I especially write about you, the free Yemeni women. You are the outstanding, purest and the noblest of the world's revolutionaries. You are the flavor and fragrance of our revolution. You are the secret of its existence, strength and continuation. I am proud of you, magnificent women, and will write about you with pride and bragging, you the most flawless and bravest of the current time.
Because of you, we revolted for a decent free life and because of you we have been re- resurrected for the second time from the smoke and ashes of a humiliating and degrading death. We also became the legendry phoenix because of you, flying in a tragic space full of misery, meanness, selfishness and deceit and because of you the revolution will definitely triumph and reach its destined desire.
I will write about you with respect and pride, and I will tell my sons and grandchildren endless stories of your struggle, your sacrifices and resolutions which the infidelity bullets had failed to defeat. You had lofty honor and rank that settled both you and us in every distinguished incident of history. You have your imprint in every soul that vanished, and every blood that is shed. No revolution that deserves to be bowed for and respected like our current revolution, because it is noble and clean from all the dirt and filth which the previous Yemeni revolutions had experienced.
Three years ago I published a novel with three women as its heroes. At that time one of the religious pretenders told me that my story Ashjan al-Sharq (Aspirations of the east,) is a call for mobilizing women to revolt against men and that it is a call for her dissolution, removal of the veil, through pretexts of her liberality from tenets, the persecuting traditions and the confiscation of her right in existence.
I don't hide my joy now for seeing the honor being conferred on the freedom fighter Tawakul Karman with the loftiest award in the world. I am also fond of the popular revolution that is stationed in the squares, for nearly a year, I became especially fond of the black color.
Though it is a symbol of retardation, slavery, depression and other aspects that the black colors resemble, however I found for the first time an inspiration that emits light, development and hope and freedom. How can it not be so, and the dawn is born of the night. Hadn't the late writer Gibran Khalil Gibran say that in the heart of every winter there is a spring, and behind the veil of every night there is a smiling dawn.
To some the black color is a symbol of slavery and backwardness, however to me it is what distinguishes the Yemeni revolution.
It is our countenance that we have lent so long to dark ages. It is also the face of this revolution and its lively vein that is full of dream, ambition, determination, justice and it is its goal. It is our shining face that comes from the heart of deep darkness as well, being our amazing wing with which we had soared in space.
We also used it to tweet to the spring and crossed the other seasons. Our revolution now is on the threshold of a new spring, and flying with wings that excite wonder and admiration. There is no popular civil revolution like ours that had not been a revolution of elites, an ethnicity or a particular category. It could be said that is exceptional and rare.
I will write in bold type, what a contemptible face you have O, politics. The wretched ones are those who only see the revolution as a transitional presidency and government and not an appropriate end to a corrupt, lethal and trifling regime that messed up everything. They only see it as gowns, veils, and black chins covering the change squares and the satellite channels. All these politicians should go to hell with their fears, interests and I also ask Mrs. Clinton, Chancellor Miracle to be ashamed. We want those mouths to stop talking of women political rights, equality, communal marginalization, abuse expulsion and other terms that had been severely exhausted in speaking of the Yemeni revolution.
Don't worry, you free Yemeni revolutionaries. You are the mothers who exemplify Jibran's slogan, (the face of my mother is the face of my nation,) . The real men are those who are created by their mothers, according to a saying of Balzac. You are the marvelous sisters that incorporate the saying of the Prophet of humanity Mohammad bin Abdullah who says: (women are the twins of men).
You are our revolutionary daughters and granddaughters who sincerely express the essence of equality of heaven and the falsity of human segregation. You are all a logical symbolization to God's justice which didn't distinguish between men and women.
We used before to brag with Belqis and Arwa. The women's role is in fact much greater than what is in the history books that is biased to the ones who wrote them- the men,. I feel a wild desire to kissing the Squares that are covered with the black gowns.
I have a desire to hug the black cold tarmac, that is warmed by the spilt blood and the warmth of the revolutionaries' feet . From now on, I am going to give up Bilqis and Arwa life histories even for some time, and tell millions of accomplishments from Taiz, Demt, Qa'taba, Moreis, Rada', Socatra and others. I pray to God to give me an age so as to tell my grandchlidren the story of the martyrs, (Aziza, Zainab, Tofaha, and Yasmin,) and to see a country that deserves our life and revolution.