GAZA CITY, Gaza Strip — “I have no thirst above my forehead ... No love under my skin ... My waist is not snapping ... Nor has the cactus raised itself to my face ... I am on a horse of lust ... Combing the hair of freedom ... The gypsy girl is dancing and inspiring the world”
The poet Hind Jawdah started reading her poems during poetry evenings in Gaza City amid heavy attendance. It was standing room only after all seats in the small area at the French Cultural Center had been taken.