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الموضوع: The Gates of the Cave

  1. #1
    الصورة الرمزية كاملة بدارنه أديبة
    تاريخ التسجيل : Oct 2009
    المشاركات : 9,824
    المواضيع : 195
    الردود : 9824
    المعدل اليومي : 1.78

    افتراضي The Gates of the Cave

    The Gates of the Cave
    The noise broke, consuming every quiet and silence.
    I cannot stand his heresies, and those who share its fullness.
    I've been exhausted, so I've run to one calm green hill.
    I walk showered with the soap of silence, scented with the sweet aroma of the nature, and enamored with dew dropping pearl threads.
    As I looked in bless and joy, a magical melody broke my eardrums, emitting out of somewhere.
    The frequent sound attracted me to its source; a wide hole in between the fresh dewy hill.
    From afar, I viewed several ghostly shadows celebrating, as if though Eanna's followers have remained, still celebrating the rain.
    I continued my walk until the shadows became bodies before my eyes. They did not mind me as I hacked through their lines, and I found myself inside a cave full of guards, not of the regular types of caves; the lights broke through its corridors enchantingly, bewitching the comer to follow its threads.
    A pile of bones and skulls lying in one corner frightened me, and the picture of the Cave Men came to my mind, and it planted even greater terror inside my head.
    I stiffened in my spot and the fear stead-fastened when the echo of human sounds bounced off the walls; I thought them to be the souls of those who perished here.
    Few moments passed and the silence took over, the lights that illuminated even brighter seduced me and urged me to get deeper inside.
    What I've seen was terrific; closed doors like gates of underground cities. I mustered my courage and opened the first one, and behind it were people of different ages, different shapes and genders, and I realised that what I've heard had emerged off this place!
    They were not welcoming, their shrieks grew louder, I became scared, and then it stopped. I talked to them in hope that perhaps I might find someone to understand me, to no avail.
    The silence was enveloping, but then someone said in a scream: "we are the suppressed on this earth, we are whom their emperors threw them on the sidewalk, and we were forgotten, except for those who their ink splattered them otherwise, on rotten lying file papers they keep in rotten drawers, to take out whenever they desire, for interest they keep to themselves…
    "We are those whom their homes have been demolished, tents pulled off, and dreams and lives displaced…
    "We're slaughtered and offered generosity for the pits after the avarice tables, and then they count their generosity and charity and hurt us. So if you were to be one of us, here is your place."
    I couldn't say a word, I drew back with my face facing theirs, I got out with a cloud of emotions confusing my steps.
    I laid myself against the wall for few minutes with my eyes shut close, the noises confusing me. When I opened my eyes I saw a gate before me, my curiosity urged me to draw back my strength and head towards it, that perchance who hide behind it are better off.
    I gambled with universal dice and opened the gate, I did not see anyone, and I breathed heavily, and thought to myself that I might sit here for a little rest of the agony I've been through.
    Suddenly, hordes of little children started coming off various trails, as if they were inviting me inside. I stepped two steps to sit with them, except they stopped me, and women of certain ages followed them, and I was suddenly drowning in a rippling sea of radiations coming off eyes I never understood the gist beneath them.
    My legs became heavy beneath me, and I feared I might fall because of the weight they were laying on my knees, but one of the women caught me, and invited me to bed the ground, I did not speak out of exhaustion and fear, so they all screamed in my face:
    "We are your victims, Men. The victims of the wars you take pride of your victories in, we take the weight if those wars. You fight, kill and be killed, and we remain widows and orphans, receiving charity and goodwill, to nourish the dryness of the materialistic and spiritual lives we live.
    "Your victories do not stop at your wars, but it goes across the line, for you to be cruel and oppressing, for the variety of believing you own everything, and you leave us and our children, swinging in judges' chairs to receive our rights, even the lovers among you never do right to their lovers. When you finish your needs with us, you leave us in the face of the humiliating winds, living in despair, and cry tears of regret and disappointment.
    "What’s the fault of your children to face the harshness of life without the softness of a lap or a refuge? What is…"
    And I lost my ability to hear, the words pierced my skin and almost burned my entire existence, if only I didn't have the balm of patience to impute from their anger.
    I crawled out, and the whips of their anger thumping me, adding more exhaustion to my soul.
    My legs remained expanded before me, unable to get up, I wished for a moment's sleep to wash these awful memories off my head, and I did in fact sleep, only to wake up after it searching for a way out of this goddamn place, but my curiosity led me to another gate, of a different color and size.
