Nizzar Qabbani..

Loving Nizzar Qabbani is a very important part of our lives as being damascene people..
He taught us how to love and be loved..
He taught us to be humans with emotions..
He taught us to be proud of who we are.. to adore our Damascus.. and worship our identity..
We loved him through Damascus, and we loved Damascus throught him... maybe there is no different, thats why his last words were "return me to the city of Jasmine"
To your blessed soul nizzar...
and To the city of Jasmine... these are your own words:
(((My voice rings out, this time, from Damascus
It rings out from the house of my mother and father
In Sham. The geography of my body changes.
The cells of my blood become green.
My alphabet is green.
In Sham. A new mouth emerges for my mouth
A new voice emerges for my voice
And my fingers
Become a tribe
I wander in the narrow alleys of Damascus.
Behind the windows, honeyed eyes awake
And greet me . . .
The stars wear their gold bracelets
And greet me
And the pigeons alight from their towers
And greet me
And the clean Shami cats come out
Who were born with us . . .
Grew up with us . . .
And married with us . . .
To greet me . . .
The Damascene House
Is beyond the architectural text
The design of our homes . . .
Is based on an emotional foundation
For every house leans . . . on the hip of another
And every balcony . . .
Extends its hand to another facing it
Damascene houses are loving houses . . .
They greet one another in the morning . . .
And exchange visits . . .
Secretly?at night . . .
So People of Sham
He among you who finds me . . .
let him return me to Umm Mu?ataz
And God?s reward will be his
I am your green sparrow . . . People of Sham
So he among you who finds me . . .
let him feed me a grain of wheat . . .
I am your Damascene rose . . . People of Sham
So he among you who finds me . . .
let him place me in the first vase . . .
I am your mad poet . . . People of Sham
So he among you who sees me . . .
let him take a souvenir photograph of me
Before I recover from my enchanting insanity . . .
I am your fugitive moon . . . People of Sham
So he among you who sees me . . .
Let him donate to me a bed . . . and a wool blanket . . .
Because I haven?t slept for centuries)))

Nizzar Qabbani...