May I choose my dreams, lest I dream of what does not come true.
As for me, I will enter the mulberry tree where the silkworm turns me into a silk thread, I will enter the needle of a woman of legends, then I will fly like a shawl with the wind.
History makes fun of its victims and their heroes.. It looks at them and passes by!
I came, but I did not arrive.. I came, but I did not return.
We will become a people when we do not recite a prayer of thanksgiving for the holy homeland, whenever the poor find his dinner.
I loved you forcibly, not because you are the most beautiful, but because you are the deepest, so a lover of beauty is usually a fool.
One day I will become what I want.. One day I will become a bird, flowing from my non-existence.. The more the wings burn, the closer I get to the truth, and I rise from the ashes.. I am the dialogue of dreamers. .I am the heavenly fugitive.
A year goes by, another comes, and everything about you gets worse, my country.
The canes of our temples and our thrones are the canes.. In every minaret there is an attacker and a usurper.. He calls for Andalus if Aleppo is besieged.
And we have no hand in nostalgia.. And in distance we had a thousand hands.. Peace be upon you, I missed you so much.. And peace be upon me as I miss!.
A country is born from the grave of a country.. Thieves worship God so that a people may worship them.. Kings forever and slaves forever.
We should not blame the suicide bombers.. We are against the suicide bombers, but we should understand what drives these young people to do these actions.. They want to free themselves from this dark life.. It's not ideology, it's despair.
Every river, has a spring, stream and life! My friend! Our land is not barren. Every land has its own birth. Every dawn has a rebellious date!
And here I am, I can live until the end of the month.. I do my best to write what convinces my heart to beat.. and what convinces my soul to live after me.. Gardenia can renew my life.. and a woman can limit myself.
In indifference is a philosophy, it is an attribute of the purity of hope.
And we have our smallest dreams, as if we wake up from sleep free from disappointment.. We didn't dream of disobedient things! We are alive and staying,, and the rest of the dream.
As if your hands are the only place.. As if your hands are a country.. Oh, from a homeland in a body.
Forgetting is training the imagination to respect reality.
There is love that passes us by, so it does not know, nor do we know.
It is my misfortune that I forgot that the night is long, and it is my good fortune that I remembered you until the morning.
They taught you to beware of joy, because its betrayal is cruel.
There is no room left in the modern language for celebration, for everything that will be was.
I don't remember my heart unless love splits it in half or dries up from the thirst of love.
I wish we could love less so as not to suffer more.
My soul is light and my body is heavy with memories and people.
I will praise this new morning. . I will forget the nights all the nights and walk to the neighbor's rose I snatch from her her way of joy.
We are the victim in which all kinds of killing have been tried.. even the latest weapons! But we are the miracle that does not die and cannot die.
The night, mother, is a hungry thug wolf that chases the stranger wherever he goes.
I know no matter how you go with the wind, how to bring you back.. I know where your farewell comes from, so I go.
Tell the absence you lacked me and I came to complete you.
How happy a person is when he does not say goodbye to anyone and does not wait for anyone.
And whenever I searched for them, I found nothing but my strange self in them.
It is okay for our past to be better than our present.. But the complete misery is for our present to be better than our tomorrow.. How vast our abyss is.
When I was thirsty, I asked for water from my enemy, but he did not hear me, so I spoke your name and quenched my thirst.
What a beautiful coincidence.. It is free from waiting.
I love talking to you even though I don't have anything to say.
Did we have to fall from a great height and see our blood on our hands to realize that we are not angels as we thought?.
The causes of death are many, including the pain of life.
We do not repent of our dreams, no matter how often they are broken.
With all my joy, I hide my tears.
I want a good heart, not stuffing a gun.
Mom.. I will not call you a woman, I will call you everything.
And you and my coffee resembled deliciousness, bitterness and addiction.
I want you with me, a fantasy that walks on two feet, and a real rock that flies with the wink of an eye.
Yesterday we lacked freedom.. Today we lacked love.. I am afraid of tomorrow because we will miss humanity.
I will always love you, departing to you.. If it is in the water, I do not fear drowning, and if it is on land, I do not fear the swords of the road.
Your eyes are windows to a dream that does not come, and in every dream I restore a dream and dream.
Oh, my arrogant wound, my homeland is not a bag, and I am not a traveller.. I am the lover and the land is a lover.
And I once told him angrily, How do you live tomorrow? He said, “I have nothing to do with my tomorrow. It is a thought that I do not have, and I am like this. Nothing will change me, just as I have not changed anything. So do not block the sun from me.
At home I sit neither happy nor sad in between.. and I don't care if I know that I am really me or no one else.
Oh death, wait for me outside the earth.. Wait for me in your country until I finish a fleeting conversation with the rest of my life.
Today I celebrate the passing of one day since the previous day.. and tomorrow I celebrate the passing of two days since yesterday.. and I drink a toast to yesterday in memory of the next day.. this is how I continue my life.
And when you think of the distant others, think of yourself.. Say, “If only I were a candle in the dark.”
I am a woman, nothing less or more, so be the measure of nostalgia if you wish.. As for me, I like to love as I am, not a colored picture in the newspaper or a melodic idea in the poem among the stags.. I hear Laila’s distant cry from the bedroom: Don’t leave me a prisoner of rhyme in the nights of the tribes .. Do not let them know that I am a woman, nothing less or more.
Between a minute I admit to forgetting and a minute I try to experience that, massacres take place inside me and they don't stop.
I fear the eyes that can penetrate my banks..the heart may see my bare feet..I fear my confession.
Record.. I am an Arab. I am a name without a surname. I live with outbursts of anger.. My roots are rooted before the birth of time and before the opening of eras.. Record, I am an Arab!
I am from there, and I have memories.. I was born as people are born.. I have a mother and a house with many windows.. I have brothers.. friends.. and a prison with a cold window.. I have a wave that was hijacked by gulls.. I have my own scene.. I have extra grass.. and I have a moon In the extremes of speech, sustenance for birds, and immortal olive trees.. I passed on the ground before the swords passed on a body that they turned into a table.
She may have died.. Death loves suddenly like me, and death like me does not like to wait.
