PrefaceSonoric CuresThere were sonoric cures we used to call the medicines for the body and the soul. A kind of Silly Apocrypha, considered by some sages and well-preserved by Sufis of this region. Perhaps, they were handed down from the Chaldean heritage. God knows. It was war-time in Kosovo. We were accustomed with the acoustic contamination from the fighter-jets. I was reading Atma Puja Upanisadas by Osho; the craziest book for the most absurd times in order to escape madness. I wanted to be a cat for the first time in my life, since I could not walk around freely while cats were copulating by the wall of my aunt where I took refuge. Alicia Bernal was constantly calling me from The Philippines to migrate there. She wanted to rescue an artist. About 17 months passed after the time when Alicia got out of her bathtub, her left foot slipped on the shiny porcelain floor, and she hit her head, spilling blood all around her. She whispered, Kyrie Eleyson. The kind of death I have been longing to face for ages! What a loss for people from all continents whom she embraced for years! She was planning my flight for Christmas this year. A few years after she sent me a Gold Medal for Poetry as the Bridge to Nations. My happiness had reached the clouds upon hearing her intent. Reason and Woman always comprised my Goddess. She was my trinity. Fahredin Shehu