The name of God the Merciful
Southern Greet... wet with rain and tears
I hear about the launch of any website on the Internet to any Lebanese
village, especially the Southern... my heart pulsing with joy, pleasure
and happiness... my tears fall down on my silent face, mixed with light
perfumes of memory and memories, as the ink falls over the writing
lines, it's life, nostalgia and longing tears, it's the remnants of the
dream, that dig graves inside ourselves, more narrow than those of the
Harouf, as to the poems... prayers tree and
demonstrating flowers... and a moon, its half is the heart, the other
half is blood and spirit.
To Harouf, small dreams of horizon size, extends from the South to the
South, and from a heart of emigre, burnt to the brink of a poem promises
Harouf, more than one Sun and more than one Body.
To Harouf, a Resistance South... is not resembles, but his blood, his
gun and his pen.
And to the South... Harouf... and letters from pearl and love.
you.. this beautiful site
and wish you success and continuity of this breath, perseverance and