Is it possible, O God, for Al-Kawthar to become an alternative homeland for its people who come to it against their will from all directions? It has already become that way, and there is no alternative to it except streets that have no mercy on their residents. Al-Kawthar, the breezes of the Nile reach it, O Taher, and its people are kept company by birds that live on top of a mulberry tree, and cats that breed in the narrow courtyard, and you cannot see any of them in the vicinity of the rooms of the people of the place who sleep in front of the television screen at the beginning of the night, under the influence of various drugs. Colors and sizes, and they wake up exhausted, at first light, to have tea with milk and successive cigarettes, before breakfast accompanied by a new portion of drugs.