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The shelter of absence is a place built of words. Everyone in it belongs to the world of his imagination, and lives in a state of obsessions and doubts. A scientist who surrenders to ambiguity and hieroglyphs and loves the mercury of impermanence and uncertainty. In this shelter, we do not know whether what we read are the preparations of the goddess of talisman, or if they are the same as the preparations of others. We do not know whether to believe her or to believe in the suffering writers who create themselves with the power of language and invent worlds and selves with words. In “The Shelter of Absence,” we read about the wreckage of events and people, and about the brewing panic of perishing cities, in stories that belong to the imagination and the grotesque, as much as they derive from the devastation that occurs in reality as material for writing. Critic Dr. Mohamed Al-Shahat believes that the narrative of “The Shelter of Absence” builds “on constructing an imaginative journey, with successive episodes, that questions the concepts of space, time, and human existence. In doing so, it searches for the essence of human communication beyond “language” in its common sense.”

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So young people write today? What topics do they cover? This book may provide a model for what young people think and how they see the world. On this occasion, we return and confirm what was said previously on other occasions: They write themselves, their lost lives in complex worlds so obscure that they are impossible to write. In these three texts, the ego is present, but it gradually turns into a comprehensive “I” that expresses an entire generation. Each of them writes his lived present, but this present is so fast-paced that it is difficult to capture it and express it in a way that fixes it in a specific form. The question that results from this observation: Can these young people actually live their present? The texts contained in the book are part of the product of a playwriting workshop, which we called “Writing for the Stage.” The name is not arbitrary, but rather carries a specific meaning linking the text and the performance, writing and directing on the stage. This workshop was organized by the Citizen Artists Foundation in 2016

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It is no longer necessary to stop at the picture written by Cervantes. There is a big difference between Don Quixote, which was written to make fun of him, or for any other purpose, and Don Quixote, which became our property, and we carried it in our imagination, subjected it to our perceptions, and we became free to remake and formulate it as we wish. We can say that each of us has his own Don Quixote, whether he has read the novel or not, and whether he relies on the picture in the book or not. Whether he relied on his own interpretation of what was in the book, or projected into the book what he wanted. The many faces of a character like Don Quixote give us the freedom and courage to express our own vision of him. Therefore, each of us is able to talk about the Don Quixote that he saw in the book, or the Don Quixote that he himself is raising in his symbolic and creative imagination. Don Quixote is everywhere, and he is present in all of us. The Donquixote vision is one that does not give its owner the opportunity to retreat. There must be a pause that seems suicidal or crazy. Retreating in search of a new opportunity means overlooking the collapse that has occurred to humans and values. It means as if one overlooks deterioration. It is a kind of self-punishment to revive the consciences of others. We can say in general that there must always be a Don Quixote pause so that honor does not die in life itself. For this reason, it occurred to me one day to defend insanity.

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This book collects selected texts by twenty-one male and female poets from different cultural and social backgrounds, regardless of the reasons and ways they left Syria, even though most of them left after the outbreak of the revolution in early 2011. Today they live in various countries in the Arab world and outside it, and many of them live in Germany especially. These selections are an attempt to shed light on the Syrian poetic experience emerging in exile, which carries within it the diversity of poets’ styles, experiences, opinions and ages, and presents a picture of the reality of Syrian poetry abroad, without evaluating it, but rather as a witness to the changes occurring in poetry and parallel to the changes in the earth. Although the features of this experience have not yet crystallized, it demonstrates effective attempts to take Syrian poetry to other directions that will inevitably lead to new places in Syrian writing.

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I want a clear enemy who is fit to curse and curse And soldiers cheer for their return Defeated or victorious And martyrs, not victims And an anthem And a memorial... I want a place in the heart of the country to comment on A memorial photo of a family that did not survive death I leave the task of pinning medals of honor on the chest of the tyrant to war. I want a war that resembles a war And an enemy is the enemy, without a mask, from the clay of this earth And a poem I write in praise of the fighter Not in Venetian satire! I want to write grass, The grass that will grow on the iron of the cannons!

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People wanted to escape the void They built big cities They became gears, hammers, bags and hats. ... City people wanted to return to nature When their bones were broken They filled their balconies with flowers and trellises They raised cats and dogs in homes. ... They made the cities fortified and walled It is surrounded by soldiers and guarded by aircraft. ... When wars break out Balcony roses will still survive Battles rage in the mountains of the villages. ... Peasants, harvesters and truck drivers will die But the crops It will still flow onto store shelves.

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Since the revolution that overthrew the Shah in 1979, Iran has lived in a state of constant turmoil and major social and political fluctuations. From there, Delphine Menoui, a French journalist of Iranian origin, writes about her experience living in Iran for ten years, including one of the most ambiguous periods in Iranian history, the Green Movement.

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I do not know if what I am going to narrate has happened before, or if it is happening today, this hour, now, this moment. Or will it happen later, tomorrow or the next day, very soon or very far away? But, I know, it always happens. where? In the world, here, there and everywhere, but what matters to me is that it is happening here in this place, my country, and in the city that I could not leave, for countless reasons. The city that, I repeat, I cannot die away from, nor can I live away from it. with whom? With me, it is the first answer, because it is known about me that I only write about myself, or something that happened with another person I know well, or perhaps with a person I know briefly, or with a person I created from a mixture of people, or a person I made up completely. However, as a technical solution to this dilemma, I see that this time, it happened to you specifically, you who are now reading what I write and suspect that it is about you, then little by little you will know that it is about you. Because literally, or almost literally, it happened to you, and it applies to you only.

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The country that only asks for its children to die is a dead country. The children who knew nothing but it, and would not think of leaving it, are hunting them down individually, so that devastation will be a clear future, and so that the thought of surviving the people’s experience of major battles for the sake of freedom, justice and change, is thinking. Very simple. * * * Time involves a new time emerging from its womb, and lessons are shed on its path The ancient stories and the stories that were an example for an entire generation, and we who witnessed the violent moment of crossing were the bulwark of the old time and the living scepter in the hand of the new time, and for this reason we had to be divided and filled with deep cracks. Before we triumph over a part of us, and what died within us settles at the bottom of the painful times whose madness we witnessed.

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What I chose was based on a combination of personal taste and conviction - which sought to be objective as much as possible - that these examples are worthy of introducing the wide reader to Adwan’s poetic personality. What also requires clarification is that the selection of poems over others was subject to a specific technical factor: that is, the replacement of long poems in favor of medium or short ones, in order to make room for the largest possible number of texts expressing the experience, and in a way that is proportionate to the proposed size of the selections. Hopefully, these selections will succeed in recalling a lofty poetic stature, represented by “the free son of life,” “the one who exalts himself upon condescension,” bending “with the discipline of a soldier before a spike,” looking “sad and angry, at the perforated shoes of the poor,” biased “to her path filled with the dust of honor.” "; As Mahmoud Darwish expressed in his eulogy for Adwan.