"
"A Thousand Poems and Verses for the Arabian Nights," which amazed all readers with the depth of its expression and ideas. The editions sold out one after the other in pre-sales to subscribers, while the thieves carved their names on it, copying my old words - Ha ha ha.
Nothing remains hidden; no theft will be forgotten, and it will be paid for. The Lord is justice, and to Him alone belongs the reward and the wrath. I trust in the power of the Almighty, and I trust His plan for my life, so I entrust it to Him.
The Lord carries me through places of joy, victory, and life.
 
Dear ones, I will always repeat and never grow weary of saying, that the right to creativity is one of the simplest human rights. I even call for the establishment of international treaties to protect the thief from the evil of themselves and to ensure that laws help them return to the right path, to practice their rights to use their minds, talents, vocabulary, and their own circumstances,
so they can express themselves, preventing the creative environment from becoming a mere repetition of lifeless words.
After humanity’s natural instincts, its conscience, honor, the laws of the universe, and the commandments of religions have failed to stop some from violating their rights by hindering their minds from freedom of creativity, and misleading their insight with the humiliation of theft and copying.
 
My creative fingerprint is like the thumbprint of my hand; it is the magical harmony that flows through the veins and arteries, emanating from the heart and mind.
It is the poem of the music of the soul, in harmony with my inner universe, from which the eternal cosmic poem emerges through the stages of my life.
It is the riddle of my life, expressed simply by my spontaneity… from the pulse of my soul and mind, where the sweetness of my words flows for the taste of both the connoisseur and the ignorant thief.
They may steal my words, but they will not capture its joy or unravel the secrets of its creativity engraved in my soul and body.
It is the blood of my family running through the cells of my body, mixed with my experiences and thoughts… with the strength of my power in my body’s ailments, and the healing of the Almighty through the golden phoenix that flies above the abyss of cancer’s death.
While I spent my childhood years being taught by my grandmother, the storyteller, the enchanting Marula, whose endless talk passed down the heritage of her people and the tales of the ancients...
Through the memories of her connected conversations with her wise grandmother, Malika, decades of stories were etched into my soul’s cells, about the worlds of magic, and the gods of the Pharaohs, Greeks, and Romans, and the conflicts between the gods.
Traveling through worlds, I absorbed all knowledge, the stories of the ancients, and merged every moment in my life into the crucible of life’s decisive moments, where I stamp my creative fingerprint in my own language, thoughts, and emotions.
To describe the streets of cities and the feelings of time and space through the worlds, universes, and lives that extend through my shining moments in the universe’s vastness.
And it is strange that for decades I have been branded as heretic, judged for my inherited corruption, and my sites have been hacked by professional hackers who sought to systematically disrupt my personal site, my organization’s site, and even the sites where I publish my poetry, such as "Civilized Dialogue."
A futile attempt to contain my creativity.
But to my amazement, they found no shame in stealing my ideas, my soul’s pulse. This is the farce!!!
So when someone comes… and in a moment of weakness decides to steal my soul, my thoughts, my experiences as Scheherazade, and the tales of my childhood – my life, my love for my country,
the poems of the origin of creation and of my homeland and its eternal glory, dozens of my poems about Palestine, Lebanon, Iraq, Kuwait, Morocco, and others
and about the streets of my homelands, my travels and wandering through countries of the world, the worlds of joy and creativity, and my description of Christ and his copy of my poem about Christ and Iraq and my homeland,
and takes from my creative fragments a few lines, calling them poems, when they are far from it, then publishes them through the internet to gather the admiration of dozens!!!
To the point of copying my distinctive words – even the "waaw" (Arabic letter) I couldn't escape from –
and suddenly he becomes interested in gods, talks about them, even uses the mistakes in my poetic language, blending Arabic with the languages I master, like Sunflower, and other words with different meanings.
He even took my miracle of turning fish and feeding the masses, passing it to ignorance and rapid copying, with no understanding, as a single miracle, and the gods' struggle became his next goal – ha ha ha.
The literature and poetry of the gods, magic, incantations, engravings, tattoos, butterflies passing through death, the stories of the heavens and worlds, stories of the streets, comparisons and approximations of the shore, the sea, light, darkness,
love, here and there, the heritage of ancestors, the universe, and the eternal, timeless worlds, even the fragments and joy, and the meetings of thought and creative images...
that I wrote through thousands of poems... in extended moments over two and a half decades, which no mind can comprehend writing suddenly just by copied words because it is a deep-rooted culture grounded in its origins.
That’s why people didn’t believe him, because those convictions, studies, and ideas are not created out of nothing but are solidified through moments, months, and years of life. Horus, Amon, the gods of Cairo, the lotus flower,
raising the branches, Isis, Scheherazade and Shahryar, and the focus on the streets, countries, time and space, love, ecstasy, overwhelming joy, the extended moments, to aspire to produce magnificence, splendor,
the life of joy, mulberries and cherries, even wrath and retribution have become a punishment and a bite.
My stolen words and letters… are engravings in the depths of the soul that dwell there.
So when any of the thieves, in their various forms, suddenly steal or copy, dozens of their followers, and millions of those in love with my spiritual thoughts, feel the theft,
they read and record their writings before and after they stole my poetry.
Thus, their followers and those in their close circles know and hold every sentence, even in their ordinary posts,
and they find me between the lines, and everyone knows that I have become their pure spirit dwelling in the body of a thief.
Therefore, glory and thanks to the Almighty, who does not leave me without a witness.
So here I am, silent, Lord. I did not expose their thefts, but their thefts expose them and reveal their weak souls.
They expose themselves, but the Almighty knows, and people know, and they witness and send those thefts and the degrading breaches of human nature’s integrity!!!
 
