Bahaa Mostafa Kamel
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(page 50 of 286)
"لا إملك أجوبة سوى أني أحملك مسؤولية الخراب الذي لحق بسعادتنا. لا أنتظر أجوبة لحيرتي، فأنت منذ زمن بعيد اخترت أن تقتلك الفلسفة الوجودية والأسئلة التي لا تفضي إلا إلى مزيد من الخسارات والصمت .." — Apr 28, 2013 11:16AM
"لا إملك أجوبة سوى أني أحملك مسؤولية الخراب الذي لحق بسعادتنا. لا أنتظر أجوبة لحيرتي، فأنت منذ زمن بعيد اخترت أن تقتلك الفلسفة الوجودية والأسئلة التي لا تفضي إلا إلى مزيد من الخسارات والصمت .." — Apr 28, 2013 11:16AM
Bahaa Mostafa Kamel
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(page 19 of 287)
"أرى القاهرة الآن رجلاً معصوب العينين، مطروحاً فوق ظهره، ينتظر قدراً خفياً ..." — Feb 22, 2013 03:30AM
"أرى القاهرة الآن رجلاً معصوب العينين، مطروحاً فوق ظهره، ينتظر قدراً خفياً ..." — Feb 22, 2013 03:30AM
Bahaa Mostafa Kamel
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(page 36 of 173)
"تضحك المحزون وتزيد المبتسم ابتساماً، فلا يغتاظ البسيط وتعجب الحصيف بالإبداع، لا يزدريها البليغ ولا يمتنع الحكيم عن مدحها ..." — Feb 12, 2013 05:52AM
"تضحك المحزون وتزيد المبتسم ابتساماً، فلا يغتاظ البسيط وتعجب الحصيف بالإبداع، لا يزدريها البليغ ولا يمتنع الحكيم عن مدحها ..." — Feb 12, 2013 05:52AM
“When Hitler marched
across the Rhine
To take the land of France,
La dame de fer decided,
‘Let’s make the tyrant dance.’
Let him take the land and city,
The hills and every flower,
One thing he will never have,
The elegant Eiffel Tower.
The French cut the cables,
The elevators stood still,
‘If he wants to reach the top,
Let him walk it, if he will.’
The invaders hung a swastika
The largest ever seen.
But a fresh breeze blew
And away it flew,
Never more to be seen.
They hung up a second mark,
Smaller than the first,
But a patriot climbed
With a thought in mind:
‘Never your duty shirk.’
Up the iron lady
He stealthily made his way,
Hanging the bright tricolour,
He heroically saved the day.
Then, for some strange reason,
A mystery to this day,
Hitler never climbed the tower,
On the ground he had to stay.
At last he ordered she be razed
Down to a twisted pile.
A futile attack, for still she stands
Beaming her metallic smile.”
― Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
across the Rhine
To take the land of France,
La dame de fer decided,
‘Let’s make the tyrant dance.’
Let him take the land and city,
The hills and every flower,
One thing he will never have,
The elegant Eiffel Tower.
The French cut the cables,
The elevators stood still,
‘If he wants to reach the top,
Let him walk it, if he will.’
The invaders hung a swastika
The largest ever seen.
But a fresh breeze blew
And away it flew,
Never more to be seen.
They hung up a second mark,
Smaller than the first,
But a patriot climbed
With a thought in mind:
‘Never your duty shirk.’
Up the iron lady
He stealthily made his way,
Hanging the bright tricolour,
He heroically saved the day.
Then, for some strange reason,
A mystery to this day,
Hitler never climbed the tower,
On the ground he had to stay.
At last he ordered she be razed
Down to a twisted pile.
A futile attack, for still she stands
Beaming her metallic smile.”
― Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
“How does your patient, doctor?
Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.
Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.
Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.”
― Macbeth
Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.
Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.
Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself.”
― Macbeth
“مأساتي و مأساتُك أنني أحبك بصورة أكبر من أن أخفيها و أعمق من أن تطمريها”
― رسائل غسان كنفاني إلى غادة السمان
― رسائل غسان كنفاني إلى غادة السمان
“ما اجهل الناس الذين يتوهّمون ان المحبة تتولد بالمعاشرة الطويلة والمرافقة المستمرة.
ان المحبة الحقيقية هي ابنة التفاهم الروحي وان لم يتم هذا التفاهم الروحي بلحظة واحدة لا يتم بعام ولا بجيل كامل”
― The Broken Wings
ان المحبة الحقيقية هي ابنة التفاهم الروحي وان لم يتم هذا التفاهم الروحي بلحظة واحدة لا يتم بعام ولا بجيل كامل”
― The Broken Wings
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