Nawel

“People—People.—Phone.—Phone.—Endless. And I am so tired.—And I would like to sleep under trees—Red ones—Blue ones—Swirling passionate ones—”
― Alfred Stieglitz, My Faraway One: Selected Letters of Georgia O'Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz

“هذي دمشق.. وهذي الكأس والراح
إني أحب... وبعـض الحـب ذباح
أنا الدمشقي.. لو شرحتم جسدي
لسـال منه عناقيـدٌ.. وتفـاح
و لو فتحـتم شراييني بمديتكـم
سمعتم في دمي أصوات من راحوا
زراعة القلب.. تشفي بعض من عشقو
وما لقلـبي –إذا أحببـت جـراح

This is Damascus... and this is a glass of spirit (comfort)
I am in love... but I am aware of the fact that certain kinds of love can slaughter you in wrath
I am a Damascene... if you dissect me into halves
You will have but grapes... and apples falling in your path
Open my veins with scalpels
Hear ancestral chants
If heart transplants... can cure some of the passionate
Why does mine stay torn in half then?”
― Nizar Qabbani

“Which of us could say we were more sinned against than sinning? We were so easily manipulated - confusion made a masterpiece of us.”
― M.L. Rio, If We Were Villains