She Does Not Love You.

My Homeland Is Not A Suitcase, And I Am No Traveller

For The Arabs In Israel There Is Always A Tension Between Nationality And Identity.

Without Hope We Are Lost.

I See What I Want Of Love... I See Horses Making The Meadow Dance, Fifty Guitars Sighing, And A Swarm Of Bees Suckling The Wild Berries, And I Close My Eyes Until I See Our Shadow Behind This Dispossessed Place... I See What I Want Of People: Their Desire To Long For Anything, Their Lateness In Getting To Work And Their Hurry To Return To Their Folk... And Their Need To Say: Good Morning.

I Have Learned And Dismantled All The Words In Order To Draw From Them A Single Word: Home.