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Monday, December 25, 2006

Happy Holidays


May this holiday season be filled with peace and contentment for all.
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all the blessings and joy to you, your family and loved ones. And smiles rise on the faces of children suffering in Iraq, Palestine and all over the world.. Amen
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A very Merry Christmas to all of you
God bless

Friday, December 22, 2006

To the man in my life



I know we don’t speak to each other much, and I know we can be so distant sometimes not In presence but in sharing emotions ... even though you’ve been pampering me and I’ll always be your spoiled child , I know I’ll stay that little girl in your eyes.
I only want you to know a few things…


I honor and respect you so very much am so proud of you even though I may not have told you often enough.
You taught me the values of a family.
If not for you always being so patient i don’t know that I'd be as strong and capable of handling life
I always valued your opinions and sly comments even though I didn’t show that I do.
I know i never told you enough that I loved you but I think we both knew that we didn't need words to understand one another.

I remember that day when it was my birthday
And I went so upset because you haven’t remember it…and out of sudden I get this message from you saying” Happy Birthday to the best thing that happened in my life” Dad I burst into tears then…

I hope I can make you proud of me as I am so proud of you..

THANK YOU Father.
Thank you for everything you did for me

Thank you for all your love and concern you gave me
Thank you that you exist in my Life.


Happy Birthday Baba
الله يخليلي ياك و يطولي بعمرك يا أحسن أب بالدنية كلها....بحبك
Your loving daughter


P.S: I hope you wont browse a lot through my blog, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t read or know about hehe kidding I love you


Saturday, December 09, 2006

With or without you...



Have you ever felt that you want to be with someone but at the same time you cannot.
Lots of reasons stands there … oh well just a passing by thought I cannot specify more…

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
With or without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And Im waiting for you
With or without you
With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
And you give yourself away
My hands are tied
My body bruised, shes got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose

With or without you
I cant live
With or without you
Lyrics by U2

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Bara and Serjela

An Archeological Spot located in Mountain Al Zawyah to the southeast of Edleb with a distance of 34 km
and located to the southwest of Aleppo with a distance of 93km

its considered to be the largest collection of archeologic ruins that ascends from Roman Byzantine and Arab periods , some says that its historical founding’s ascends from even older epochs.




The name Bara was found engraved in a stone discovered in a monastery to the east of Bara , and according to some syriac scripts Bara was called Kafar Adberta .

some studies and researches pointed out that the oldest construction in it ascends to the Roman era A.D. second century.

When the Roman empire was spelt into 2 parts, Bara was to the east part of the empire
And it was transformed after wards into the Byzantine state .




Bara was a subordinate to the administration of Apamea ( Afamia) in the Byzantine era even though the relation with The Antioch was stronger.

In the year 614 A.D Bara as many other Syrian cities was subjected to the attacks of the Persians. and In the year 637 Arabs liberated Syria from the Byzantine Reign.
The people of Bara was ruled then by The Arab reign and they had lots of privileges so their city prospered and extended. And as Bara was a well strategically set the Byzantines and also the Romans were always aiming to take control of it again. But finally in the Year 1148 was totally controlled by arabs and away from all foreign Danger.




We can find in Bara : wingers , churches, monasteries, cemeteries and tombs , fortes, Mosques, and lots of scripts.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Thank you

Thanks to all who remembered me and sent me greetings through emails. Sms’s, phone calls, and personally

Muhannad You were the 1st and you’ll always be the 1st in my life….
Farah you are more than a sister to me
Motaseem I cannot be mad with you for long… you made my day
Hasan and Saeed…I thank god there still is such amazing people like both of you my friends
Hamdi...can’t wait for you to get back
Samaw’al and Roeeya…thanks for being there
Nidal and Laila…you guys are the closest to my heart love ya…
Haya… even though you were late many thanks…I really miss ya like hell
Raniah…you can’t imagine my thrill hearing your voice from that distance…love you so much, you’re the best.
Diana…we can be so distant for a long time but also so close in just a glance. Thank u.
Andreea…I really wished you were here I miss you so so so much.
Petra….Please say you’ll be back before the new year I miss you
Abu Fares…its really an Honor for me to know such an extraordinary person.

Sam, Hadil, Majd, Sami, Ahmad, Ola and all whom I forgot to mention thanks form the bottom of my heart….

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Life goes on!!!

So You lose someone so dear …so what life goes on!
You lost your money in bad business….so what life goes on!
You favorite team lost the game… so what life goes on!
You drop ketchup on your favorite dress… life goes on!
You didn’t pass the exam…life goes on!
You break up with your love one…life goes on!

The common comment that people leave….
But On the other hand


You see innocent people dying everyday…
Destruction within human hands
Sick children starving …
Hypocrites ruling the world…
Abhorrence and hatred among us…
Disasters and catastrophes…
Crimes Rape and murder …
Drugs, violence, diseases…


I wonder if life still goes on?
Is it Fair?

Thursday, November 02, 2006

November thoughts...My time of year

          Actually the word of it sounds so gloomy and blue, fall can be depressing to some people but it isn’t for me and sometimes a smile hides a deep sorrow and not vice versa have you thought of it?

          blue feelings hovers around in a smooth way Maybe it’s the cold hard rain that comes and goes; in between, distant voices.

          Life is such a quirky clutter of impressions, sublime simples,flowing to and from, from breath to death, elusive as mountains,as solid as the wind - never centered. Pieces upon pieces,moans and groans, songs and sighs, till we leave alone.

