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“تُنسَى، كأنكَ لم تكن
تُنسَى كمصرعِ طائرٍ
ككنيسةٍ مهجورةٍ تُنسَى
كحبٍّ عابرٍ
وكوردةٍ في الليل.. تُنسَى”
― لا تعتذر عما فعلت
تُنسَى كمصرعِ طائرٍ
ككنيسةٍ مهجورةٍ تُنسَى
كحبٍّ عابرٍ
وكوردةٍ في الليل.. تُنسَى”
― لا تعتذر عما فعلت
“وتسأل: ما معنى كلمة وطن؟
سيقولون: هو البيت، وشجرة التّوت، وقنّ الدّجاج، وقفير النّحل، ورائحة الخبز والسّماء الأولى.
وتسأل: هل تتسع كلمة واحدة من ثلاثة أحرف لكلّ هذه المحتويات وتضيق بنا؟”
― الأعمال الكاملة لمحمود درويش
سيقولون: هو البيت، وشجرة التّوت، وقنّ الدّجاج، وقفير النّحل، ورائحة الخبز والسّماء الأولى.
وتسأل: هل تتسع كلمة واحدة من ثلاثة أحرف لكلّ هذه المحتويات وتضيق بنا؟”
― الأعمال الكاملة لمحمود درويش
“I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough.”
― Letters to Felice
― Letters to Felice
“The weak breeze whispers nothing
the water screams sublime.
His feet shift, teeter-totter
deep breaths, stand back, it’s time.
Toes untouch the overpass
soon he’s water-bound.
Eyes locked shut but peek to see
the view from halfway down.
A little wind, a summer sun
a river rich and regal.
A flood of fond endorphins
brings a calm that knows no equal.
You’re flying now, you see things
much more clear than from the ground.
It's all okay, or it would be
were you not now halfway down.
Thrash to break from gravity
what now could slow the drop?
All I’d give for toes to touch
the safety back at top.
But this is it, the deed is done
silence drowns the sound.
Before I leaped I should've seen
the view from halfway down.
I really should’ve thought about
the view from halfway down.
I wish I could've known about
the view from halfway down—”
― BoJack Horseman: The Art Before the Horse
the water screams sublime.
His feet shift, teeter-totter
deep breaths, stand back, it’s time.
Toes untouch the overpass
soon he’s water-bound.
Eyes locked shut but peek to see
the view from halfway down.
A little wind, a summer sun
a river rich and regal.
A flood of fond endorphins
brings a calm that knows no equal.
You’re flying now, you see things
much more clear than from the ground.
It's all okay, or it would be
were you not now halfway down.
Thrash to break from gravity
what now could slow the drop?
All I’d give for toes to touch
the safety back at top.
But this is it, the deed is done
silence drowns the sound.
Before I leaped I should've seen
the view from halfway down.
I really should’ve thought about
the view from halfway down.
I wish I could've known about
the view from halfway down—”
― BoJack Horseman: The Art Before the Horse
“I am as happy here as I have ever been in my life: Ted and I take a long walk each day up to the moors (It’s generally rainy, or at least overcast) and never have I loved country so! All you can see us dark hills of heather stretching toward the horizon, as if you were striding on top of the world; last night at sunset the horizontal light turned us both luminous pink as we hiked in waterproof boots in the wuthering free wind, starting up rabbits that flicked away with a white flag of tail, staring back at the black-faced, gray furred moor sheep that graze, apparently wild, and with their curling horns looking like primeval yellow-eyed druid monsters. I never thought I could like any country as well as the ocean, but these moors are really even better, with the great luminous emerald lights changing always, and the animals and wildness. Read “Wuthering Heights” again here, and really felt it this time more than ever.
--from a letter to her mother Aurelia Schober Plath, written on 11 September 1956”
― Letters of Sylvia Plath, Volume I: 1940-1956
--from a letter to her mother Aurelia Schober Plath, written on 11 September 1956”
― Letters of Sylvia Plath, Volume I: 1940-1956
Ii’s 2025 Year in Books
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