I went searching the news for companions. I saw Al-Nabigha and walked with him in the streets of Al-Hirah. I stood with him at the door of King Al-Nu'man. The stones told me the story of Al-Hirah. No city's name suits another city, as Al-Hirah suits Al-Hirah. The stones told me its kings, its swords, its stone shields, and its star. And after all that, they told me its mud. Why does the earth fold up ancient cities as if to hide them from newcomers? Does time fear that man will see its mud? Does it force man to repeat his tragedy? And I saw with my own eyes the end of the mud and the emergence of light. I saw the light of the Prophet that grew like the stars of the dark nights. I saw how man is freed from his filth. I also saw that mud is written on man between his eyes. That is all. Here are stars and mud. Here is your story, which will be told after two thousand years