Madam, Mistress of “the Voice”..

Peace be upon you.

You have done me a kindness in presenting me with a copy of “the Voice” — a favor I recall to you with thanks and receive with delight. But it has stirred in me an argument for an old belief of mine: that living talents cannot fail to rise toward some outlet, even in an environment where torpor prevails and mind and heart are weighed down with the illusions of traditions, of imitation, and of despotism.

If there are precious talents in Syria — and I hold that there are — then it is my certainty that no constraint will shake them, nor will political obstacles do them harm. Rather they are as fire latent in the ashes, and a day must come when a wind blows upon them that scatters the ashes and kindles the fire. Nor is that day, then, far off; for the breeze is the first of the breaths the storm exhales. If the first of the rain is a drop, the first of the storm is a breeze.

This — and I thank you, Madam, to accept my kindest greetings and my best wishes.

Mikhail Naimy

New York February 24, 1944