The Lion of Allah, Hazrat Hamza-1731

Allah's Lion, Hazrat Hamza

Abubekir Subasi

Steel Publishing House

• Language: ENGLISH
• Pages: 268
• Skin Type: Cardboard Cover
• Paper Type: Book Paper
• Size: 13 x 21 cm

Input

On the eve of mecca's unique era of bliss, one of the most imposing braves among his people was undoubtedly Hamza. Naturally, he loved hunting and adventure, bravery, never liked a stagnant life. It would have given him pleasure to be reunited with the Kaaba upon his return of prey, and to recompent him. For some reason, something would come out of you, the fat in your heart would melt.

Hamza's view of the concession on his return from this hunt was worth seeing, because this humble attitude of Hamza, a valiant who did not bow to the mountains, was even more valuable to others who were not as brave as he was. Because it would not have been so remarkable for those who had already bowed their heads in front of the Kaaba, but Hamza was not; How reverently bowed in front of the Kaaba that this head would not bow if they tied such mountains by the neck and hung them.

This time, however, something else had happened; Abu Jahil and his wife, who refused to bow before Allah, bowed their heads, which they thought would not be bowed by a good slap from Hamza, in the face of the heroism, courage and even anger of a hero who bowed his head in the presence of the Lord of the Kaaba; what a strange manifestation and hellip; Hamza had nothing financial or spiritual that he could not pay for his chastity, honor and honor.

But beyond that, he would have a higher purpose and a cause. Now he's like, "Oh, my God He was ready to devote everything to the Prophet and his cause of redemption, which was superior to all created beings.

