Moaning in an inkstand -1-
Translated by :Heba al-Sharani
Al Thara- 21-8-2010
Those –who talk a lot about the serious literature, serious play, serious bread, serious whisky, serious films, and serious appointments- in fact are the greatest clowns at the literary courtyard and they just need a landed auctioneer to convince Ziad Maulawi to leave Al-Khayyam theatre for all for them.
The serious play in their opinion is that when it starts, the audience begins to look for a way out to escape, even from the chimney.
The serious film is to reserve a place in the cinema and a bed in Al-Saleeb monastery.
The serious painting is that which includes pictures need to traffic policeman to explain by his siren and his stick, where the lines start and end to the watcher.
The serious dancer is who shakes her waist after she gets a good knowledge about the publication of Rojeh Garoody in a side and Al-Yater novel in another side.
The serious love is that the lovers should go away from people¢s noise and
life troubles …and to whisper together under moon light about provisioning
supervision and the gabs in land reform rule.
swimming is that the educated should wear a good swimsuit, and lie on The serious
his back in the swimming pool while he is reading the Literary Attitude magazine
or Le-Monde newspaper.
The serious singer who is bounding by his nation food and his nation culture, is the one who does not sing as Abdo Al-Wahab "I built the hopes castle" but sings "I learnt from him all nights” or “ I built the hopes bakery”.
Those who are serious and sullen, who believe that the best way to help fedayee
work, liberate the occupied land ,make heavy industry and develop the scholastic education methods is that they should still frown from birth to death and not to allow anyone to see them with a real smile except at the real occasions .
Those, I do not write or read for them.
I write for the others, for who are pure more than rain before touching the pavements. For those who do not know if 'Le-Monde' is published in Paris or in Abu Dhabi
For those who are boring and dying without moving their villages, without leaving
their friends, without changing their tobacco or changing their way in lying on the grass or on the floors of prisons.
For the worker who has his breakfast on his bike.
And the foolish female servant who covers her pillow by her tears at every time there
is a captured princess in a series of a radio station and she cannot be satisfied until getting freedom to back to the castle and maids, then she can go back to her wiper and
I write to the farmer who is blessed with rain, who is happy with lightning and delighted with thunder... And only his cigarette can light his face at the darkness of his old age.
For those who die and born while they are sitting on the sidewalks of the courts, in
the halls of landed departments and in public garages without meeting anyone accept their shadows on the sidewalks.
I write for rain... for love... for freedom... for spring... for autumn...
I write to live…
“I Will Betray my Home”
Thara E- Magazine No. 247,21/8/2010
Reproduction permitted with appropriate citation