          I wish I could hug you
          Sing you a song
          Make you laugh
          And void the sadness in your eyes

          When I look into your eyes

          I can see a love restrained

          But darlin' when I hold you

          Don't you know I feel the same

          'Cause nothin' lasts forever

          And we both know hearts can change

          And it's hard to hold a candle

          In the cold November rain.

          - Guns N' Roses, November Rain


                          I love November Like I love you, Like thunder that’s hidden by night like lightening I’m suddenly Bright :)
                                                                          • Facts:

                                                                          • November begins in western tropical astrology with the sun in the sign of Scorpio which is my sign and ends in the sign of Sagittarius Astronomically speaking, the sun actually begins in the constellation of Libra , passes through Scorpius from approximately the 24th through the 29th and ends in the constellation of Ophiuchus, which is the only zodiacal constellation that is not associated with an astrological sign

                                                                          • November begins on the same day of the week as March every year and also February except in leap years

                                                                          • November in Northen Hemisphere is the seasonal equivalant to May in the Southern Hemisphere and vice versa.

                                                                          I was born in November what a bless , maybe that’s why I’m so fond of it

                                                                          Happy Blessed November everyone :)

                                                                          Monday, October 16, 2006

                                                                          The Rain did come

                                                                          I love the rain. The sound of it tapping on the roofs and windows
                                                                          The smell of it emerging with the earth…the color of it on tress grass and flowers
                                                                          The spirit it gives when feeling down. The good it makes when washing away the pain
                                                                          The rain did come for once rightly, the rain did come…



                                                                          Friday, October 13, 2006

                                                                          Contradictions:



                                                                          I love you so, but not in love with you.
                                                                          I want your friendship, love and your desire.
                                                                          I would not lead you falsely or betray you.
                                                                          I feel the tenderness, but scared of the fire.
                                                                          I have no reason for my lack of yearning,
                                                                          No explanation for what I don't feel,
                                                                          No other love to whom I might be turning,
                                                                          No anguish to suggest this isn't real.
                                                                          Passion is a horse that knows no master,
                                                                          And I cannot with fences make it stay.
                                                                          It must run free towards daylight or disaster,
                                                                          Awake to glory in no other way.
                                                                          So I must say what you don't want to hear
                                                                          Time will give and we will prosper ,
                                                                          But it's a truth that both of us must bear.

                                                                          Wednesday, September 20, 2006

                                                                          Explaining God

                                                                          It's no use asking for explanations about God. You might hear lovely words,
                                                                          but deep down they are all empty phrases. Just as you can read a whole
                                                                          encyclopedia about love and not know what it is to
                                                                          love. No-one is ever going to manage to prove that
                                                                          God exists, or that he doesn't exist. Certain things in life were made to be
                                                                          experienced, but never explained.
                                                                          One of these things is love. God - who is love - is another. Faith is a
                                                                          childish experience, in that magical sense.
                                                                          Jesus Said: "The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to the
                                                                          children."


                                                                          The three stories that follow speak of how innocent the search is:

                                                                          Beginning at the beginning

                                                                          A man asked al-Husayn:
                                                                          - What do I have to do to be closer to
                                                                          God?
                                                                          - Tell Him a secret. And don't let anyone in the world know what the secret
                                                                          is. In that way a bond of trust will be established with the
                                                                          Divine.
                                                                          But the man went on:
                                                                          - Only that will help me get closer?
                                                                          - Establish a firm relation at the start of your spiritual journey. Pray.
                                                                          It's also important to have will power. And if it's possible to enjoy a little
                                                                          solitude, all the better.
                                                                          - But how do I reach the ideal stage of communicating with
                                                                          Him? -
                                                                          - I have already explained all that you need - said al-Husayn. - But
                                                                          you want to reach the end before you even begin, and that is just not
                                                                          possible.

                                                                          Loving without fear

                                                                          A pilgrim arrived at the village where Abu Yazid al-Bistrami
                                                                          lived.
                                                                          - Teach me the quickest way to reach
                                                                          God.
                                                                          Al-Bistrami answered:
                                                                          - Love Him with all your strength.
                                                                          - That I already do.
                                                                          - Then you need to be loved by the
                                                                          others.
                                                                          - But why?
                                                                          - Because God looks at the hearts of all men. When He visits yours He will
                                                                          surely see the love you have for Him and He will be happy. However, if He also
                                                                          finds your name written with affection in the hearts of others, He will
                                                                          certainly pay far more attention to you.

                                                                          Wanting to take a short
                                                                          cut

                                                                          - Why do you make us waste time looking for God when you know Him so
                                                                          well?
                                                                          - said a disciple of Hasan de Basra. - You could tell us what He is
                                                                          like.
                                                                          - Yes - answered Hasan de Basra. - But it so happens that one afternoon I
                                                                          was standing in front of a swamp when I noticed a man getting ready to cross it.
                                                                          I shouted out: "Careful there, you could slip on a rock and get all
                                                                          wet!"
                                                                          - The man answered back: "If that happens, I will be the only one to get
                                                                          dirty. So, Hasan, if you slip and fall in your path, all your disciples will
                                                                          slip and fall with you."
                                                                          "At that moment I understood: God is an individual challenge, each person
                                                                          is responsible for his own search. A master can share his experience, but never
                                                                          the results."


