“Since they weren't sleepy and nothing had been left unsaid, they began to read poetry to each other, taking turns like children and enjoying it. Bachir had a lovely voice, one that was already that of a man. He knew… — Assia Djebar Copy Share Image
Sometimes fear grips me that these fragile moments of life will fade away. It seems that I write against erasure. — Assia Djebar Copy Share Image
Writing in a foreign language - has brought me to the cries of the women silently rebelling in my youth, to my own true… — Assia Djebar Copy Share Image
“Since they weren't sleepy and nothing had been left unsaid, they began to read poetry to each other, taking turns like children and enjoying… — Assia Djebar Copy Share Image
