Cultural Village.. Dubai’s creative destination
The Cultural District in Dubai is a leap in kind, a force in form, a skill in substance, and a mastery in achievement. It indicates a cultural project that bears on its shoulders the story of a homeland whose vision has always been in the direction of writing history with letters filled with ink from the fluidity of the poem, the insight of the poet, and the chivalry of the word as it surges in the fields of refinement, and roams the tracks of leadership for a mind that has in knowledge the house of wisdom, and in creative passion the status of the stars, and in steps towards the future the wings of seagulls, and in leaps the hooves of horses galloping, striking fire.
This morning we rose to the candles of the sun that carried within its folds live news that has the characteristic of astonishment when it inhabits the hearts of those dreaming of a day whose sky shines with the fringes of its fabric of meanings that link the word to the economic renaissance in whose fields Dubai frolics, and whose responsibilities are assumed by the poet of the garden of the word, and a knight who has persisted in establishing the will on the back of the poisoned horses.
Here we contemplate the cultural scene in Dubai and the Emirates in general, after a short time, how will it end up as it spreads its wings in the distance, and how will intellectuals receive this cloud as it enriches our Arab world with creativity that does not wane or tremble, creativity that lies in the conscience of a leader who has taken upon himself the responsibility of humanity, just as he bears the burden of the word carried on the shoulder of a poem filled with bonds of kinship with the flower of the creative theme, since creativity is the secret, it is the exploration, and it is the process of building human feelings perfumed with transparency, infused with the scent of the ghaf and the braids of the faithful palm tree.
This is how we received the news of the most important project, the Cultural District project. This is how the morning’s spirit rose up with a faithful radiance with our feelings, and the sun’s eyelashes, as they made their final statement, were recording for the days a new dawn and a day that walks on the shores of memory like a quail, and moves within us the breezes of its revelation, woven with the silk of joy, and its signs point to the sound of light when it harmonizes the melody of greenery within us, and the movement of the stars as they search for their place in our hearts.
On the morning of this most important news, I was struck by the soft touch of fingers stained with the chivalry of femininity, so I paid attention to the action of history, and how it is like a wave when it moves the fins of joy in the conscience and shows and repeats what the soul may pray for, as it is quenched by the pure mineral water, and sips drops of the rain of the most beautiful surprises, and the tremor in the heart moves by the movement of the winds under the sheet of the night that brought the dream, so the morning turned the dream into reality, and there was joy, the soul was applauding those who crown our heads with the glory of the word and crown our souls with terms that in their entirety and meaning are for the future for generations that will open their eyes to a monument that raises the head, and immortalizes the name of the maker of the glory of this homeland, this habitat that has always opened its mornings with achievements as if they were stars staring at the face of the sky, and granting the earth a spark that grants it a gasp of joy.
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