                                                                          By Paulo Coelho Warrior of the Light

                                                                          Sunday, September 10, 2006

                                                                          A day in the Park ( Cismigiu )

                                                                          In the heart of the Romanian Capital Bucharest lays a large oasis the( Cismigiu Park) it is known as the oldest public park in Bucharest. Modeled on the Parisian Jardin des Plantes by German Carl Meyer in 1830, with alleys surrounding a nice lake which features a enchanting water-fountain and boat-renting the park is split into a formal section and a romantic section. It is also known as the Lovers' park. because its considered a place of meeting for lovers any pair of lovers have kissed at least once on the lover-ally unfortunately I haven’t capture any photos of young lovers kissing for it was too rude for me to intrude :)



                                                                          I’m actually in love with this park and I go there often with a book and my Ipod just relaxing on bench surrounded by those pretty gardens with plenty of flowers, trees, and wonderful foliage. You might close your eyes. Or watch the passers-by. Or the old people chatting or the lovers. Or play chess. Or even have a drink and a bite to eat in a terrace on the miniature lake.



                                                                          For my luck this time I encountered 2 pairs of new weds on a photo session, for its kind of new trend to take your wedding photos in the park surrounded by trees fountains and flowers. I snicked around and took a photo but please excuse my lousy resolution because I took the shoots with my mobile phone cam.

                                                                          http://www.flickr.com/photos/93315071@N00/238726186/

                                                                          another pairs rushing to the party :)

                                                                          http://www.flickr.com/photos/93315071@N00/238726189/

                                                                          And as I walk around I hear this beautiful music playing on the other side of the park so me and my curious nose approach the spot where the music is coming from. And find a little square where a little band formed of a guitar player and accordion player performing a rhythmatic tango and young and elder couples dancing with eurhythmic steps I was content and so stirred away watching those couples dancing and listings to the nice music.

                                                                          http://www.flickr.com/photos/93315071@N00/238726192/

                                                                          http://sassy79.jeeran.com/dance2.JPG

                                                                          http://sassy79.jeeran.com/dance1.JPG

                                                                          well i had just another wonderful day in the Park

                                                                          Tuesday, September 05, 2006

                                                                          Tagged de nouveau :)

                                                                          Okay Abu Fares here you go your nice questions i really enjoyed answering :




                                                                          1.Which is the single best post you’ve read on any blog? Please provide link.

                                                                          A. That’s a hard one really because I read many good posts but I’ll give A link I like ANYWAY

                                                                          http://colorfulsyria.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!F3D4B517D834546A!460.entry


                                                                          2. Which is the best post you’ve written? Which is your worst? Please provide links.

                                                                          A. Okay all of my posts are just great ( being modest) no really well I have days of bad writing and days of good writing

                                                                          Bas the one I love the most is this one
                                                                          http://syrianita.blogspot.com/2006/02/home-sweet-home.html

                                                                          the one I hate is

                                                                          http://syrianita.blogspot.com/2006/02/wee-wee-wee.html



                                                                          3. How about a place you’ve never been to but would very much like to see.

                                                                          A. Well I want to see south america (cancun, machu picchu, Rio de janeiro, san paulo...) lots of places to be seen there



                                                                          4. If you were a member of the opposite sex, what would you have done differently?

                                                                          A. mmmmmm I would want be super man and save the world



                                                                          5. Do you remember a childhood recurrent dream or nightmare? Good or bad, tell us about it.

                                                                          A. yea and I still have it its kind of nightmare…me in this Gothic huge hotel with lots of corridors and halls and me always trying to take the elevator to go to this certain room….but I always end up stuck in the elevator and it cracks down and starts to fall with me in it. I see the same hotel every time but sometimes with different ppl in it... scary huh



                                                                          6. Make me laugh or make me cry, put your words to use.

                                                                          A. I choose to make you laugh with this photo I found around
                                                                          It just a note a shopkeeper left


                                                                          http://elgolden.net/gallery/albums/uploaded/image001_2.jpg


                                                                          7. Do you regret the unfulfilled dreams, the inaccessible roads, the uncharted lands?

                                                                          A.never regreted anything, I still have the whole life so I better fullfill my dreams access all roads and discover new lands. cuz then I will really regret I didn’t



                                                                          8. What is a friend to you? And what are you to a friend?

                                                                          A. a friend for me is someone whom I dare to be myself with, is someone I cannot live without a friend is someone who is there for me not only in good times. A friend is someone I cherish and trust my whole life.

                                                                          As for what I am for a friend. I’m the shoulder to lean on in hard times
                                                                          Im the smile he seeks when feeling down.

                                                                          Actually I have a few good good friends but I know they treasure me and I do the same and that what matters.


                                                                          9. T.S. Eliot measured his life with coffee spoons, how about you?

                                                                          A. well I’m no T.S. Eliot so I have to say that I measure it with the simple stages of life


                                                                          10. Write your own epitaph, or if that is too hard, how would you like your epitaph to read?

                                                                          A. smile…for here lies a person that knew how to smile once
                                                                          and please sing her a song before you leave



                                                                          P.S: i forgot to forward the tag so i'm tagging :
                                                                          Adam
                                                                          Jacob from dotDecay
                                                                          Highlander
                                                                          Sam
                                                                          Hattori
                                                                          And Bilal


                                                                          enjoy...

                                                                          Friday, September 01, 2006

                                                                          The Lake House



                                                                          So I managed to go to the movies today and we were foggy about whether to watch Pirates of the Caribbean: dead men’s chest or The Lake House…okay Johnny Depp is very intriguing but on the other hand also Keanu Reeves is. So as we were all a bunch of desolated girls hehe ( not really) we choose to enter the more Romantic one.

