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A wild roof at the door step of Asia. An island of cars and river of people. Pavilion of roses and sea of mud. In Time which knows no heart and admires silence. * Sana`a was born in September so as to die in November. Then again in May and on October. On first of January and second December. Do you know how this dead Sana`a died? And when it will live again. Like an apricot tree it died standing. To prepare for its green birth. It continues to die so as to live better.* Fears of Red Rain. Ashes on a summer day. Dreams dark as smoke. And call after call to prayer. Dark clouds over the city. The city of long and short memory. Slow dreams and old myths. City as Dream. Dream as City. Tall houses and flat roofs. Build out of mud bricks dried under the sun. Houses in search of light longing to immerse in the stars. Like a swimmer spreading out its hair to the burning wind. Once part of the Universe. Once the whole Universe dreamed their dreams. City of History. History of City. Tales told from the heart. Poetry which lives in calm through centuries. Pure and simple. Now with doors locked, windows opened. With dreams locked in them. To be re-dreamed some day again. City in brown color of earth. Is she not the queen of earth? It looks much older than it is. As lifted treasure from the bottom of the sea covered in silence. Dark clouds on the horizon, lighting and arrival of spring rains. A candle flickered and a book was slammed shut. Moving sluggishly and speaking in murmurs. War in the Time of Peace. Peace in the Time of War. Dark palm leaves as falling combs on a rainy monsoon sky. His face comes with rains, stars, shells, red corals, long Yemeni coast, tall palm trees and hanging gardens. Apricots are already blossoming at the city's end. In the city they no longer have space. Houses spread in swallowed trees and gardens. The City of History is now houses, full with people, with doors locked. Vast rooms with brocade - lined walls. Drawn-out slow music accompanying the wind and occasional smiles. World of occasional smiles! Unbearable weight of pain, injustice and empty hopes. Dignity washed away during spring rains. Forgotten like a drop of water in storm. In time which does not allow footprints. What is the use of rising and setting sun now? Dreams always fall from some heights. Which heights? Which mountain tops? A wild roof at the door step of Asia. An island of cars and river of people. Pavilion of roses and sea of mud. In Time which knows no heart and admires silence. Do you know how this dead Sana`a died? As apricot tree it died standing. To prepare for new green birth. *From poem by Abdulla Baraduni
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Yemen, Sana`a, Arab spring, rains, change,
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