Khaberni - Who among us, when it rains, doesn’t yearn for the voice of Fairouz singing "let it rain, oh world," and "Winter has returned"?
Who among us has not picked from the vineyards and the clusters of grapes with Fairouz in the high vineyards?
Who among us was not lifted by a wave of Fairouzian melancholy, then dropped by nostalgia to return to their homeland, my country of blue cloud mountain, far beyond where our loved ones are, bringing me greetings?
Who among us hasn't been carried by the voice of Fairouz back to their small childhood world with "knock knock, mother of Suleiman, come sleep, come sleep, let's hide from the path of ages, when they grew up and we remained small, they asked us where were you, why didn't you grow up, and we said we forgot,"?
Who among us has not been taken by nostalgia to their old home, the porch, the Siwan, and the old floor mats with her masterpiece, "Your house, Grandmother Khatyar, reminds me of my grandmother’s house, keep singing me poetry while the world is raining, and this nostalgia comes from the voice of Lady Fairouz!"
Who among us has not heard the tales spun by the sun of love, Fairouz, when the story began on the first winter, "tell me, tell me about my country"?
Who among us, in the old days, used to broadcast her voice from wave to wave on the radio, especially on joyful occasions like our beautiful bride’s wedding, and during quiet family moments especially in the stillness of the night, and festive nights such as "feast feast, a feast for our land, the Fairouz song has its elegant rituals as we used to see in our morning rituals of coffee with her voice?"
Who among us hasn't lived every morning with the voice of Fairouz, learned the art of listening to her voice, and sang along with her, "the Shalabiya girl, fair Oh mother of large eyes, and oh home rotate around us"?
Who among us, when hearing the chirping of birds on the branches, sings along with Fairouz "please, bird of the blackcap, bringing greetings, bird of the gardens, and oh partridge of Sannine"?
Who among us, when hearing the word "beloved Palestine," feels within them Fairouz singing "the ancient streets of Jerusalem, and the sword shall be unsheathed, and the bridge of return, and the glaring anger, At and Bisan, and Jaffa, and the child in the cave"?
Who among us, when hearing the word "Jordan," is prompted by Fairouz to sing "Jordan, the land of resolve, until we reach the size of some roses, and do not forget Amman in the heart, home of glory, march forward, and the day of dignity and the operetta of harvest and spears"?
Fairouz sang and chanted roads for the child in the cave and his mother Mary, Christmas carols, "Oh Virgin Mary," the ancient streets of Jerusalem, to Mecca, Beirut, the beach of Alexandria, she sang and sang for the breeze that blew upon us, the towered and fenced dovecote, the hawthorn flower, the lily-of-the-valley, the almond blossom in April, give me the flute and sing, the lofty eyes, and the car that (isn't moving) because it (needs someone to push it)!!
Fairouz sang for us "your eyes summer and mine winter", and how with a single letter from the name of her lover "the lilacs clump in the paths"? And if Fairouz sang: "May your house be ruined, Aliya, how sweet you are, you solve the problem they brought Wadih El Safi with a rose and it's time banded on the solid walls at the threshold leaning on a threshold"
This is Fairouz giving you a beautiful morning, buttoning up your garden with scattered and hawthorn flowers, inviting you to a day away from all worries and saying "morning of the morning, Opener O All-Knowing, the pocket has not a mite, but the mood is fresh and sound, door of hope, your door O Merciful"
