Sarah Adeeb
https://t.me/distanace
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more”
―
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more”
―
“وجد الانسان فأوحيت له الموسيقى من العلاء لغة ليست كاللغات تحكى ما يكنه القلب للقلب فهى حديث القلوب و هى كالحب عم تأثيرها الناس”
―
―
“أيها الماضي! لا تغيِّرنا كلما ابتعدنا عنك!
أيها المستقبل! لا تسألنا: من أنتم؟ وماذا تريدون مني؟ فنحن أيضاً لا نعرف.
أيها الحاضر! تحمَّلنا قليلاً. فلسنا سوى عابري سبيل ثقلاء الظل!”
―
أيها المستقبل! لا تسألنا: من أنتم؟ وماذا تريدون مني؟ فنحن أيضاً لا نعرف.
أيها الحاضر! تحمَّلنا قليلاً. فلسنا سوى عابري سبيل ثقلاء الظل!”
―
“I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every moment holy.
I am too tiny in this world, and not tiny enough
just to lie before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action;
and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times,
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
I want to be a mirror for your whole body,
and I never want to be blind, or to be too old
to hold up your heavy and swaying picture.
I want to unfold.
I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
and I want my grasp of things to be
true before you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,
like a saying that I finally understood,
like the pitcher I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that carried me
through the wildest storm of all.”
― Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
to make every moment holy.
I am too tiny in this world, and not tiny enough
just to lie before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action;
and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times,
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
I want to be a mirror for your whole body,
and I never want to be blind, or to be too old
to hold up your heavy and swaying picture.
I want to unfold.
I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
and I want my grasp of things to be
true before you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,
like a saying that I finally understood,
like the pitcher I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that carried me
through the wildest storm of all.”
― Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
Sarah’s 2025 Year in Books
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