جايبلي سلام
لا تعتب عليي
شايف البحر شو كبير
حبيتك تنسيت النوما
الله معك يا هوانا
كتبنا وما كتبنا
سلملي عليه
يا طير
طلعلي البكي
من عز النوم
أنا عندي حنين
كيفك انت
وردة عين الرمانة
الله معك يا هوانا
بعدك على بالي
بعدك بقلبي وردة الوردات
لا انت حبيبي

مراحل الحب عند فيروز (مزج)

مزج - بتحبي الموسيقا؟

وفي وصولك بطرز الدنيا ورود..

ربما ذُبنا مزيجًا من غناءٍ فالتقينا..

Dalal Abou Amneh - Rouba Alkarmel , دلال أبو آمنة - رُبى الكرمل

As Dawn Awakens

The sun peeked over the horizon, brushing the countryside with hues of gold and orange. This dawn felt different—more alive than any before it. As the light spilt over the land, the muted sounds of the night faded, replaced by the joyful melodies of birds returning to their nests. For those in the village of Novostroika, today was not just another morning; it was the beginning of their long-awaited revival.

The frost still clung to the ground, shimmering like diamonds under the nascent sunlight. People began to stir, emerging from their homes, some rubbing sleep from their eyes, others already smiling, full of purpose. The scene's beauty belied their struggles—the nightmares had been haunting, filled with the echoes of conflict and loss. But together, they were ready to dance, to rejoice in this fresh, invigorating morning air.

Mira stood at her doorstep, watching her neighbors gather in the square. "We won't let it be easy," she whispered to herself, recalling the uncertainties that lay ahead. Freedom was not just a sweet word; it was a distant dream wrapped in challenges. “We’ll need time,” she added, her heart pounding with hope. “But soon, we’ll be humming our favorite rhymes again.” 

As she joined the others, she felt the energy pulsating through the crowd. They had seen what had been taken from them—their homes, their peace, their very essence. Yet here they stood, united, not crushed nor scattered. In their hearts, they felt the power of resilience. They had arisen, they had awoken.

Days turned into weeks, and the village worked tirelessly. Like the sun strengthening its rays, each day brought clarity to their purpose: they would reclaim what was rightfully theirs. The elders shared tales of their history, the verdant fields along the Sea of Azov, the vibrant markets filled with people’s laughter. They reminded the younger generations that the dawn was inevitable; light always prevailed over darkness.

As summer waned and the keen edge of autumn made its presence felt, the rains began to fall, slowing their strides but not their spirits. The villagers prepared for trials; they fortified their determination. They would push back against any force that threatened their land. Every fleeting raindrop felt like a symbol of cleansing—washing away their past hardships, every storm renewing their resolve.

Mira often stood by the river, contemplating the future. “Even winter will not freeze our hearts,” she vowed. The icy grip might chill their bones, but not the fire within. Each morning, she would chant, “We will fight for our homes, and we will not break.”

Eventually, the season turned once more towards spring. The villagers sprang into action with renewed vigor. They mobilized resources, tending to their fields, sowing seeds of hope as they prepared to reclaim the life they once knew. "We will push back," they declared, united by a common spirit. They would return the stolen grain to their markets, and the Sea of Azov would feel the pulse of their great awakening once again.

“Go home if you wish to avoid this fight,” Mira spoke to those who dared to trample on their spirit. “This land, our home, won't accept defeat. This morning, as dawn awakens, we are ready to take back what you have taken.” 

And with that, they stepped forward together. With every new day, they reminded themselves, they were not broken nor shaken. They were alive, and their spirit would shine brighter than any darkness that sought to oppress them. 

As dawn awakened each day, the villagers of Novostroika stood tall, ready to reclaim their rightful place in the world—a dawn of possibilities shimmering on the horizon, waiting to be embraced..

As Dawn Awakens. Anna and Ivan Dnepropetrovsk. Duet

رفعت

Ghada Shbeir - Helm Btada غادة شبير - حلم ابتدى

مزج- دِفء

بس صباح! صباح ضاعت مني، ضاعت و سلحبت متل ما سلحب العمر من بين الأصابيع اللي بإيدي

‏المكانُ الأمثل للاختباء هو الحبّ.

Rifai96

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