“ No Coffee in My City For Refugees”
Once upon a time, there was a lion happy and proud in the jungles. One day a clan of hyenas trapped him. The lion survived the traitorous hyenas and went to another forest. Upon reaching that big faraway forest, he took a deep breath and filled his lungs with fresh air.
The Persistence of Memory
“ I always remember my childhood house with happy memories. There was a beautiful garden, and outside my bedroom window was a jasmine vine which would open in the evenings, giving off a divine scent.” Said Carolina Herrera. Jasmine vines? Such a small thing for someone from the heart of the city of jasmine, Damascus. My grandma used to gaze at her beloved jasmine in her garden, she said that the moon liked Damascus so much that it put its head on its shoulder and those white fallen hairs became jasmine. For that maybe a Syrian poet said once “ Damascus summarizes the history of jasmine”