I would tell you more of Him, but how shall I? When love becomes vast love becomes wordless. And when memory is overladen it seeks the silent deep. - Kahlil Gibran

ما زلت أؤمن
أن الانسان لا يموت دفعة واحدة
وإنما يموت بطريقة الأجزاء
كلما رحل صديق مات جزء
وكلما غادرنا حبيب مات جزء
وكلما قُتل حلم من أحلامنا مات جزء
فيأتي الموت الأكبر ليجد كل الأجزاء ميتة
فيحملها ويرحل

Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave
and eats a bread it does not harvest.

Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.

Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.

Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking

Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.

Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle.

Pity the nation divided into fragments,
each fragment deeming itself a nation.

بين خيال الانسان وادراكه .. مسافة لا يدركها سوى حنينه