Village du Ciel – Lebanon Village of Heaven

Description

This book with its texts and illustrations is a show of wonderment and presents itself as a song of love. It first speaks of the simple wonder felt when one is faced with all the beauty of this land of Lebanon and of this village clinging to a wooded mountainside from which one perceives the distant sea. It is with deep emotion that we discover the pathways and the sinuous flights of steps going up to the village square basking in the sun, as one may well imagine anywhere around the Mediterranean. But we also find the gushing springs which with their bubbling murmur discreetly but tirelessly spread freshness and life. Nature is sweetly welcoming, but the men also take part in this joyful simplicity.

“Lebanon Village of Heaven”

(12.5 x 9.5 inches, 95 pages – Editions LO TEDHAL), comes with a free music CD illustrating the book. Weight: 1.1 Kg

The book is written in seven languages:
French, English, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Dutch and Arabic, and has a very elegant, strong cover
Editors: Mansour Labaky
Photographer: Mounir Nasr

Editors of the book:

Mansour Labaky, priest, comes from Lebanon. He devotes his life to serving underprivileged children. Through his writings and his songs, he teaches peace through tolerance. His book “Kfar Sama” (from which the texts in this current publication are drawn) tells the story of a Lebanese village, which despite the scars of war, resisted “with all its soul, with all its strength, and with all its tears”.

Mounir Nasr is a professional photographer from Lebanon. He has received numerous international awards. He has traveled throughout Lebanon in order to record, as a poet and as an artist, the faces, and landscapes which accompany Father Labaky’s texts like a melody of memory and nostalgia.

Extracts of the book in English:

Once upon a time, there was a little Lebanese village, nestled in the wooded flank of a marvelous mountain. It was born one evening (or was it a morning?), now buried in long-past ages, no one could say just when.

Ah, contemplate within yourselves the six hundred nests of Kfar Sama… They were humble, but so much in harmony with their landscapes, so peaceful among the trees and flowers… One went from one to the other on little paths lined with bindweed, up odd-shaped stairs, and through exquisite little gardens.

With so many other little villages on earth, naive and old-fashioned like their landscapes, Kfar Sama kept a child’s heart which beat at the rhythm of its faith, of its tenderness, and of nature; a heart which had the patience of winters that hold seeds…

Karim – have I already told you? – was born one winter evening. He first opened his eyes to a world dressed in white. That particular winter the north wind was plucking at the clouds more than usual.

That winter Kfar Sama added up almost as many snowmen as inhabitants. And the snowballs, thrown by the children, whirled through the air dense as snowflakes.

Once again the earth awakens from its long winter sleep. Life is born again on the plains; softly it climbs up the mountains…

Soon they will take off their ermine mantle and again put on their tunics with the colors of the rainbow.

Oh! This smell of undershrubs and happy childhood! What a sweet gift, so good and so easy to share. Are these only the poor joys of poor people?

Somewhere in Kfar Sama a rooster crowed. Jeddo awoke immediately and prayed: “Blessed are you, O God, for this new day. May we, with your help, live through it in goodness, beauty, and peace. Amin”

Extraits du livre en Français:

Il était une fois un petit village libanais, niché sur le flanc boisé d’une merveilleuse montagne. Il naquit un soir – ou un matin- ? enfoui dans le lointain des âges, nul n’aurait su dire quand.

Oh, regardez en vous, les six cents nids de Kfar Sama… Ils étaient humbles, mais si en harmonie avec leurs paysages, si paisibles parmi les arbres et les fleurs… On passait de l’un à l’autre par des sentiers bordés de liserons, des escaliers biscornus et d’exquis jardinets.

Kfar Sama, avec tant d’autres petits villages de la terre, naïfs et archaïques comme leurs paysages, gardait un coeur d’enfant qui battait rythme de sa foi, de ses tendresses et de la nature; un coeur qui avait la patience des hivers couvant les semences…

Karim – vous l’ai-je déjà dit?- naquit un soir d’hiver. Il ouvrit les yeux sur un monde tout blanc. C’est que, cet hiver-là, le vent du Nord plumait les nuages bien plus que de raison.

Cet hiver-là, Kfar Sama compta presque autant de bonshommes de neige que d’habitants. Et les boules de neige, lancées par les enfants, tourbillonnaient dans l’air, aussi drues que les flocons.

Une fois de plus la terre s’éveille de son long sommeil hivernal. La vie renaît dans les plaines, escalade tout doucement les montagnes…

Bientôt, elles quitteront leurs mantes d’hermines et revêtiront leurs tuniques aux couleurs d’arc-en-ciel.

Oh! ce parfum de sous-bois et d’enfance heureuse; ce doux cadeau, si facile et si bon à partager. N’est-ce là que pauvre bonheur de pauvres gens?

Quelque part dans Kfar Sama, un coq chanta. Geddo s’éveilla aussitôt et pria: “Béni sois-tu, Allah, pour ce jour nouveau. Fais qu’ avec ton aide, nous le vivions dans le bon, le beau et la paix. Amine”.

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