Preface

The season of painting with ancient stone paints from the brightest part of nature is attractive, swaggering and beautiful in Istanbul, at every moment of the day, month, season and year. The sun, which recolored the face of darkness with lightning, was not yet visible, but as it sent its messengers rising with a sweet fruit on the horizon, the sky resembled the bright elvan of an atlas fabric that stood out from the pulsating battles and glowed with increasing temper.
Here are the sensual places of love and warmth, the nests birds, the tense wings of the free-to-air birds, the flowers of delicate winged colorful butterflies that flutter through the void, the flowers leaves, the silent interpreter of deep and subtle feeling, the leaves of flowers, the leaves that can remain sun-spiteful in the most heated weather, the branches of age and leaves that can remain cool invite the splendour of painting.
It's the dawn of the morning; In yesterday's horseshoes of the sun that was chasing him, he was in the dust of the earth, and his wavy silver and white began to rise through the clouds. Shortly after showing its cool beams, the sun, which finally came to life with its compassionate warmth, was re-proclaiming its sultanate in the forest of dantelas adorned with ornate stones. In fact, he branded all of his lovers, who were ready to greet him with a great debacle and nuptials, with the seal of his dazzling reign, by hitting and polishing them all with his dazzling gilded brush.
On an autumnal night that last night was buttoned up and closed, it was now opening in stages like a bride's veil forced to open by the daytime sun, and filled with the glorious light of the reign that she had brought to the news by showing her grace in the form of daytime. Streams, hills smile and embrace the cascades of light falling from the clouds, while the yellow birds of autumn; He reminded the white afternoons of winter and the green afternoons of spring, even the erguvan evenings of summer, by mixing them with enchantment from the fantasy world and ecstatic with his perî-sûret, by sneering in the mirror of the place that is his most cherished answer.
Yes, yes, it is. Istanbul... She resembled a beauty who bloomed in a fall, spreading her skirts in the splendor of the lightly choppy sea, the sûrun that reminisces about the sounds of great history, and the blue that heals the wounds of longing. Pattern pattern brushes of the floor and sky give revnak to the color of this canvas; On the one hand, the lights that came from the sky stronger every hour were getting wet in the shallow sea, and on the other hand, the steam of the seas began to dry up in the sky. But this deplusious and tandoive revolution does not hurt even the most delicate rose leaf; An ingenious, but invisible hand, shaped and polished the river of time flowing madly in a tinned copper basin.
While these fluctuations in the whole nature showed the quiet ingenuity of wrapping and tying the broken needle of a honeybee with the fine threads of the spider web, apocalypses were breaking out in every part of this world of velvele, which was invisible to the eyes but gave life to the spirits. O owner of the universe, O soul to matter, life to soul, strength to life, strength to power, and eternal power that gives it continuity! How and with what will your lovers tolerate this manifestation...
By evening, as the red evening sun buried the so-called 'today' in the tomb called 'yesterday', he said goodbye without neglecting to tie a red veil to his tomb, which he slipped quietly into. The coolness of the evening was set on the throne of a new night, pulling a black tulle over the day that left, dressed in mourning dresses and sitting on it like a sad sultan. It was as if the shepherd's star and the big bear, who guided the strange, had caught a flood called time, stretched it to a pulley, and dived into processing their own embroidery like girls watching the rhino route abroad called semâ. The mountains, on the other hand, seemed to move unimaginatively quietly, without breaking the will of the wind in the terennum of the sea waves, as if a child in the bay of darkness was trying to chew hard meat in his mouth, which had just started to appear in his mouth, but which could be called toothless.
A few friends and friends sat in a place on the edge of the Bosphorus, with chairs and tables lined under the great plane, where the glassware that came and went, the glassware that came and went, and the glassware that came and went in the embroidered copper tray of tile bowls, were seated in a place located on the edge of the Bosphorus, immersed in an insatiable conversation and old memories that were longed for. At one point, the word swirled around and came to art. There was talk of nations in the world that were successful in filmmaking, it was mentioned that there are no studies describing the thoughts and lives of nations that cannot express themselves, they are not given the chance to express themselves, but no one else will give such an opportunity. A middle-aged man who took a cup of tea from the boiling samovar by removing hard hiss like an angry viper in front of him, took his tea as if he had taken it with his hand and mixed it, then sucked a long sip out of his glass and said:
"Unfortunately we have a variety of things that are too late and have been neglected for a long time, I personally feel sad and even devastated by our omissions as owners of a very large heritage. Unfortunately, as a nation, we slept all the time in every field, others laid mattresses on us and covered us with dead soil, we always lived without our knowledge."
One of his friends found his indiscriminal:
"Why are you being so unfair to yourself and to us?"
He took a sip of his tea, recalling the 'good deed' in the case of those with deeper regrets, and continued with a little more uprightness:
"It's never fair, I'm telling the truth; How many nations can you show among the nations of the world whose history is as long, colorful and glorious as ours, full of victories and painful experiences?! But what they call foreign films and 'popular culture', which I hate even the words, has not left us with brains, nor has it left us with a national feeling in our children. For God's sake, are we to blame for any of this?!"
Another confirmed it with a slight affirming:
