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[alkhimia2i]

[Being holed up in a safehouse as she is, Ana is a little short on stimulating conversation. As much as she might want to resist engaging in this strange magical cellphone, she doesn't hold out for too long. After all, from what she can tell, these people have no idea who she is.

What she posts comes in two pieces, the first a series of lines in Arabic text followed by a helpful translation in English. The second piece is commentary.]

ﺃﺩﻣﻨﺖ ﺍﺣﺰﺍﻧﻲ
ﻓﺼﺮﺕ ﺍﺧﺎﻑ ﺍﻥ ﻻ ﺍﺣﺰﻧﺎ
ﻭﻃﻌﻨﺖ ﺁﻻﻓﺎ ﻣﻦ ﺍﻟﻤﺮﺍﺕ
ﺣﺘﻰ ﺻﺎﺭ ﻳﻮﺟﻌﻨﻲ ﺑﺎﻥ ﻻ ﺍﻃﻌﻨﺎ
ﻭﻟﻌﻨﺖ ﻓﻲ ﻛﻞ ﺍﻟﻠﻐﺎﺕ
ﺣﺘﻰ ﺻﺎﺭ ﻳﻘﻠﻘﻨﻲ ﺑﺎﻥ ﻻ ﺍﻟﻌﻨﺎ
ﻭﻟﻘﺪ ﺗﺸﺎﺑﻬﺖ ﻛﻞ ﺍﻟﺒﻼﺩ
ﻓﻼ ﺍﺭﻯ ﻧﻔﺴﻲ ﻫﻨﺎﻙ، ﻭﻻ ﺍﺭﻯ ﻧﻔﺴﻲ ﻫﻨﺎ

I was addicted to my sorrows,
Until I became scared of not being sorrowful.
And I was stabbed thousands of times,
Until it felt painful not to be stabbed.
And I was cursed in all the languages,
Until I became nervous of not being cursed.
And all the countries seemed the same,
in that I neither see myself there, nor do I see myself here.


I came across this while reading, so I thought I might share it. No particular reason, except than I found it to be moving. I wouldn't mind hearing your opinions.

Comments

[alkhimia2i]

Me? Life. Love. People.

Anything that inspires us to better ourselves is something that I would consider to be truly beautiful. Whether it's a poem that moves us, a mountain that challenges us, or a child that trusts us.

[cosmetological]

Beauty sounds a little terrifying.

[alkhimia2i]

It can be. The same can be said for all of the important things in life.

[cosmetological]

Then I'd say one of the greatest crimes in the world is to destroy something truly beautiful.

[alkhimia2i]

That, I can agree with. Though I have to ask: What brought that on?

[cosmetological]

What brought what on?

The discussion about destruction?

I guess part of that is believing that most beautiful things don't get to last. Not because of anything wrong with them.

The world's not a great place a lot of the time.