Nour

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غادة السمان
“لن أموت، حتى أرسم اللوحة”
غادة السمان, عيناك قدري

فاروق جويدة
“فماذا سأفعل يا أصدقاء
أتيت إليكم بلحنٍ جريح
لأن زماني زمانٌ قبيح
فجدران بيتي دمارٌ ... وريح
وبين الجوانح قلبٌ ذبيح !”
فاروق جويدة, شيء سيبقى بيننا

Charles Baudelaire
“I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see
The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.”
Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

“... [In 'Pride and Prejudice'] Mr Collins's repulsiveness in his letter [about Lydia's elopement] does not exist only at the level of the sentence: it permeates all aspects of his rhetoric. Austen's point is that the well-formed sentence belongs to a self-enclosed mind, incapable of sympathetic connections with others and eager to inflict as much pain as is compatible with a thin veneer of politeness. Whereas Blair judged the Addisonian sentence as a completely autonomous unit, Austen judges the sentence as the product of a pre-existing moral agent. What counts is the sentence's ability to reveal that agent, not to enshrine a free-standing morsel of truth.

Mr Darcy's letter to Elizabeth, in contrast, features a quite different practice of the sentence, including an odd form of punctation ... The dashes in Mr Darcy's letter transform the typographical sentence by physically making each sentence continuous with the next one. ... The dashes insist that each sentence is not self-sufficient but belongs to a larger macrostructure. Most of Mr Darcy's justification consists not of organised arguments like those of Mr Collins but of narrative. ... The letter's totality exists not in the typographical sentence but in the described event.”
Andrew Elfenbein, Romanticism and the Rise of English

فاروق جويدة
“حينما تنهار فينا ..
دهشة الأشياءِ ننسى
كل معنى للسؤال.”
فاروق جويدة, شيء سيبقى بيننا

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