Khaberni - "Nabil Ammari"
Every new day, she steals me from the depth of sleep with her aged angelic voice and I head towards the radio to raise the volume slightly, God, how beautiful your voice is O mother of Ziad in this dewy morning, fragrant with honeysuckle creeping towards the path of bees coming from the heritage of Rahbani and Gibran adorned with basil and inspiring longings with the rising partridges on the steps of Baalbek walking the streets of old Jerusalem, as pure as the snow of Hermon. This makes you feel nostalgic for the homeland, flowers, the village, the stream, the sea, the moon, the village chief, and even Hanna the drunk who dozes on the Al-Louziya bridge finding his sleep sweet and dreaming that he and the moon are neighbors, he brings the moon for his beloved no matter how far it is as a token of love and commitment. This is Fairouz who connects you directly with the universe and its secrets and in a meeting with the creator in prayer and supplication, the secret in Fairouz's voice is that she carried the Arab homeland to the far corners of the world and sang for it, from America she sings (I love you, Lebanon) and nostalgia takes her despite the tragedies of war. And when she arrives, she sings "Peace to my heart, Beirut" and takes the bus to go to Tannourine and on the way, she scoops a handful of dirt from Antoura to take it to Baalbek, the city of the sun and life, passing by the neighbor of the valley, Zahle hoping to see at sunset the beautiful moon of Machghara and nights of Baalbek and Fakhr al-Din, and the mountains of Sowan, and Karm Al-Alali, and she remembers Assi, Mansour, Philemon Wehbe, (Sabaa) and Nasri Shamseddin and she calls out her famous cry (Nasri) and the poets Talal Haidar, Michel Trad and his moon leaning on the slopes of Sannine, and Joseph Harb who reminds us of our names and Said Akl who transports us to the braids of Yara and to Damascus with his masterpiece (Ask me, O Damascus) and the Damascus International Festival and to the Damascene jasmine and Nizar Qabbani and his masterpiece (Do not ask me what his name, my love) until it's late summer and the vineyard is wrung then comes the winter with its abundant good (Winter, O world, so our season increases and sweetens), and the next season is sweetened by the Jerash Festival and the play (Petra) taking Amman to place it in the heart and she says to Jordan on behalf of Said Akl, Jordan, the land of resolve, until she reaches some roses which have thorns back to the young east, and from sad Baghdad, she places it in the position of the sword and the poets and triumph, and from Amman she travels to the land of Kinanah (Egypt), Sayed Darwish, Mohamed Abdel Wahab, Umm Kulthum, and sings (Afraid I say what’s in my heart) (And this girl) (And stay up night after night) and goes to the riverbank of love (the Alexandria coast) and sails back to Lebanon and on her way remembers Palestine and says to it (I do not forget you Palestine) and when she arrives in Lebanon she sings (Heyla ya expansive your ship returning). This is Fairouz whose voice accompanies you with every sunrise and the brightness of the moon you know it from the rustling of the branches. And the flow of water you know it while you thank God, she is Fairouz who sang, she gave generously and continues to give in this terrible time, a time of songs low in words, tune, and voice.