So what about a cave of thieves who, supposedly, present themselves on the dark web as writers!! Don’t you understand?
Dear vampires… the thieves, the copyists, the inspirers, from me, my thoughts, and my experiences across the internet, the easiest thing is to curse, to mistreat, to make ignorant the thieves.
The easiest thing for the rightful owners is to file lawsuits, and this is a step I promise to take until it happens.
A simple training for all citizens of the internet, before participating in defamation punishable by law,
Learn to compare old and new writings of the thief. There are different types: some steal a complete piece, others are copyists who steal an idea without its soul, just empty words, copying them without spirit or thought.
All religions have encouraged reading... I invite you to read and analyze so you know the truth, for it is a rare commodity that only those with conscience and a search for truth truly master.
I publish my spiritual creative thoughts with their date of creation and with evidence, so that the wise can compare my writings with the stolen copies, so that everyone may know the truth.
I now enjoy not publishing my recent poems, even the new vision I add to them, for I am a creator, growing like a lush tree of goodness,
while they are dead, stuck in my old creations, fighting over the theft and copying of the old, while I have moved on to broader horizons.
So I only publish poems that are over two decades old. When a thief copies them,
I don’t need to speak. Just by publishing them, they are my signature, consistent with my thoughts, beliefs, and I hold their intellectual rights. They carry the stamp of my creative soul,
and represent the work of the Almighty in my life for over two decades, while thieves steal them within months.
And when a hundred steal them and millions love them, the winner is me,
while they are slaves to thefts and humiliation... the truth of their souls and their thefts is revealed to everyone.
Of course, any aggression... I have every right to respond to them, win intellectual property rights lawsuits, and seek compensation for thefts and insults.
I can only thank them for their constant acknowledgment... that I am the most creative, and the glory of the Almighty sees.
For the Lord hears my lament, and elevates me like a golden phoenix, a butterfly risen above the death of sin, passing through their deceitful paths and twisted actions, by the blessing of His love and my creative fingerprint,
preserved for me between the realms of the universe, with the conscience and noble souls of His people.
The Almighty grants me extended, deserving lives and fills me with joy, saturating every cell of my body, renewing my brilliance with the youth of my extended moments, with gifts, blessings, and radiance.
As for my thieves, I entrust my affairs to the Almighty, for He alone has granted me the cultural foundations, family, and thoughts that they steal,
while the righteous admire them, and their souls are healed, delighting in joy, sending me prayers of joy and blessings.
And I will continue to repeat in my circles… no matter how much they steal, even my daily words... let’s say to time, "Return, O time," to bring back goodness to souls, and remind them that no matter how long life may be, it is short,
for every grain of dust from them will be scattered by the wind without false likes they obtained by stealing my creative words, as life, of course, cannot be lived without love.
So let them first love themselves, and not humiliate them by stealing the creations of my soul, so they may then use the energy of love that they imagine they can steal from me.
I wonder, amazed and astonished, how they use my words of love when they don’t love themselves and do not enjoy the blessings of the Almighty.
So I rise, and my beloved, like an eagle and a phoenix, we roam far in our place called there... with joy, we play our special symphony,
and we dance, and my life, we dance our eternal, timeless dance, to the harmony of the music of the universe, which resides in us and carries my creative fingerprint as proof of their poverty, weakness, dishonesty, and lies.
While my creativity spreads through my lives, across the realms of the universe.
For the honorable only, who have not sullied their hands in oppression and theft of rights, souls, and the creations of any living being, all days, and we are love.
Be in love, and happiness...
Scheherazade of poetry, stories, and narratives,
Cleopatra, lover of the homeland, forever beloved, insightful,
my love for my homeland, my passion for my life.
 
***
 
الأديبة الشاعره الروائية مريم الصايغ
إعادة نشر وترجمة
للمقال الأصلي عام 2022
قالها القدير.. قبل كتابتها بنواميس الكون -لا تسرق- بينما أمارس أنا، فعل الستر وما أسقط ورقة توتة عورتهم الأخيرة
 
https://www.ahewar.org/debat/show.art.asp?aid
756250
 
https://www.ssrcaw.org/ar/show.art.asp?t
2&aid
756250
 
 
Cleopatra is beloved by the nation.
Shahrazad of poetry, novels and stories
Cleopatra, beloved of the nation
The orange silver moon
Goddess of the four letters
Goddess of the alphabet and insight
Goddess of the twenty-fifth hour
A diamond of Light mountain