Jai

“دع عنـك لومـي فـإن الـلـوم إغــراءُ
وداونـــي بـالـتـي كــانــت هــــي الــــداءُ
صفـراء لا تـنـزل الأحــزان ساحتـهـا
لــــو مـسـهــا حــجــرٌ مـسـتــهُ ســـــراءُ
مـن كـف ذات حـرٍ فـي زي ذي ذكــرٍ
لـــهـــا مــحــبـــانِ لـــوطــــيٌّ وزنَّـــــــاءُ
قـامــت بإبريـقـهـا والـلـيــل مـعـتـكـرٌ
فــلاح مـــن وجـهـهـا فـــي الـبـيـت لألاءُ
فأرسلـت مـن فــم الإبـريـق صافـيـة كـأنــمــا أخـــذهـــا بـالـعــيــن إغـــفـــاءُ
رقـت عـن المـاء حتـى مــا يلائمـهـا
لـطـافـة ً وجـفــا عـــن شكـلـهـا الــمــاءُ
فـلـو مـزجـت بـهـا نـــوراً لمـازجـهـاحـــتـــى تـــولـــدَ أنــــــوارٌ وأضـــــــواءُ
دارت علـى فتـيـة دان الـزمـان لـهـم
فــمـــا يـصـيـبـهــم إلا بـــمـــا شــــــاؤوا
لـتـلــك أبــكــي ولا أبــكــي لـمـنـزلـةٍ
كــانــت تــحــلُّ بــهــا هــنـــدٌ وأســمـــاءُ
حاشـا لـدرة أن تبـنـى الخـيـام لـهـا
وأن تـــروح عـلـيـهـا الإبــــل والــشــاءُ
فقـلْ لمـن يدعـي فـي العلـم فلسفـةً
حفـظـت شيـئـاً وغـابـت عـنـك أشـيــاءُ
لا تحظر العفوَ إن كنت امرأ ً حرجاًفــــإن حـظــركــه فـــــي الــديـــن إزراءُ”
― أبو نواس, ديوان أبي نواس

“But still I would try to picture the exact moment when the beating of my heart would no longer be going on inside my head.
..
But everybody knows life isn't worth living. Deep down I knew perfectly well that it doesn't much matter whether you die at thirty or at seventy, since in either case other men and women will naturally go on living— and for thousands of years.
..
At that point, what would disturb my train of thought was the terrifying leap I would feel my heart take at the idea of having twenty more years of life ahead of me. But I simply had to stifle it by imagining what I’d be thinking in twenty years when it would all come down to the same thing anyway. Since we’re all going to die, it’s obvious that when and how don’t matter.
..
It would take all my strength to quiet my heart, to be rational.
..
Throughout the whole absurd life I’d lived, a dark wind had been rising toward me from somewhere deep in my future, across years that were still to come, and as it passed, this wind leveled whatever was offered to me at the time, in years no more real than the ones I was living.
..
for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.
..
For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.”
― Albert Camus, The Stranger

“I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still”
― Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

“I don't know what it is like to not have deep emotions. Even when I feel nothing, I feel it completely”
― Sylvia Plath