Fairuz, you who scattered rays of love in our memory, we love you.
Nothing said about Fairuz could make people stop loving the one who was the anthem in their memories, the melody in their mornings, the breeze of the homeland that they inhaled while they were abroad, the song, the longing, and the conscience that inhabited their memories and sat on the throne of their hearts.
Fairuz celebrated her 80th birthday a few weeks ago. Today, we discovered that we were negligent in showering her with our love and surrounding her with flowers of longing, perhaps because the concerns of the world always make us forget to declare our love to those we love, but perhaps the storm of offensive words to the one who raised the name of Lebanon high, carrying the banner of high art for decades, was an occasion for us to declare our love for Fairuz.
Fairuz used to visit our house with her husband Assi Rahbani because of their friendship with my father. I still have pictures of a party my father held in our house, where he gathered Abdel Halim Hafez, Fairuz, and a group of artists and politicians. Fate did not allow me to meet her that day because I had not yet been born, and I had been wishing to meet her since I was young. With the outbreak of the Lebanese war and our migration, my wish to meet Fairuz was lost, but fate allowed me to meet her twice after I took over as editor-in-chief of “Al-Mawed”, the first time in her home in Raouche with a group of fellow journalists, and that day I found out what my mother used to tell me about Fairuz being a humble artist and she used to tell me that when she and my father were invited to Assi and Fairuz’s house, Fairuz would prepare the food herself, and when I met her in her home in Raouche I found Fairuz to be a humble lady who would make sure to serve food to her guests herself and according to Lebanese traditions she would insist that we eat if she noticed that one of us was eating little, and she was also loving, humble and spontaneous to the utmost degree, talking to everyone and asking and answering away from the glare of stardom.
After several years, Fairuz invited me to meet her at her house in Raouche. We were alone and the appointment was at three in the afternoon. When I knocked on the door, she opened the door herself. No servants, no security men, no secretaries, no business manager, just her, with her smile. We sat for two hours exchanging conversations, jokes and news, moving from politics to art to economic problems to social crises. The beginning of our conversation was about remembering the circumstances of our first meeting. At the time, my mother, the daughter of the hero of Lebanon’s independence, the late Mrs. Alia Riad al-Solh, was visiting me. That day, I stood up to ask her permission to leave, and when Mrs. Alia knew that there was a prior appointment with Fairuz, she smiled and said with love and kindness, “Give my regards to Fairuz, she is my friend.” I actually gave her my greetings and Fairuz asked me to give her my warm regards... Thus, in my second meeting with her, Fairuz expressed her sadness over the passing of Mrs. Alia al-Solh and how her death was a great loss. The conversation between Fairuz and me began to branch out and branch out. She asked me a lot about Sabah and her health, and she also asked me about many artists from Egypt and Lebanon... I interviewed Fairuz without paper, pen or recording. I was watching her as she spoke, laughed and commented. I kept telling myself: Where did she get all this spontaneity and all this modesty? I asked her about many rumors, which she denied and said that she did not know in whose interest these false rumors were raised from time to time.
Our Fairuz... adults are always subject to abuse, but trust that no words can poison our thoughts and pollute our memory that you inhabited after you spread rays of love in it. It is an occasion for us to declare our love for the one whose tenderness has taken over our hearts.
On your eightieth birthday, we offer you love and your audience declares its loyalty to the republic of love, beauty, melody, art and sophistication, on whose throne you have sat and whose corners you have illuminated with your voice. No matter what they say or say, our Fairuz was and will remain a pioneer of art, goodness and beauty. Instead of wars of words, we declare our love to you.
Fairuz celebrated her 80th birthday a few weeks ago. Today, we discovered that we were negligent in showering her with our love and surrounding her with flowers of longing, perhaps because the concerns of the world always make us forget to declare our love to those we love, but perhaps the storm of offensive words to the one who raised the name of Lebanon high, carrying the banner of high art for decades, was an occasion for us to declare our love for Fairuz.
Fairuz used to visit our house with her husband Assi Rahbani because of their friendship with my father. I still have pictures of a party my father held in our house, where he gathered Abdel Halim Hafez, Fairuz, and a group of artists and politicians. Fate did not allow me to meet her that day because I had not yet been born, and I had been wishing to meet her since I was young. With the outbreak of the Lebanese war and our migration, my wish to meet Fairuz was lost, but fate allowed me to meet her twice after I took over as editor-in-chief of “Al-Mawed”, the first time in her home in Raouche with a group of fellow journalists, and that day I found out what my mother used to tell me about Fairuz being a humble artist and she used to tell me that when she and my father were invited to Assi and Fairuz’s house, Fairuz would prepare the food herself, and when I met her in her home in Raouche I found Fairuz to be a humble lady who would make sure to serve food to her guests herself and according to Lebanese traditions she would insist that we eat if she noticed that one of us was eating little, and she was also loving, humble and spontaneous to the utmost degree, talking to everyone and asking and answering away from the glare of stardom.
After several years, Fairuz invited me to meet her at her house in Raouche. We were alone and the appointment was at three in the afternoon. When I knocked on the door, she opened the door herself. No servants, no security men, no secretaries, no business manager, just her, with her smile. We sat for two hours exchanging conversations, jokes and news, moving from politics to art to economic problems to social crises. The beginning of our conversation was about remembering the circumstances of our first meeting. At the time, my mother, the daughter of the hero of Lebanon’s independence, the late Mrs. Alia Riad al-Solh, was visiting me. That day, I stood up to ask her permission to leave, and when Mrs. Alia knew that there was a prior appointment with Fairuz, she smiled and said with love and kindness, “Give my regards to Fairuz, she is my friend.” I actually gave her my greetings and Fairuz asked me to give her my warm regards... Thus, in my second meeting with her, Fairuz expressed her sadness over the passing of Mrs. Alia al-Solh and how her death was a great loss. The conversation between Fairuz and me began to branch out and branch out. She asked me a lot about Sabah and her health, and she also asked me about many artists from Egypt and Lebanon... I interviewed Fairuz without paper, pen or recording. I was watching her as she spoke, laughed and commented. I kept telling myself: Where did she get all this spontaneity and all this modesty? I asked her about many rumors, which she denied and said that she did not know in whose interest these false rumors were raised from time to time.
Our Fairuz... adults are always subject to abuse, but trust that no words can poison our thoughts and pollute our memory that you inhabited after you spread rays of love in it. It is an occasion for us to declare our love for the one whose tenderness has taken over our hearts.
On your eightieth birthday, we offer you love and your audience declares its loyalty to the republic of love, beauty, melody, art and sophistication, on whose throne you have sat and whose corners you have illuminated with your voice. No matter what they say or say, our Fairuz was and will remain a pioneer of art, goodness and beauty. Instead of wars of words, we declare our love to you.