                                                                          The Lake House, I would never regret I went to watch it because it was GREAT
                                                                          I can say that every girl in the theater were crying and of course i was one of them hehe

                                                                          Dr. Kate Foster ( Sandra Bullock) wanted a little change in her life so she leaves her rented house lake and head for Chicago where she got hired in the busy hospital of Chicago, and feels sorry cuz she left the house, for it was like a sanctuary for her…
                                                                          But then a stranger took her place in it , a frustrated architect Alex ( Keanu Reeves) finds a letter left by Kate there…




                                                                          And a correspondence starts

                                                                          Just for the sake of our conversation: what day are you at
                                                                          there??
                                                                          14 April 2004
                                                                          No! its 14 April 2006
                                                                          Same day but at a distance of
                                                                          2 years
                                                                          Could this thing be happening????

                                                                          Could those strangers meet one day??


                                                                          Its about Love its about how you should wait for the right moment in life and not be irrational, because everybody got the right time or moment in life
                                                                          It is sweet smart and well crafted I have yearned for a movie like that with simplicity and decency.

                                                                          Its just amazing :)

                                                                          Thursday, August 31, 2006

                                                                          Because of you - Kelly Clarkson



                                                                          I will not make the same mistakes that you did

                                                                          I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery

                                                                          I will not break the way you did

                                                                          You fell so hard I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far

                                                                          Because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalk

                                                                          Because of you I learned to play on the safe side

                                                                          So I don't get hurt

                                                                          Because of you I find it hard to trust

                                                                          Not only me, but everyone around me

                                                                          Because of you I am afraid I lose my way

                                                                          And it's not too long before you point it out

                                                                          I cannot cry Because I know that's weakness in your eyes

                                                                          I'm forced to fake, a smile, a laugh

                                                                          Every day of my life

                                                                          My heart can't possibly break

                                                                          When it wasn't even whole to start with

                                                                          I watched you die

                                                                          I heard you cry

                                                                          Every night in your sleep

                                                                          I was so young

                                                                          You should have known better than to lean on me

                                                                          You never thought of anyone else

                                                                          You just saw your pain And now

                                                                          I cry In the middle of the night

                                                                          For the same damn thing

                                                                          Because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalk

                                                                          Because of you I learned to play on the safe side So I don't get hurt

                                                                          Because of you I tried my hardest just to forget everything

                                                                          Because of you I don't know how to let anyone else in

                                                                          Because of you I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty

                                                                          Because of you I am afraid

                                                                          Saturday, August 26, 2006

                                                                          Together


                                                                          Please let us sing together flooding the dolorously atmosphere with the fawning passion in our voice,
                                                                          As long as we sing I promise you that we will both sing together permeating the gloomy ambience withthe intriguingly cheerful rhythm in our voice.
                                                                          Please let us smile together enlightening the lives of our falling friends with optimistic rays of hope,
                                                                          As long as we smile I promise you that we will both smile together profoundly admiring the glory of the stupendously brilliant Sun.
                                                                          Please let us breathe together painting the gloomy carpets of air with our wildly bubbly tunes spawning new life into the countless as every instant unveiled,
                                                                          As long as we breathe I promise you that we will both breathe together inhale blissful wind incessantly deluging our lungs with all the fresh breath that wecould save from the atmosphere.
                                                                          Please let us fantasize together conceiving the most electrifying beauty overwhelming this enormous Universe catapulting into a land as enchanting as the divine,
                                                                          As long as we dream I promise you that we will both dream together fantasize the most bizarre possible of things ever perceived on this planet philander every second into a garden overwhelmed with poignantly scented roses.
                                                                          Please let us embrace together incarcerating our recklessly rising flames in our body as one under torrential cloudbursts of rain,
                                                                          As long as we embrace I promise you that we will both embrace together twist our arms invincibly and stare unrelentingly at the pearly island of Moon.

                                                                          Tuesday, August 08, 2006

                                                                          The Book Fair


                                                                          On the 3rd of august the Assad Library courtyard hosted the opening of The twenty-second International book exhibition and it lasts until the 11th of the same month.

                                                                          The exhibition is accompanied by a multi activity includes lectures and poetry readings.
                                                                          And it includes a lecture by Dr.Ahmed Berqaoui titled ( Arabs and current questions)
                                                                          A lecture by Dr. Tayeb Tizini titled ( Arab culture and its place in Human culture) and a poetry reading by the great poet Suliman al essa. It also includes activities of Dr. Riyad Nassan Agha the Minister of culture and Dr. Buthaina Shaaban Minister of expatriates. And also a lecture by the litterateur Walid Ikhlasi.

                                                                          And two poetry readings for the late poet and writer Mamdouh Edwan, and an evening about the Intellectual property rights between law and practice involving Rabee Khashaneh, Adnan Salim and George Jabbour.


                                                                          Furthermore There is an information center inside the exhibition for media correspondents. And its noteworthy that the administration did not prevent any book from being exhibited expect for the lousy ones and that it is ready to receive any complaints from visitors.


                                                                          the countries participating in the exhibition this year amounted to 21 including 12 Arab and 9 foreign as well many organizations and international centers. The number of publishing houses participating are more than 4000 house and the number of titles are about 43000 issued and printed over the past five years.

                                                                          The whole aim of the exhibition is to enrich the cultural arab scene and to find new mechanisms for developing intellectual networking between Arab peoples and the world.

