Purple Rose of Cairo

This is a space for free expression and to speak out against hypocrisy; It’s a space where we can speak of daily problems no matter how trivial; It’s a space for confronting our issues and discussing them honestly.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

رسالة من شارلوت صديقتى

الايام متشابهة
و المحبطات تتوالى
و المنغصات تتكاثر
و المسؤليات متعبة
و الياس يغلبنى
فافتح الكمبيوتر و ادخل على بريدى
اجد قصيدة لشارلوت برونتى
و كما لو كانت شارلوت موجهة رسالة لى بشكل شخصى
و ليه لاء ماحنا بنى آدمين زى بعض و فاهمين بعض
صحيح هى ماتت من اكثر من مئة و خمسين سنة
لكن حدوتة الحياة ماتغيرتش كثير
و شارلوت حبيبتى و صاحبتى و فاهمانى من زمان
من ساعة ماتعرفت عليها و انا فى الاعدادية و قرأت قصتها جين آير
شارلوت قالتلى فى قصيدة اسمها الحياة
ان الحياة مش حلم
و انه اوقات شوية مطر الصبحية بيبشروا بيوم لطيف
و انه احيانا بيكون فى سحب نكد
لكن كل دى حاجات و بتعدى
يعنى لو المطر حيخلى الورد يفتح
ليه نلوم سقوط المطر؟
و تكمل الست شارلوت و تقولى
انه ساعات الحياة المشمسة بتجرى مرحة
فاتمتعى بيهم وانت مزاءطتة و حامدة و شاكرة
لأنهم بيطيروا
و اوقات بيجى الموت
و بياخذ احسن ناس
و الحزن بيبقى حينتصر على الامل و يسحقه
لكن الامل بينط و يفط زى السوستة
مش مقهور بالرغم من وقعته
طاير باجنحة ذهبية
شايلانا و قوية
برجولة و من غير خوف
عشان ساعة المحاكمة و الحساب
حيظهر و يبان
انه حيهزم اليأس
و ينتصر الشجعان


Life

LIFE, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall ?
Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly !
What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away ?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway ?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair !

Charlotte Bronte

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Monday, May 14, 2007

That Bleak Unfamiliar Cairo

I search for words to describe and tell
Of that bleak unfamiliar picture of Cairo
That only I am seeing
But the words will not come to my rescue.
Even as I reach out and speak to others
Thinking that maybe through sharingI’ll get a prompt or some cue,
that will help me write
The words continue to evade me.
So I try harder and wait for days
Hoping that maybe those lines will come together
And the image will be clearer
And the sketch will burst into a full color portrayal
Of that gloomy thing that I am thinking
And that the visual will be a narration
That gives a voice and music to the drama
That I am experiencing
And the bits and pieces will fall together
And in unison speak out for the characters in a story
That is in Cairo unfolding.
But all the time as I am waitingI am outrun by ghosts and demons that come racing
And I can’t see through the dust that they are in the name of religion throwing in my face
And I can’t hear anythingbut their fanatic screaming
And I can’t make my voice heard over their ghoulish howling.
I am out of words and out of breath
And I have nothing better to do than
Waiting …

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