Méditations d’Aphrodite
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And since some are asking, I delete what I publish because sometimes thoughts come to me as fleeting ideas that do not need to be preserved here in my channel.
ربما لم يُجسّد أيّ شعرٍ تلك الرهبة في أعماقي كما جسّده الشعر العربي، إنه يتسامى ويتجاوز القدرةَ البشرية، مسٌّ من الجنون، أو كما قالت إميلي ديكنسون "إذا شعرت ببدني وكأنَّ قمة رأسي قد خُلِعت، أدركُ حينها أن هذا هو الشعر."
https://www.aldiwan.net/poem6040.html
Painting and poetry are two languages of the same human longing: the desire to give form to what would otherwise remain unseen. A painter gathers light, colour, and silence upon a canvas; a poet gathers words, rhythms, and silences upon a page. Both attempt to capture something that resists being captured entirely—a fleeting impression, an elusive feeling, a moment of beauty that might otherwise disappear without a trace.
اللَّيَالِي الَّتِي قَضَيْنَاهَا ..
بَيْنَ أَغْطِيَةِ السِّنْتَانِ البَيْضَاءِ ..
وَكَأَنَّ النِّهَايَةَ لَنْ تَلُوحَ أَبَداً ..
رَسَائِلُ كَتَبْتُهَا ..
وَمَا كُنْتُ أَنْوِي إِرْسَالَهَا قَطُّ ..
الحُسْنُ الَّذِي سَأَبْقَى ..
دَائِمَ الشَّوْقِ إِلَيْهِ ..
مُتَمَثِّلًا بِتِلْكَ الأَعْيُنِ ..
أَمَّا عَنِ الحَقِيقَةِ وَمَاهِيَّتِهَا، فَلَا أَسْتَطِيعُ قَوْلَ المَزِيدِ ..
لِأَنَّنِي أُحِبُّكِ ..
نعم غالبًا أحب الأغاني النادرة، هسة مثلًا ليندا هاينز محد يسمع أغانيها بس أنا وزوجها
It is rather amusing that a grown adult would take social media seriously!
Repost from 0/0
When you fall in love, at first you take your lover for a work of art; her visage a painting, her voice a melody, her quirks a curiosity. Then you meditate longer and gaze deeper into the art, and the brushstrokes, cracks, and faulty details start to show themselves and catch your attention, and maybe distress. But if you're still in love, even the cracks and paint flakes will look like craquelure and Persian mistakes to you—signatures of authenticity and beauty.
You may have noticed this in yourself: you fall in love with an olive-skinned brunette, and suddenly Venus herself has brown hair and a tanned complexion; you're enamored with a blue-eyed freckled girl, and freckles become the epitome of beauty.
Soviet film acting feels more like a theatrical performance than cinematic acting, and I love how it feels like literature rather than just acting.
