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“كبرنا. كم كبرنا، والطريق إلي السماء طويلةٌ”
― لا أريد لهذي القصيدة أن تنتهي
― لا أريد لهذي القصيدة أن تنتهي
“*واذا لم يكن من الموت بد
فمن العجز ان تموت جبانا”
―
فمن العجز ان تموت جبانا”
―
“يمكن لي أن أنقسم عن أي واحد
عدا من يحتويني ضمنه،
أي واحد يمكنه أن يهب العطايا،
خص لي أحداً مانعا”
― رباعيات جلال الدين الرومي
عدا من يحتويني ضمنه،
أي واحد يمكنه أن يهب العطايا،
خص لي أحداً مانعا”
― رباعيات جلال الدين الرومي
“صدقنى انا زاهد بالصدفة .. او من غير قصد
انا طاير آه .. لكن علشان مش لاقى الارض
صدقنى انا كان نفسى اتعلق .. ف حاجات ياما
وأعيش احساس ان انا فعلا من غيرها هموت
انا اعرف اعيش
من غير ما احتاج انى اقرا الوقت
من غير ولا واحد م اللى اعرفهم دلوقت
انا اعرف اعيش من غير اسمى
او سنتوف بره حدود جسمى”
― المانيفستو
انا طاير آه .. لكن علشان مش لاقى الارض
صدقنى انا كان نفسى اتعلق .. ف حاجات ياما
وأعيش احساس ان انا فعلا من غيرها هموت
انا اعرف اعيش
من غير ما احتاج انى اقرا الوقت
من غير ولا واحد م اللى اعرفهم دلوقت
انا اعرف اعيش من غير اسمى
او سنتوف بره حدود جسمى”
― المانيفستو
“The earth turned to bring us closer,
it spun on itself and within us,
and finally joined us together in this dream
as written in the Symposium.
Nights passed by, snowfalls and solstices;
time passed in minutes and millennia.
An ox cart that was on its way to Nineveh
arrived in Nebraska.
A rooster was singing some distance from the world,
in one of the thousand pre-lives of our fathers.
The earth was spinning with its music carrying us on board;
it didn't stop turning a single moment
as if so much love, so much that's miraculous
was only an adagio written long ago
in the Symposium's score.”
― The Trees: Selected Poems 1967-2004
it spun on itself and within us,
and finally joined us together in this dream
as written in the Symposium.
Nights passed by, snowfalls and solstices;
time passed in minutes and millennia.
An ox cart that was on its way to Nineveh
arrived in Nebraska.
A rooster was singing some distance from the world,
in one of the thousand pre-lives of our fathers.
The earth was spinning with its music carrying us on board;
it didn't stop turning a single moment
as if so much love, so much that's miraculous
was only an adagio written long ago
in the Symposium's score.”
― The Trees: Selected Poems 1967-2004
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