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Kharaabat
By Yousef Kohzad
Translated by Aziz Ahang Herawi
We go back about half a century [1920s] and enter one of the old streets of Kabul. If one looks down from the tip of Asmai or Sher-Darwaaza Mountains on to the city, the old Kabul seems like a sleeping dragon laying on the chest of these two mountains. Its sweet memories seem to converse confidentially with a river that looks like the dry and thirsty artery of this dragon...
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