    My thoughts danced, for after all the agony I tasted, there had to something better.
    I don't know why I found myself asking for permission to enter this time. I waited until I heard a sound inviting me in, my face broke in a smile of relief after it was hard-pressed. And I entered…
    White and black turbans arguing in between themselves, sitting huddled in a corner. The robe wearers in fuss and shambles, as if something great is occupying them, waving their walking-sticks, as if dissatisfied with what their tongues are releasing.
    I said my greetings, and they returned it, and asked me to sit. A feeling of relief took over me, being a guest welcomed to generosity.
    One of them asked: "Who are you? And what is the matter with you?"
    "I am from the land of noise and noise-makers. I'm searching for the nirvana that I've become so passionate in finding, may I have guidance and advice from the enlightened minds beneath the turbans of knowledge and wisdom?"
    He laughed until his back teeth appeared, my cheeks caught fire, but he tried to extinguish the fire with his words.
    "It's alright, son. I'll nourish the thirst of your searching soul.
    What you're searching for will not be found under the turbans of the knowing like you believe, but inside your naked head! Search for what you're looking for inside you, and it shall be found; for if you have lived the inner peace, and the silence in mind and soul, you will succeeded and your wish will come true, but if you do not listen to your inner shouters that invite you to make peace with yourself and other, then you will lose.
    "You have come running away from other's noise, searching for rest, but the noise you live in, yourself gave birth to it, the one that aborted its silence unwillingly, to give birth to the noise that you claim you despise. I advise you to revive what has been aborted and killed."
    I was amazed after I got over the embarrassment I suffered, and I asked him about himself and those he's sitting with, for I had found in him the philosopher that mounted the throne of the essence and its components.
    "We are a group of scientists, wise people, speakers, and unifiers. We were the advisors and the announcers, and the human rallies have heard us claiming amazement, and showing their willingness to accomplish what has been heard, and then they pierced their daggers in the bellies of our principles. We read on them the words of God, and the extracts of scientists, so they wrote it in enamored files, exhibiting them and taking pride in them, and silver boxes they held dearly, and they have walked and still walk on the rule of the jungle. We filled them with that which sanctifies the humanity, and makes them the best of the creatures like the God has blessed them with, so they made their value lower than hell, and they disfigured their bodies to evaluated monkeys! And they were happy with what those disfigurers gave them, so they mixed the good with the bad, and they no longer knew where to go for solace, and what they should glorify. And there they are, whining and lost, confused in what they introduced. We could no longer stand the randomness of their deeds and what they carry, and so we left them, and let them do what they please. We're sitting here, pitying them, for we want the store of the knowledge springs to burst, and for its water to fill the earth and what’s upon it. When our sadness becomes too heavy for us, it becomes anger, and so we splash each other with the drops of knowledge, and it strengthens and runs in rivers, and it becomes the noise you heard when you arrived."
    His talk attracted me despite its length, and despite the exhales of sighs that pinned me, and I no longer felt the urge to get out like I had before.
    He offered me to remain, but my urge and wanting to explore the rest of the cave made me ask, he told me I was inside the third gate, and there are eight gates in the cave, and as I listened to his voice, the noise of knowledge became louder again, and the pieces of anger that was filled with theories and spirituals and others… and thus the turbans fell of the heads, and I realized that the knowledge angers itself if it does not find a listener, and that the nirvana if it doesn’t find a place to spread its wings it becomes shrieks and anger!
    I hurled out, and the exhaustion almost brought me to my knees. I saw the other gates, but did not have any want in me to get inside them. I trotted until I found the hole of which I entered, and the celebrating people remained the same, I hacked their lines, and ran from the anger and the angry, the scolding and the scolders, to find myself in a jungle of noise and noise makers, pitying and searching for the fetus of the nirvana in the womb of my existence.

    قصّة بوابات الكهف
    ترجمة المتألّقة : يارا رامي عاصلة
    رابط القصّة:
    https://www.rabitat-alwaha.net/molta...ad.php?t=46374

  2. #2
    شاعرة
    تاريخ التسجيل : Jan 2010
    الدولة : على أرض العروبة
    المشاركات : 34,923
    المواضيع : 293
    الردود : 34923
    المعدل اليومي : 6.47

    افتراضي

    ِA successful translation of the story "The Gate of the cave" of the great writer Kamleh Badarneh
    The promising translator Yara Rami Asleh managed transfering the spirit of the original text, together with text's environment, events, character's lines and inner and outer arguement

    enjoyed reading the translation of the story I strongly loved

    Redards
    تستطيع أن ترى الصورة بحجمها الطبيعي بعد الضغط عليها

  3. #3