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393
Perhaps the real question is not whether you should become the oil or the light.
It is whether you are willing to be consumed at all.
393
بعضی وقتها فکر میکنم اینجا تجلی خود جهنمه. آتش از یه جا به بعد برات دردی رو به ارمغان نمیاره چون تمام عصبهات میسوزه و ازبین میره. اما این چرخه جهنم واری که ما توش هستیم؟ این؟ نمیدونم چیه ولی هر روز ما رو میکشه،بخواب میبره و فرداش دوباره زنده میکنه.
نوشته شده در ۲۵ آپریل
393
تازه چند ماهه فهمیدم میتونم زبانهای مختلف رو خیلی سریع یاد بگیرم ولی چه فایده که زبان برنامه نویسی جزوشون نیست.
393
Sorry for the late response. I like how the poem shows that faith does not require certainty at first it can develop over time.
393
THE RESURRECTION
I was the one who waited in the garden
Doubting the morning and the early light.
I watched the mist lift off its own soft burden,
Permitting not believing my own sight.
If there were sudden noises I dismissed
Them as a trick of sound, a sleight of hand.
Not by a natural joy could I be blessed
Or trust a thing I could not understand.
Maybe I was a shadow thrown by some
Who, weeping, came to lift away the stone,
Or was I but the path on which the sun,
Too heavy for itself, was loosed and thrown?
I heard the voices and the recognition
And love like kisses heard behind the walls.
Were they my tears which fell, a real contrition?
Or simply April with its waterfalls?
It was by negatives I learnt my place.
The garden went on growing and I sensed
A sudden breeze that blew across my face.
Despair returned but now it danced, it danced.
Elizabeth Jennings
