An old man !

I believe .. there is a rose blooms in the heart of every old man !,
SO..
Yesterday I missed you
Today I missed you
Tomorrow I do NOT want to miss you !
I am still yearn for you..

Lorca, who accompanied me during the war

I am now on one of Gaza's pavements; from this point exactly the Red Crescent ambulance came and rescued us. The warplanes were striking the area. We hadn't believed the pamphlets that they had dropped on us from the air. We were looking for any simple, common saviour. We did not believe the pamphlets that had ordered us to evacuate the area, but they [the Israeli warplanes] fired at us. The sky was raining bullets, and the sea opposite our home had turned into the fire of hell on Judgment Day… The people of the area gathered at the Abraaj roundabout, and the cars and ambulances started to rescue us. I was afraid, terrified – but not because of the explosion which reverberated near me, but because of my book which I had seen recite poetry… Lorca, Lorca, Lorca…Who is the soldier whose glance killed me then? Was it a kiss, a rose, or a glance doing the work of a revolver?

Reminiscences

"I would love to know what happened to our small house which we left in Nazareth years ago… What do the hills look like now? And perhaps the scent of thyme has changed… How old my friends have grown, and I have become just a story for their children… Goodness me, I didn't even attend their weddings। I wanted to live through the stages of my life with them, and most of all I was waiting for the day on which we would learn about love and forget about games, when we'd fall in love until we became depressed। Oh dear, but the worry of love is not like the worry of [the Israeli] occupation. Now I remember…” She is always remembering.

Sweet Dreams, Gaza!

I did not receive Lisan Magazin from Switzerland,
And did not Susan Alywan books from Lebanon,
And my brother gifts from Germany,
Nothing receive me from outside of Gaza!
Normal ..
Bottle of French perfume is broken and my nephew try to drink the mercury liquid,
Milan Kundera's novels .. Are lost and do not want to retrieve them,
CDs' "Water Music" for "Handel" is fallen down in the fish pond,
Normal ..
Now my friends are reading what I write: Zahi Wehbe, Ibrahim Nasrallah, Murid Barghouti,
Fatma Qandil smiling at me and convince me that writing rearranges the world,
My friends at the university are admonishing me for the last note for some reason,
Normal ..
The electricity will be cut and return after ten hours,
I wake up with a noise motors instead of singing of the birds,
Sleep on the house's roof because of the intense heat,
Absence from my lectures so I do not know the name and form of doctors whom teaches me,
Neglect the calls and messages which I receive to my mobile and email,
Normal ..
I'm going to turn off the lamp and sleep.
Sweet Dreams.. O Gaza

Treason

Tonight I am very sad, nothing brings joy to me .. This city, looks like a woman had betrayed her beloved .. I want England now!