It appeared to have grown by itself on the summit of the mountain, for how could the clay and earth and little colored glass windows have been transported up there unless a goat had carried them in its teeth? And even a goat would have needed some kind of track; a human being without shoes or sandals could never have done it. All the same, this village was there, carved into the rocky mountain, making the summit into a complete circle. It was as if the mountain had enlisted the help of jinns to build a place which was so inaccessible that only those who loved it would make the effort to reach it. Every stone was polished and arranged with regard to its size and color and the result was an ornament of incomparable beauty. When the moon was full the women were overcome with happiness, eagerly anticipating the things they would do—fill the paraffin lamps, and stay up late strolling around well into the night now that they no longer needed to be afraid of scorpions and snakes. They would set off to listen to songs and chew qat in the yards of their mud-brick houses, accompanying one another on drums and tambourines, all happy except Layla, who used to say, “Every time there’s a full moon, it reminds me that life is short.”
What do You think about I Sweep The Sun Off Rooftops?
