East Aden West Allah

Poetry prose that condensed all his defeats, disappointments, and eternal longing for freedom in the East... The streets cry out to him: don't clean us, the trees don't water us, the hungry don't feed us, the traitors don't heal us, the occupied lands don't free us. Tell the Arab revolutionaries to leave us be... His texts cast the Arab human outside the pavements of history, because they came as a witness to his time, and as a protest against all the depths of disappointments, the abysses of decline, with his delusions, his madness, his daydreams, and his predictions that, after years, proved to be like lightning warning of rain. His texts settle on the banks of Barada and hover in the atmospheres of Palestine, Iraq, Libya, and loudly scream in the prisons and detention centers of Arab countries. He scatters his words with love and sorrow for his father and mother, and the city of Smlieh, his hometown, and his friends whom he dedicated in the last part of the book with thoughts that do not cheer the soul, about the living, the dead, and the dying: Madooh Adwan – Adonis – Yusuf Al Khal – Nizar Qabbani – Suleiman Awwad – Zakaria Tamer, and others...