"You're absolutely right; The gin, evil, haunted, incensed films of the West broke the purity of our offspring's minds, placed insurmountable question marks there, and while we watched this landscape despite our disgust, the blindness of our offspring was destroyed. Now we should all feel this sense of responsibility to the finest points of our hearts; We must return to ourselves, our essence, our nation and our history. If we don't make it, we can't live as us anymore."
Instead of putting things out there, someone who likes to consume and has not been involved until then has asked as if to object, truthfully from where it sticks, spreading like gum:
"What happens when you do that, they're going to wear medals, who's going to wear them!? There's no room for employees in this country."
An empty and indisputable objection was answered as a philosopher:
"Big and important things have a lot of meaning, we have to get past the cobwebs that look like this wall. For example, how many films have we made about the unity and brotherhood of the Eastern nations, that the merciful Armenians found us just and just, and that there was no such shameful event as a massacre in the history of this beloved nation? For example, it's been over a thousand years with the Arabs that we've been together, even though we supposedly look like two different nations, we've always been together and we've never met in a major battle. So what do we have as a film that expresses common feelings? What about romania, the forgotten country of Eastern Europe, where we recently had good relations? Can a nation be so unaware of the ore in its hand?!''
Another supported him:
"You're right, unfortunately, despite such a long and intimate association with the nations with which we live post-Islamic history, we don't have a single joint history book, film or tangible work. And what happened is personal efforts that cannot help the great wound... However, we mostly have the resources to lead these things."
Most of her hair was blown away in the wind called time, and the one with the black dry, white hair said, "I'm not going to let you get away with it."
"Why bother? In a short way, moving through the female body, mixing a sense of revenge mixed with a little passion with plenty of makeup and paint in a rusty mixer; Here's a free TV show or movie. Watch, folks, don't wake up, what else do you need?! Friends, all these years we have done things that are baseless and goalless, without ideas, philosophy, without reason, hostile to spirituality, unaware of matter, and we have made the people look like ourselves, too..."
The one with the plump body and tie also took it from another angle:
"I'm looking at it a little commercially; If we could make works that fit the material we have, we'd make a lot more money than the Americans. But in every respect, our work has fallen behind even the Iranians."
"Would we really win?"
"Never exaspiration, see, let me tell you an exemplary memory: when I was in Egypt in the sixties, a Turkish film about the conquest of Istanbul came there. I knew it was going to happen to me, but I just thought I'd see it. But, unfortunately, I wasn't wrong, I was devastated by the simplicity of that film. You should've just seen the people in that movie theater; A sound of prayer, an Ottoman offensive, brought the Muslim Egyptians to their feet and whistled. There were Christians in the cinema, of course, and they went to the other side of the cinema, doing the same thing when the bells came, even taunting each other with Muslims."
And what did you do?
"I watched what he came to watch, and I couldn't even lie, and something came out of me, and I had tears in my eyes."
Everyone was moved, a lady listened to what was said until my glass was finished, and then she put it aside and said:
"By God, that's not how I looked at it. Now I understand that we've left a really big gap and a gap in that. But now is not the time to sit down and get beat up. The sooner we start the work we leave, the profit."
"Let's find something nice first."
"If we make your film, it could be something that many nations in the world will own. For example, the Prophet's uncle Hamza... I saw it in a movie and I was under its influence. It wasn't about Hamza, but he was the one who stood out the most. Because both his Muslimism and his martyrdom had an influence on people."
"Okay, what do they say?!"
He responded with a reckless attitude:
"No matter what they say, sir; Foreigners have done so much about the commonalities of us Eastern and Muslim nations so far, has anyone condemned them? Even we appreciated it when they made the films we avoided making ourselves. The men even took the world's goods... As if what they took away from oil, medicine and technology was not enough... When we make our own history, will we hear words? And what he does is he does, he talks, he speaks, the important thing is to achieve the good and the right."
The lady supported this idea:
"In my opinion, the subject of Hamza is good, let's prepare the necessary material in this regard immediately."
"What kind of material?"
"A work close to the novel style that could become a screenplay, for example, whether it was literary or by someone who knew the Arab history and life of that time."
The man who just happened to say with joy:
"Leave it to me, you take care of the rest and get ready. Just the kind of work you want will come to you very soon! Let's leave today next year to gather here again. Then I promise you that such work will come your way. Are you really in?"
The zember of time first turned yellow and faded with blood drawn on the leaves and flowers, slipped after the gazelles blown in the wind, then fell coldly on the cold ground as snow and icy rain, splashing left and right as mud when the melting began. It was then re-boiled and revived in seeds, seeds and hyacinths. And when everything was resurrected and refreshed with a fresh spring, the so-called year of time again showed its hand. After a year, they were reunited on the same day; After the nice five, eating and drinking, it was time for the study of The Prophet Hamza. The lady said, "I'm not going to let you get
"Yes, Mr. Arif; We have kept our promise, what about you?"
"Are you ready to listen to the prepared work?"
"Okay, we're ready."
"Here you go then..."