Far away, our dreams have nothing to do with what we do. The wind carries the night, and passes on, aimless.
I love women whose hidden desires make horses put an end to their lives at the threshold
I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw from them asingle word: Home.
Have I had two roads, I would have chosen their third.
In Damascus:poems become diaphanousThey’re neither sensualnor intellectualthey are what echo saysto echo . . .
History laughs at both the victim and the aggressor.
Poetry and beauty are always making peace. When you read something beautiful you find coexistence it breaks walls down.
Sarcasm helps me overcome the harshness of the reality we live, eases the pain of scars and makes people smile.
I believe in the power of poetry, which gives me reasons to look ahead and identify a glint of light.
Against barbarity, poetry can resist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by.