                                                                          Tuesday, July 25, 2006

                                                                          The Face of Qana

                                                                          وجهُ قانا..
                                                                          شاحبٌ كما وجهُ يسوع
                                                                          وهواءُ البحرِ في نيسانَ،
                                                                          أمطارُ دماءٍ ودموع...
                                                                          دخلوا قانا على أجسادِنا
                                                                          يرفعون العلمَ النازيَّ في أرضِ الجنوب
                                                                          ويعيدونَ فصولَ المحرقة..
                                                                          هتلرٌ أحرقهم في غرفِ الغاز
                                                                          وجاؤوا بعدهُ كي يحرقونا
                                                                          هتلرٌ هجّرهم من شرقِ أوروبا
                                                                          وهم من أرضِنا هجّرونا
                                                                          هتلرٌ لم يجدِ الوقتَ لكي يمحقَهمْ
                                                                          ويريحَ الأرضَ منهم..
                                                                          فأتوا من بعدهِ كي يمحقونا!!
                                                                          دخلوا قانا كأفواجِ ذئابٍ جائعة..
                                                                          يشعلونَ النّار في بيتِ المسيح
                                                                          ويدوسونَ على ثوبِ الحسين
                                                                          وعلى أرضِ الجنوب الغالي..

                                                                          قصفوا الحنطةَ والزيتونَ والتبغَ
                                                                          ،وأصواتَ البلابل..
                                                                          .قصفوا قدموسَ في مركبهِ..
                                                                          قصفوا البحرَ وأسرابَ النوارس..
                                                                          قصفوا حتى المشافي والنساءَ المرضعات
                                                                          وتلاميذَ المدارس.
                                                                          قصفوا سحرَ الجنوبيّات
                                                                          واغتالوا بساتينَ العيونِ العسلية!
                                                                          ... ورأينا الدمعَ في جفنِ عليٍّ
                                                                          وسمعنا صوتهُ وهوَ يصلّي
                                                                          تحولات أمطارِ سماءٍ دامية..

                                                                          كشفت قانا الستائر...
                                                                          ورأينا أمريكا ترتدي معطفَ حاخامٍ يهوديٍّ عتيق
                                                                          وتقودُ المجزرة.
                                                                          .تطلقُ النارَ على أطفالنا دونَ سبب..
                                                                          وعلى زوجاتنا دونَ سبب
                                                                          وعلى أشجارنا دونَ سبب
                                                                          وعلى أفكارنا دونَ سبب
                                                                          فهل الدستورُ في سيّدة العالم.
                                                                          .بالعبريِّ مكتوبٌ لإذلالِ العرب؟؟
                                                                          هل على كلِّ رئيسٍ حاكمٍ في أمريكا..
                                                                          إذا أرادَ الفوزَ في حلمِ الرئاسةِ
                                                                          قتلَنا، نحنُ العرب؟؟
                                                                          انتظرنا عربياً واحداً
                                                                          يسحبُ الخنجرَ من رقبتنا..
                                                                          انتظرنا هاشمياً واحداً..
                                                                          انتظرنا قُرشياًَ واحداً..
                                                                          دونكشوتاًَ واحداً.
                                                                          .قبضاياً واحداً لم يقطعوا شاربهُ..
                                                                          انتظرنا خالداً أو طارقاً أو عنتره..
                                                                          فأكلنا ثرثره...
                                                                          وشربنا ثرثره..
                                                                          أرسلوا فاكساً إلينا..
                                                                          استلمنا نصَّهُ
                                                                          بعدَ تقديمِ التعازي..
                                                                          وانتهاءِ المجزرة!

                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ إسرائيلُ من صرخاتنا؟
                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ من "فاكساتنا"؟
                                                                          فجهادُ "الفاكسِ" من أبسطِ أنواعِ الجهاد..
                                                                          هوَ نصٌّ واحدٌ نكتبهُ
                                                                          لجميعِ الشهداءِ الراحلين
                                                                          وجميع الشهداءِ القادمين..!

                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ إسرائيلُ من ابن المقفّع؟
                                                                          وجريرٍ.. والفرزدق..؟
                                                                          ومن الخنساءِ تلقي شعرها عند بابِ المقبره..
                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ من حرقِ الإطارات..؟
                                                                          وتوقيعِ البيانات؟
                                                                          وتحطيمِ المتاجر؟
                                                                          وهي تدري أننا لم نكُن يوماً ملوكَ الحربِ..
                                                                          بل كنّا ملوكَ الثرثرة..

                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ من قرقعةِ الطبلِ..
                                                                          ومن شقِّ الملاءات.. ومن لطمِ الخدود؟
                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ من أخبارِ عادٍ وثمود؟؟

                                                                          نحنُ في غيبوبةٍ قوميةٍ
                                                                          ما استلمنا منذُ أيامِ الفتوحاتِ بريداً..

                                                                          نحنُ شعبٌ من عجين
                                                                          كلّما تزدادُ إسرائيلُ إرهاباً وقتلاً
                                                                          نحنُ نزدادُ ارتخاءً.. وبرودا..

                                                                          وطنٌ يزدادُ ضيقاً
                                                                          لغةٌ قطريةٌ تزدادُ قبحاً
                                                                          وحدةٌ خضراءُ تزداد انفصالاً
                                                                          شجرٌ يزدادُ في الصّيف قعوداً..
                                                                          وحدودٌ كلّما شاءَ الهوى تمحو حدودا..!

                                                                          كيفَ إسرائيلُ لا تذبحنا؟
                                                                          كيفَ لا تلغي هشاماً، وزياداً، والرشيدا؟
                                                                          وبنو تغلبَ مشغولون في نسوانهم..
                                                                          .وبنو مازنَ مشغولونَ في غلمانهم..
                                                                          وبنو هاشمَ يرمونَ السّراويلَ على أقدامها..
                                                                          ويبيحونَ شِفاهاً ونهودا؟؟!

