“So you intend to go through life never loving anyone? Just … things?”
“No. I’m looking for something more.”
“More than love?”
“Yes.”
“Is it not arrogant to think you deserve more, Khalid Ibn al-Rashid?”
“Is it so arrogant to want something that doesn’t change with the wind?
That doesn’t crumble at the first sign of adversity?”
“You want something that doesn’t exist. A figment of your imagination.”
“No. I want someone who sees beneath the surface-someone who completes the balance. An equal.”
“And how will you know when you’ve found this elusive someone?” Shahrzad retorted.
“I suspect she will be like air. Like knowing how to breathe.”
― Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn
Prin mijloc spirală de calm și de cer
rotește un soare cu murmur de joc,
cu fluturi mirare din galben fierbinte,
și roșu aprins
cu freamăt de foc
cu aripi de cald el mângâie trecerea
și boabe de rouă îi suflă sclipirea,
a verde curat șoptește simțirea,
iar mugurii, florile…
a aer pictat
polen și petale și nuanțe oracol…
și tot nu pot pune albastrul la loc,
doar curgerea sete, destin și miracol
îl poate rescrie
din murmur de joc
Through spiraling centers of stillness and skies
a whispering sun all smiles at play
sends butterflies flying from sizzling yellow,
through searing red
and orange seams’ sway
with wide wings of warmth it covers its shrine
and dew drops so tiny reflect its sweet gleaming,
in pure deep green all life seems to rhyme,
and buds, bloom and blossoms…
in deep painted dreaming
the pollen and petals and oracle hues…
and still they can’t see the blue brightness’ way,
just endlessly destined, the miracle muse
can fly and rewrite it
all smiles at play
Nic💛le
