They're saying it's the week-end. The last sunny hours before sunset...
A soft summer breeze is blowing.It's calm, you can hear crickets, and a few birds, chirping in the distance.
They say you can tell the temperature by the frequency of a cricket's chirp...
Behind a blue curtain, a boy is playing the guitar, he seems to be singing;"We're not gonna die....
"Strange melody, strange words...
Outside a house, by an olive tree, a little girl with beautiful auburn hair is strolling back and forth on her scooter.
Far away, the sea glitters under the sun's golden reflection,But you can't see Beirut, it's lost in the haze, or the smog, or is it just lost?Is that the hum of a warplane? Or is it the remnants of another southern shelling?
This light, these warm smells of summer brush, these colors, these sounds, this "calm",
Are constantly screaming out for peace in silence...Something does not make sense when such beauty is raped.The hum is louder now, it's definitely a jet plane.Something is absurd when daily, every smile we draw tastes like salt,When every rare burst of laughter almost crushes our chest into arrest.But we still appreciate the simple runaway moments,
The cool air when the ground starts to breathe after sunset,
The moon hanging over the poisoned sea,
The certainty that there is something immortal to this land,
To this blood,T
he feeling that even if we don't get to witness or confirm it,
This country and these people will live forever,
As magical as that, As simple as that.
You can't kill magic with metal and hatred and fire.
You can't touch what you can't see, what you can never understand,Because long ago you let fear eat you up, and turn you into a blind monster.
"I shall kill, and oppress, in order to never be oppressed or killed, ever again."Makes sense, if you are ready to go through life without living it.
Without soul.
Without magic.
Wake up.
Christophe Katrib
29/07/06
Lebanon.
A soft summer breeze is blowing.It's calm, you can hear crickets, and a few birds, chirping in the distance.
They say you can tell the temperature by the frequency of a cricket's chirp...
Behind a blue curtain, a boy is playing the guitar, he seems to be singing;"We're not gonna die....
"Strange melody, strange words...
Outside a house, by an olive tree, a little girl with beautiful auburn hair is strolling back and forth on her scooter.
Far away, the sea glitters under the sun's golden reflection,But you can't see Beirut, it's lost in the haze, or the smog, or is it just lost?Is that the hum of a warplane? Or is it the remnants of another southern shelling?
This light, these warm smells of summer brush, these colors, these sounds, this "calm",
Are constantly screaming out for peace in silence...Something does not make sense when such beauty is raped.The hum is louder now, it's definitely a jet plane.Something is absurd when daily, every smile we draw tastes like salt,When every rare burst of laughter almost crushes our chest into arrest.But we still appreciate the simple runaway moments,
The cool air when the ground starts to breathe after sunset,
The moon hanging over the poisoned sea,
The certainty that there is something immortal to this land,
To this blood,T
he feeling that even if we don't get to witness or confirm it,
This country and these people will live forever,
As magical as that, As simple as that.
You can't kill magic with metal and hatred and fire.
You can't touch what you can't see, what you can never understand,Because long ago you let fear eat you up, and turn you into a blind monster.
"I shall kill, and oppress, in order to never be oppressed or killed, ever again."Makes sense, if you are ready to go through life without living it.
Without soul.
Without magic.
Wake up.
Christophe Katrib
29/07/06
Lebanon.
4 comments:
Amazing... It brought tears to my eyes...
it is amazing...
it's a good choice.. really...
specially when he said: "You can't touch what you can't see, what you can never understand..."
it's true, nothing can destroy what lebanon is based on, they can't destroy the beauty of the lebanese people, and i'm talking about the beauty of their souls...
but beebee to tell u the truth and it's not "mojamaleh".. i love ur writings more, u have a wonderful way in picturing things cuz it feels that u feel them and u live them then u give us ur experience in the perfect words.. and ur words always come straight from ur heart to our hearts... i think that's ur secret.. walla.. u r an amazing writer and i'd rather read things u write than anybody else...
waiting to read something from u sooooooooon :)
We are the ones that end up rising .. returning .. with grace and the fluidity of water .. shining and reflecting the golden yellow of the sun .. as if we held on to our life even after death
that was touching...
unfortunately it seems like there is going to be a lot more darkness in the middle east before there can be any light of hope.
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