                                                                          ما الذي تخشاهُ إسرائيلُ من بعضِ العربْ...
                                                                          بعدما صاروا يهودا؟

                                                                          نزار قباني لندن 1996


                                                                          Translation
                                                                          The face of Qana
                                                                          Pale, like that of
                                                                          Jesus
                                                                          and the sea breeze of April...
                                                                          Rains of blood.. and
                                                                          tears..


                                                                          They entered Qana stepping on our charred
                                                                          bodies
                                                                          Raising a Nazi flag
                                                                          in the lands of the
                                                                          South
                                                                          and rehearsing its stormy chapters
                                                                          Hitler cremated them
                                                                          in the gas chambers
                                                                          and they came after him to burn us
                                                                          Hitler
                                                                          kicked them out of Eastern Europe
                                                                          and they kicked us out of our
                                                                          lands


                                                                          They entered Qana
                                                                          Like hungry
                                                                          wolves
                                                                          Putting to fire the house of the Messiah
                                                                          Stepping on
                                                                          the dress of Hussain
                                                                          and the dear land of the
                                                                          South


                                                                          Blasted Wheat, Olive-trees and Tobacco
                                                                          and
                                                                          the melodies of the nightingale
                                                                          Blasted Cadmus in his
                                                                          bark
                                                                          Blasted sea and the gulls
                                                                          Blasted even
                                                                          hospitals
                                                                          even nursing moms
                                                                          and schoolboys
                                                                          Blasted
                                                                          the beauty of the Southern women
                                                                          and murdered the gardens of the
                                                                          honeyed eyes


                                                                          We saw the tears in Ali's eyes
                                                                          We
                                                                          heard his voice as he prayed
                                                                          under the rain of bloody
                                                                          skies


                                                                          Who ever will write about the history of
                                                                          Qana
                                                                          Will inscribe in his parchments
                                                                          This was the second
                                                                          Karbala


                                                                          Qana unveiled what was hidden
                                                                          We saw
                                                                          America
                                                                          Wearing the old coat of a Jewish Rabbi
                                                                          Leading the
                                                                          slaughter
                                                                          Blasting our children for no reason
                                                                          Blasting our
                                                                          wives for no reason
                                                                          Blasting our trees for no reason
                                                                          Blasting
                                                                          our thoughts for no reason
                                                                          Has it been decreed in her
                                                                          constitution,
                                                                          She, America, mistress of the world,
                                                                          In Hebrew
                                                                          .. that she should humble us al-Arab?


                                                                          Has it been decreed
                                                                          that each time a ruler in America
                                                                          wants to win the presidency that he
                                                                          should kill us ..
                                                                          We al Arab?


                                                                          We waited for one
                                                                          Arab to come
                                                                          pull this thorny prick from our necks
                                                                          We waited
                                                                          for single Qureishite
                                                                          A single Hashemite
                                                                          A single Don
                                                                          Quixote
                                                                          A single local hero, for whom they did not shave the
                                                                          moustache
                                                                          We waited for a Khalid .. Tariq .. or
                                                                          Antara
                                                                          We were eaten chatter (while engaged in vain talk)
                                                                          They
                                                                          sent a fax
                                                                          We read its text
                                                                          after paying
                                                                          tribute
                                                                          and the end of the slaughter


                                                                          What does Israel
                                                                          fear from our cries?
                                                                          What does she fear from our faxes?
                                                                          The
                                                                          Jihad of the fax is the weakest of Jihads
                                                                          It is a single text we
                                                                          write
                                                                          for all the martyrs who left
                                                                          and all the martyrs those
                                                                          who will come


                                                                          What does Israel fear from Ibn
                                                                          al-Muqaffa'?
                                                                          Jarir and .. Farazdaq?
                                                                          And Khansa throwing her
                                                                          poems at the gates of the cemetery
                                                                          What does she fear if we burn
                                                                          tires
                                                                          Sign communiqués
                                                                          And destroy shops
                                                                          And she
                                                                          knows that we have never been kings of war
                                                                          But were kings of
                                                                          chatters


                                                                          What does Israel fear
                                                                          from the beating of the
                                                                          drums
                                                                          the tearing of clothes
                                                                          and the scratching of
                                                                          cheeks
                                                                          What does she fear
                                                                          when she hears
                                                                          the stories of `Ad
                                                                          and Thamud?

                                                                          We are in national comma
                                                                          We did not
                                                                          receive
                                                                          Since the times of conquest
                                                                          a single
                                                                          mail


                                                                          We are a people of made of dough
                                                                          The more
                                                                          Israel increases in her killing and terrorism
                                                                          the more we increase in
                                                                          idleness and coldness

                                                                          A Smothering Dominion
                                                                          A regional dialect
                                                                          that increases in ugliness
                                                                          and a green union that grows in
                                                                          isolation
                                                                          Summer trees, growing barren
                                                                          And borders .. whenever
                                                                          the whim strikes
                                                                          erase other borders


                                                                          Israel should
                                                                          slaughter us, and why not?
                                                                          She should erase Hisham, Ziyad and
                                                                          ar-Rashid, and why not?
                                                                          [Why not?] and the Banu Taghlab lusting after
                                                                          their women
                                                                          [Why not?] and Banu Mazen lusting after their slave
                                                                          boys
                                                                          [Why not?] and Banu Adnan dropping their trousers to their
                                                                          knees
                                                                          debating .. necking and .. the lips!

