One day, passing by, someone took out the camera and the village girls started laughing. The picture is blurred, it’s shaky. The girls are in their country clothes. Time of the picture is unknown, as well as the author But the strength, the energy of the moment is still there. And it’s all in theContinue reading “In a village, one day”
Memoirs of a refugee still looking out of the same window
There is still a Country outlined by the routes of the ancient caravans of the merchants of pepper, coffee and frankincense, a Country equal to itself, a jewel shining of its own light century after century. A Country which has remained isolated being at the nib of the Arabic Peninsula, hence, preserving itself from theContinue reading “Memoirs of a refugee still looking out of the same window”
the talking of the soul 