In 2011, he decided to return to Lebanon and lay the foundations of his new house in his native village, Kefraya, el-Koura, so he could finally ‘take a rest.’ But destiny had different plans, dictating his demise on the morning of February 22, 2015. I can still recall him reading poetry to us in the early seventies when he addressed death saying ‘I pity you for you never cease to spin  ... Are you not tired yet!’ Some time later, he released his first Diwan- a collection of poems- entitled If Man were to Blossom like Roses. Subtle, gracious and tactful, Fawzi Chalak withered like a delicate rose. “Tread softly, walk gently, for I believe the soil of this earth is nothing but the crumbled dust of these bodies,” said Abou Al-Alaa Al-Ma’arri.

During his short stay in Lebanon, Fawzi Chalak edited The Monthly magazine, Tahawoulat Mashriqiya and a number of publications by the publishing house, Kutub. He belonged to a generation that sought and dreamed of a better world, yet suffered the ordeal of seeing this dream shattered in Palestine, Egypt, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon due to the world going crazy and the decline in critical thinking. He will be sorely missed and his absence will be felt by The Monthly’s family, his kinship and friends and all the devotees of Arabic literature. 
 
Fawzi Chalak will be forever admired for his rich repertoire, gracefulness and uniqueness. To his wife Souad and his children, Karma, Rama and Rami, may you find consolation in knowing that he was a man who loved, labored and excelled.