toward the vast cemetery, accompanied by the sounds of continuous lamentations
the sorrow. Hands would be lifted in supplication; wishes and tears would be pouring out as people w
More than once he would stop me, asking me to give him some time to think so that he could absorb th
"We still celebrate what al-Mutanabbi said and what our ancestors left11
"Yes, little boy, you are right. The mud of our defeat is what we brought to you. You have to look f
Mother Khadija looked around her angrily, "Aren't we the descendants of al-Hajjaj?"13