Nawar Al-Luz - Wassini Al-Araj

What, O Al-Saleh, O last generation of Banu Hilal, O wheat of Biluoni, you have begun to rot forcibly and all the beautiful things that martyrs planted in your heart and a lifetime of sadness have fallen from your eyes. What remains for you from Abu Zaid Al-Hilali besides the inheritance of the sword that knows no growth, smuggling, or hunger, and the empty fantasy and your honesty that no longer has any value? No, the world is not like that. The soil that burned my fingers and filled its thorns with my feet and eyes did not teach me lying nor even thinking about it, only in extreme necessity, but it taught me burning, my brother, and everything that drives a person to carry out execution in himself as quickly as possible. The story, O Saleh, O beauty… we have transmitted it with difficulty from those who preceded us in testimony, and by the right of my head, the returnee, and the eyes of Longa the marine, and her black hair with which the knights of love and the cavalry of the extinct crisis have adorned, the soil in which I grew up taught me masculinity and tempted me to commit sins and foolishnesses. It is narrated, O good gentlemen, and the trust is on my master, the Tunisian. The story of Nawar Al-Luz: The exile of Saleh bin Aamer Al-Zafouri Writer: Waciny Abou Al-Araj