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Poet: oldmedina
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last on: 13-03-2019
last on: 16-11-2019
last on: 16-10-2019

It was an early morn, and he left his home. He joined a trading caravan. Trading caravans walked some old routes, Crossing barren deserts in their annual colorful journeys. Journeys that took him along topographic escapades, Those natural wonders. First, They descended from the highlands of "Salwan" Where precious water abundant and temperate a climate. They marched down the flowing rivers and rural towns. Then,they reached the haunting "Stone city" crafted by the skillful hands. Places they harbor fascinating tales. Stories of alien spirits, dwelling and roaming forbidden grounds. Mighty kings and lords, trapped in mysterious curses of this city. Beautiful Jinni girls and fairies, who lured young men and warriors to their demise. Incredible fortunes, they say buried under derelict temples and shady graves. They walked along the shores of unsettled blue sea, Taking brief respites in many stations, Exchanging goods; dry dates ,silk ,jewelry ,leather and perfumes, Before mounting beyond the steppes after "Jebel Ayoob" and rugged chain, Racing with the dear burden and fleeting times. They marched to meet the blooming season of incenses. They bought valuable things; Pearls ,musk ,sacred incense ,gold necklaces and rings, Yes!the coastal markets of "Nazwa" Then all , at last will be heading back. Back to the northern plains, Seeking home and highlands of departure. He will tell you these stories and or more. Thank you for visiting.


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