                                                                          What should
                                                                          Israel fear from some of al-Arab
                                                                          When they became
                                                                          Yehuda??
                                                                          ?
                                                                          Nizar Qabbani 1996

                                                                          Wednesday, July 19, 2006

                                                                          Israel's crimes

                                                                          Israel's crimes

                                                                          This blog created mainly to tell the world about the continuous crimes done by so called "Israel" against the Arab in Palestine , Lebanon, Syria, Jordan , Egypt and every where in the world. No long stories here, no useless debates. By pictures only you will see the ugly true face of those "people" and you will discover what an immoral moment in the humankind history , when the Western countries allow to this cancer to start.


                                                                          thanks to truth...

                                                                          Tuesday, July 18, 2006

                                                                          Syrian Bloggers: Today, We Are All Lebanese



                                                                          Today, we are all lebanese

                                                                          Lebanon has been sentenced to death. On Wednesday 12 July, she was put in prison, and now she's being tortured.Israel's war is with Lebanon's civilians. Nearly every person killed has been a civilian. Power stations, bridges and petrol stations have been targeted.

                                                                          Israel has warned residents to get out of certain villages, but bombed roads to make it difficult - and refugee convoys have been picked out for deadly air raids.And getting out of the country is impossible now too. The airport has been destroyed, the sea ports are blockaded, and the border posts and highways have been razed to the ground.

                                                                          Lebanon is held hostage to the angry Israeli war machine. And now more than ever, Syrians bloggers, just like every Syrian stand by her.Another generation of Lebanese will know nothing but war.


                                                                          We can't let this happen, Again.

                                                                          Sunday, July 16, 2006

                                                                          الله ينصركن



                                                                          لبنان قلوبنا و عقولنا معك
                                                                          يارب احمي أهلنا بلبنان وكل بلد بينذكر فيه اسمك
                                                                          يارب كون معنا ولا تكن علينا و وفقنا لنفعل كل ما نستطيع من أجل نصرة اخوننا و اهلنا بكل بقاع الأرض

                                                                          Lebanon in Our heart

                                                                          Saturday, July 08, 2006

                                                                          ...

                                                                          What do you do
                                                                          For me
                                                                          With me
                                                                          To me?
                                                                          You send
                                                                          SilverSparkle
                                                                          ThunderMoonlight
                                                                          SunshineShivers
                                                                          Through
                                                                          And through
                                                                          And through me…

                                                                          Wednesday, July 05, 2006

                                                                          Jazz Fever in Damascus


                                                                          On the 2nd of July Damascus hosted the opening of the Jazz Festival
                                                                          the concerts will be held until the 6th day of July at 8 p.m., 5 days of Live Jazz Music at the newly renovated Citadel Of Damascus.

                                                                          The words of the Swiss Ambassador, Jack Dovatvil, at the opening night gave a Brief spotlight and tried to emphasize that the primary goal of the festival is the dialogue of cultures and to present jazz as a factor in disseminating humanitarian values in the world and not the conation of showing the skills of foreign players, or even locals, and that The diversity of performance will allow the public to discover new horizons of music in every evening.

                                                                          the Swiss Syrian Jazz orchestra is considered to be the only one in the Middle east
                                                                          And its music is wrote and composed by many well known composers all over the world
                                                                          Like Frank Kalberg (Finland) Amadis Duncal and Oliver Verdle (Switzerland), and Allen Johnson (US). The Jazz Orchestra( The big band) consists of 42 musicians divided between Syrians and Swiss members.

                                                                          Further more what was so interesting was the use of the Oriental Instrument ( Qanoon) in some of the music peaces they played. So the mix of the eastern and oriental Music was just amazing… for all Jazz fans in Damascus u still got 2 days to go so don’t lose the opportunity because I guaranty you’ll have one heck of a time .

                                                                          Tuesday, June 27, 2006

                                                                          Iris


                                                                          And I'd give up forever to touch you
                                                                          'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
                                                                          You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
                                                                          And I don't want to go home right now
                                                                          *
                                                                          *
                                                                          And all I can taste is this moment
                                                                          And all I can breathe is your life
                                                                          and sooner or later it's over
                                                                          I just don't want to miss you tonight
                                                                          *
                                                                          *
                                                                          And I don't want the world to see me
                                                                          'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
                                                                          When everything's made to be broken
                                                                          I just want you to know who I am
                                                                          *
                                                                          *
                                                                          And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
                                                                          Or the moment of truth in your lies
                                                                          When everything feels like the movies
                                                                          Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive
                                                                          *
                                                                          *
                                                                          And I don't want the world to see me
                                                                          'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
                                                                          When everything's made to be broken
                                                                          I just want you to know who I am





                                                                          Lyrics by the Goo Goo Dolls
                                                                          photo by the x-ray photographer Judith K McMillan

                                                                          Friday, June 23, 2006

                                                                          Mawlawis ( The Whirling Dervish )



                                                                          The Whirling Dervish order was founded by the mystical Sufi poet Jelalauddin Rumi in the 13th Century in both Turkey and Syria. Their dance is said to have derived from his spontaneous poetic outpourings, which would occur while he spun around the pillars of mosques. The turning is also described as a kinesthetic representation of the greater cosmic whirling of the universe. The participants continuously spin to the left, hands raised in prayerful gesture, often with the right elevated towards heaven and the left curved towards the earth. The trance state that is reached through the spinning is a type of meditation that is said to create a direct and complete union with the divine.

                                                                          Traditional Sufi Dervish may be seen chanting a dhikr, which is the repetition of "la illaha illa'llah" (there is no god but God). However, some Dervish may only repeat "Allah" because they know man can die at any moment, and they want only the name of God on their lips and in their hearts. The left foot of the whirle should never be raised, but sometimes is in a fit of ecstasy.

