Riham Gamal

“أحكي للعالم أحكي له
عن بيتٍ كَسروا قِنديله
عن فأسٍ قتلت زنبقةً
وحريقٍ أودى بجديلة..

أحكي عن شاةٍ لم تُحلب
عن عَجنةِ أُمّ ما خُبزت
عن سقفٍ طينيّ أعشب
أحكي للعالم أحكي له..

يا بنتَ الجارِ المنسيّة
الدُّمية عندي محميّة
الدُّمية عندي فَتعالي
في باصِ الرّيح الشرقيّة..

حنّا لا أذكرُ قَسماتك
لكني أشقى كي أذكر
في قلبي خَفقةُ خطواتك
عصفورٌ يَدرج أو يكبر..

أحكي للعالم أحكي له
عن بيتٍ كَسروا قِنديله
عن فأسٍ قتلت زنبقةً
وحريقٍ أودى بجديلة..

كُنّا ما أجملَ ما كُنّا
يا بنتَ الجارِ ويا حنّا
كنّا فلماذا أعيننا
صارت بالغربة مجبولة
ولماذا صارت أيدينا
بحبالِ اللعنة مجدولة..”
― سميح القاسم

“ولم (أقع ) في الحب

لقد مشيت اليه بخطى ثابتة

مفتوحة العينين حتى أقصى مداهما
...
اني ( واقفة) في الحب

لا (واقعة) في الحب

أريدك
بكامل وعيي”
― غادة السمان, أعلنت عليك الحب

“كَلمَاتك .. تُرسِلُني إلَى هُنَاك
حَيثُ لا هُنَاك إلّا أنا .. وكَلِمَاتُكَ .. وعَيْنَاكَ ..”
― محمود درويش

“He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of him at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad.”
― Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated