By: Fareed Ghanem
On Christmas, Hegel smiles;
No year stands up unless a year dies. No butterfly flies up, unless a cocoon is torn out.
Crucifixion, dear gentlemen, is the ultimate dialect in the forest of a boring time.
Crucifixion, dear ladies, is another tale of the fire-bird.
Crucifixion, dear travelers to a future dwelled by past, is the resurrection of myth trees, while history stands on its head.

by Fareed Ghanem

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