                                                                          I’ve always been an admirer of this mystic spiritual and esoteric dance... What’s so amazing about it is the meeting of art and faith and the simplicity of the presentation.

                                                                          Saturday, June 17, 2006

                                                                          The Zahiriyya Library















                                                                          Al-Madrasa al-Zahiriyya was originally a residential home that was transformed to a madrasa in 1277 after the death of Mamluk ruler Al-Zahir Rukn al-din Baybars al-Bunduqdari, or Baybars I (1260-1277), who is famous for the conquest of most of the Levant from the Crusaders. The king was buried in an elaborate mausoleum with a high dome in the southwest corner of the building.


                                                                          The history of the building, which dates from the late 13th century, is probably more interesting than the holdings of the library itself. One of the largest and best preserved of the Damascene madrasas, al-Zahiriyya was named for Sultan al-Zahir Baybars, the first of the Mamluks sultans. In 1876 it was turned into a general library. Along with al-'Adiliyya Madrasa, across the street, it was also headquarters of al-Majma' al-'Ilmi al-'Arabi, the premier institution of the Syrian literary renaissance of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.



                                                                          The madrasa is richly decorated using various materials and techniques. The main entrance gate is semi-domed with stone muqarnas. The interior ornamental program consists of marble revetment, carved stucco, gilt wood and a continuous frieze of glass mosaic that depicts architectural ensembles on three of the four interior walls, along with vases, trees, and other stylized vegetal motifs. The mihrab in the mausoleum is made of colored marble to allude to patterns and mosaics typical of the Mamluk architectural style.
                                                                          the name of the mausoleum's architect, Ibrahim b. Ghana'im, is carved into the muqarnas hood of the monumental entrance portal.


                                                                          The Zahiriyya collection was decimated, however, by the creation of the Asad Library when the manuscript collection, rare books and periodicals relating to Syria were transferred to the Asad Library. The Zahiriyya now contains about 70,000 volumes mostly related to Islam, the Arabic language, history and biography. The library is now used mostly by high school and college students.

                                                                          I have lots of memories in that Library for I spent many times studying there with friends and I just love it :)


                                                                          Sources from
                                                                          Middle East Studies Association Bulletin

                                                                          Sunday, June 11, 2006

                                                                          Famous last words


                                                                          • Dying is easy, comedy is hard
                                                                            Who: George Bernard Shaw, Said on his deathbed

                                                                          • Now, now, my good man, this is no time for making enemies.
                                                                            Who: Voltaire ( attributed) when asked by a priest to renounce Satan

                                                                          • Applaud, my friends, the comedy is finished.
                                                                            Who: Ludwig Van Beethoven
                                                                            Plaudite amici, comedia finite est;
                                                                            The formula traditionally used to end performance of commedia del arte.

                                                                          • Et tu, Brute?
                                                                            Translation: and you, Brutus?
                                                                            Who: Julius Caesar
                                                                            Attributed to him by Shakespeare’s famous play; his real last words are unknown.

                                                                          • This is absurd! This is absurd! ( English translation)
                                                                            Who: Sigmund Freud

                                                                          • I know you’ve came to kill me. Shoot, you are only going to kill a man.
                                                                            Who: Che Guevara

                                                                          • When the music’s over, turn off the lights.
                                                                            Who: Adolph Hitler, before his suicide in 1945

                                                                          • Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.
                                                                            Who: Jesus of Nazareth

                                                                          • Go on get out! Last words are for fools who haven’t said enough!
                                                                            Who: Karl Marx, asked by his housekeeper what his last words were.

                                                                          • Shoot me in the chest!
                                                                            Who: Benito Mussolini to his executioner.

                                                                          Tuesday, June 06, 2006

                                                                          6.6.6

                                                                          Yea today is 06-06-06 pretty scary huh
                                                                          Well this date wont repeat again ya33ny for so so so long time every ( 100 years )
                                                                          I’m not sure if I should consider it a special good day or not
                                                                          But there’s hundreds of stories related to that scary number
                                                                          I’m not going into details about it because I’m sure that most of you are familiar with it plus I’m too sleepy to write more…

                                                                          Anyways today 06-06-06 is the opening of the new remake of
                                                                          The Omen movie world wild ,I remember the old one , it was pretty good. lets hope the new one is as good as the old.

                                                                          And one more thing here’s a cool link about the
                                                                          666myth
                                                                          Enjoy and have a Happy 06-06-06 day all.

                                                                          Monday, June 05, 2006

                                                                          Silence



                                                                          Where do we go from here?

                                                                          Your silence hurts

                                                                          It weighs heavily

                                                                          I care so bloody much

                                                                          I hurt

                                                                          I gave

                                                                          I cried

                                                                          I wanted needed hoped

                                                                          The scope of it all

                                                                          Still over whelms me

                                                                          As I paint portraits in the sky

                                                                          Seeing you in my life’s eye

                                                                          Where do we stand form here?

                                                                          Wishing a thousand years for you

                                                                          Wanting hoping seeing

                                                                          Yet frightened that

                                                                          You will fade away

                                                                          And then trembling

                                                                          I realize

                                                                          Once more

                                                                          The heaviness of your silence

                                                                          2003-22-3

                                                                          Saturday, May 27, 2006

                                                                          A new family member

                                                                          I introduce you “Lady” my new puppy
                                                                          She’s A Siberian Husky







                                                                          Isn’t she Lovable