Mr_alqaissy

“As mankind grew obsessed with its hours, the sorrow of lost time became a permanent hole in the human heart. People fretted over missed chances, over inefficient days; they worried constantly about how long they would live, because counting life’s moments had led, inevitably, to counting them down. Soon, in every nation and in every language, time became the most precious commodity.”
― Mitch Albom, The Time Keeper

“قل أعوذو

مدّ بوزه

الجبان

إبن الجبانه

كَل غدانا

قام لقانا

شعب طيب

كل عشانا

1968”
― أحمد فؤاد نجم, أحمد فؤاد نجم: الأعمال الشعرية الكاملة

“No parent should have to bury a child ... No mother should have to bury a son. Mothers are not meant to bury sons. It is not in the natural order of things.
I buried my son. In a potter's field. In a field of Blood. In empty, acrid silence. There was no funeral. There were no mourners. His friends all absent. His father dead. His sisters refusing to attend. I discovered his body alone, I dug his grave alone, I placed him in a hole, and covered him with dirt and rock alone. I was not able to finish burying him before sundown, and I'm not sure if that affected his fate ...
I begrudge God none of this. I do not curse him or bemoan my lot. And though my heart keeps beating only to keep breaking--I do not question why.
I remember the morning my son was born as if it was yesterday. The moment the midwife placed him in my arms, I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding. I remember holding my son, and looking over at my own mother and saying, "Now I understand why the sun comes up at day and the stars come out at night. I understand why rain falls gently. Now I understand you, Mother" ...
I loved my son every day of his life, and I will love him ferociously long after I've stopped breathing. I am a simple woman. I am not bright or learn-ed. I do not read. I do not write. My opinions are not solicited. My voice is not important ... On the day of my son's birth I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding ... The world tells me that God is in Heaven and that my son is in Hell. I tell the world the one true thing I know: If my son is in Hell, then there is no Heaven--because if my son sits in Hell, there is no God.”
― Stephen Adly Guirgis, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot

“- أنكون ..

ياترى أم لا نكون !

أمن الحكمة أن نحيا الحياة ..

كيفما كانت .. ونرضى حظنا ،

أم نخوض البحر فى هول الصراع ..

عزلا .. دون شراع ،

أم ترى الحكمة فى أن ننتحر ؟ !

يا دجى .. ياصمت .. يا .. يا .. ياجنون ..

أنكون ..

ياترى أم لانكون !

- يا سؤالا حائراً منذ قرون ،

هائما ليس يقر !

- أيها الهاتف من أنت ؟ !

- أنا بصقة قبر !

- أنا خفاش عجوز ،

يكره الضوء كما تكره أنت الظلمات ،

أيها الضارب فى التيه بليل ..

كيف فى التيه المفر ؟

يا صديقى .. خذ طريقى .. وانتحر !

- انتحر ؟ !

- راحة الراحات ، ترياق الألم ،

وخلاصات خلاصات الحكم ..

أنت لاتملك غير الكلمات ،

حيلة العاجز عن كل الحيل

( كلمات .. كلمات .. كلمات )

غُصْنُ صفصاف هزيل ..

أى عُكّاز وفى الدرب ملايين الحفر !

أوشك الديك يصيح ،

وسَرَتْ كالسم أنفاس الصباح ،

فوداعاً .. أو اذا شئت اختصر ..

وليكن وشْك لقاء !

- أيها الهاتف قف ..

أيها الهاتف قف ..

......................

أنكون ..

يا ترى ..

أم لا نكون !!”
― نجيب سرور, لزوم ما يلزم