Rojaria

Kiss a woman's hair by smelling it,
Gently put your head on your shoulder,
Stay close to your breath,
Sing true lines into his ear,
Throw words from your heart into your hair,
And then sit down and put your head on your knee
Then his love surrenders
And that woman is love...

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In the streets of a geography whose mountains have fallen in love, in the culture of streets where stones are not missing; I grew up in cities where people whose language, race and culture were banned would run away to listen to a song in their own language. I grew up among dark-skinned children whose love was a story of the night, their resistance, their legendary looks, and their deep smiles. After days, months and time, I witnessed the feelings and forbidden love of a child who grew up with these prohibitions and paid a price. I saw the eyes of Rojaria in the eyes of a child who grew up with the emotions of my love, which brought the roads, feelings, heart, thoughts, universe and sky to its knees for the sake of it. Two individuals of a forbidden love... One is a woman who broke 5 thousand years of male oppression, the other is a man who rebelled against 5 thousand years of male domination... Roj-Arya love is a story that brings a smile to the faces of children in the streets of Kurdistan. The love of Rojaria is a poem to the mountains of Kurdistan