DAMASCUS – The sharp clang of metal plates colliding, swiftly followed by a hail of shrapnel, shattered glass, and crumbling masonry assaulting our walls and windows – that’s the grim symphony of a mortar landing.
Continue reading “Damascus Mortar Diary”
DAMASCUS – When you reside in a city where snowfall is a rare event, occurring perhaps once or twice a year, or even less frequently, each occurrence becomes a moment of excitement. I remember, back then, whenever it snowed, we gleefully played with the white fluff for a single day before it inevitably melted away by the following day, if not sooner. Fond childhood memories linger of those times when I felt a twinge of sadness as the snow vanished before my eyes.
Continue reading “Damascus’ White Battles”
From my 2013 Arabic diary, upon returning to Damascus from Jordan, rejecting the US-led intervention in Syria. Image by Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz
DAMASCUS –
Let them gloat—
no harm at all, then let them gloat.
Let them cheer,
and clink their glasses, loud and clear—
for tomorrow we will bear
another homeland to its bier.
Extracted from my 2005 & 2011 Arabic diary using AI. Original Arabic text below. Image by Pixabay
DAMASCUS –
In my country—
the land of hypocrites and fools—
we lie, we twist the truth by rules,
claim anything we choose.
This poem is written in the voice of absurd confession—a juridical parody spoken by a powerless teenager accused of crimes that only states and intelligence services commit. It reflects the psychological climate of Syria before the uprising: a society treated as guilty in advance, confessing to crimes it did not commit, awaiting punishment already decided. The violence here is not a call—it is a forecast.
Continue reading “Confessions of a Free Woman in a Captive Homeland”
Roumani Line 