malak > malak's Quotes

“Some periods of our growth are so confusing that we don’t even recognize that growth is what is happening. We may feel hostile or angry or weepy and hysterical, or we may feel depressed. It would never occur to us, unless we stumbled on a book or person who explained it to us, that we were in fact in the process of change, of actually becoming larger, spiritually, than we were before. Whenever we grow, we tend to feel it, as a young seed must feel the weight and inertia of the earth as it seeks to break out of its shell on its way to becoming a plant. Often the feeling is anything but pleasant. But what is most unpleasant is the not knowing what is happening . . . Those long periods when something inside ourselves seems to be waiting, holding its breath, unsure about what the next step should be, eventually become the periods we wait for, for it is in those periods that we realize that we are being prepared for the next phase of our life and that, in all probability, a new level of the personality is about to be revealed.”
― Alice Walker, Living by the Word: Essays

“كُلُّ ما في بَلْـدَتي
يَمـلأُ قلـبي بالكَمَـدْ .
بَلْـدَتي غُربـةُ روحٍ وَجَسَـدْ
غُربَـةٌ مِن غَيرِ حَـدّْ
غُربَـةٌ فيها الملاييـنُ
وما فيها أحَـدْ .
غُربَـةٌ مَوْصـولَةٌ
تبـدأُ في المَهْــدِ
ولا عَـوْدَةَ منها .. للأبَـدْ !
* * *
شِئتُ أنْ أغتـالَ مَوتي
فَتَسلّحـتُ بِصوتـي :
أيُّهـا الشِّعـرُ لَقَـدْ طالَ الأَمَـدْ
أهلَكَتني غُربَتي ، يا أيُّها الشِّعرُ ،
فكُـنْ أنتَ البَلَـدْ .
نَجِّـني من بَلْـدَةٍ لا صوتَ يغشاها
سِـوى صوتِ السّكوتْ !
أهلُها موتى يَخافـونَ المَنايا
والقبورُ انتَشرَتْ فيها على شَكْلِ بُيوتْ
ماتَ حتّى المــوتُ
. . والحاكِـمُ فيها لا يمـوتْ !
ذُرَّ صوتي ، أيُّها الشّعرُ ، بُروقـاً
في مفازاتِ الرّمَـدْ .
صُبَّـهُ رَعْـداً على الصّمتِ
وناراً في شرايينِ البَرَدْ .
ألْقِــهِ أفعـى
إلى أفئِـدَةِ الحُكّامِ تسعى
وافلِـقِ البَحْـرَ
وأطبِقْـهُ على نَحْـرِ الأساطيلِ
وأعنـاقِ المَساطيلِ
وطَهِّـرْ مِن بقاياهُمْ قَذاراتِ الزَّبَـدْ .
إنَّ فِرعَــونَ طغى ، يا أيُّها الشّعـرُ ،
فأيقِظْ مَـنْ رَقَـدْ .
قُل هوَ اللّهُ أحَـدْ
قُل هوَ الّلهُ أحَـدْ
قُل هوَ الّلهُ أحَـدْ
* * *
قالَها الشِّعـرُ
وَمَـدَّ الصّـوتَ ، والصّـوتُ نَفَـدْ
وأتـى مِنْ بَعْـدِ بَعـدْ
واهِـنَ الرّوحِ مُحاطاً بالرّصَـدْ
فَـوقَ أشـداقِ دراويشٍ
يَمُـدّونَ صـدى صوتـي على نحْـريَ
حبـلاً مِن مَسَـدْ
وَيَصيْحــونَ " مَـدَدْ " !”
― احمد مطر

“I want to make love, but my hair smells of war and running and running.”
― Warsan Shire, Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth

“هناك نوعا من الناس, مثلي, لا يمكنه حسم كل حياته, كلها, لآخر ذرة في قلبه, من أجل أي شئ في الدنيا, و قدره أن يبقي "مشتتا" كالندي فوق العشب, بدل أن تتوحد كل قطراته لتكون جدولا أو نهرا, و تحسم نفسها باتجاه ما, اتجاه واحد لا رجعة عنه ولا شك في, أعني أنني من هذا النوع الذي لا يحيا من أجل شئ إلا بنصف قلب, علي الأكثر, و كل شروره تأتي من نصف القلب هذا, إن بقي لديه قلب أصلا.”
― حسين البرغوثي, الضوء الأزرق

“وأفكر و أفكر و أفكر , لا قلبي يشعر بما أفكر به و لا عقلي يتوقف عن الهيمنة على روحي , كل فكرة قطعة حطب يابسة .. نقطة .”
― حسين البرغوثي, الضوء الأزرق

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

“The less you eat, drink and read books; the less you go to the theatre, the dance hall, the public house; the less you think, love, theorize, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you save-the greater becomes your treasure which neither moths nor dust will devour-your capital. The less you are, the more you have; the less you express your own life, the greater is your alienated life-the greater is the store of your estranged being.”
― Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels

“From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that ia eternity.”
― Edvard Munch

“Human fates are like planets

Like a star that emerges
from the dark –
and meets another star –
shines for a second before disappearing again
into the dark – [it is] in this way – in this way
a man and a woman meet – glide towards
one another are illuminated in love’s
flames – to then disappear
in their separate directions –
Only a few meet in a
single large blaze – where they both
can be fully united”
― Edvard Munch

“سَوطُ الليلِ يُلهِبُ أَضْلُعِي
ويزيدُ من عبثِ الهمومِ بِمفرقِي
أَرهقتُ أحلامي، ذَبَحْتُ قصائدِي
فِي معبدِ الشمسِ التي لَمْ تُشرقِ
وصهرتُ في قلبِ الجحيمِ دفاتري
ودفعتُ في لُججِ المخاطرِ زَورَقِي
كَمْ ماتَ فجرٌ في جدارِ حديقَتِي
حتَّى ظنَنْتُ بأنَّهُ لَم يُخلَقِ”
― محمد الثبيتي, ديوان محمد الثبيتي الأعمال الكاملة

“A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan

“What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath