Abstract
Who am I after these paths of exodus? I own a boulder that bears my name on a tall bluff overlooking what has come to an end. Seven hundred years escort me beyond the city walls. Time turns around in vain to save my past from a moment that gives birth to the history of my exile in others and in myself. Mahmûd Darwish, “Be a String, Water, to my Guitar”Our eyes and ears refused obedience the princes of our senses proudly chose exile Zbigniew Herbert, “The Power of Taste”Writing is impossible without some kind of exile Julia Kristeva
Talk to us
Join us for a 30 min session where you can share your feedback and ask us any queries you have
Schedule a callSimilar Papers
Disclaimer: All third-party content on this website/platform is and will remain the property of their respective owners and is provided on "as is" basis without any warranties, express or implied. Use of third-party content does not indicate any affiliation, sponsorship with or endorsement by them. Any references to third-party content is to identify the corresponding services and shall be considered fair use under The CopyrightLaw.
