بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته
أساتذتي أدباء الملتقى وعلماء اللغة الإنجليزية،
بعد التحية لكم،،
فهذه أولى كتاباتي باللغة الإنجليزية، أرجو منكم قراءتها والتصحيح إن وقعت في أخطاء نحوية أو ما شابهها..
كل التحية تقبلوها من ابنتكم/ ماجدة،،
Vagueness in a daylight!!
The sand was turning between his feet that were walking so quickly, the sun was pouring its hot over his shining head, the marks of fatigue were apparent over his face, also the marks of insistence were over his face, even the sweat was pouring and his profligate footwear, he was not care, he was walking as a mad man race the time, walking hopeful! He stopped suddenly for getting a rest.
It was my chance to know some about his story, maybe that will help me in writing my determination about the tragedy that we are living. From his face, I knew that he was holding a lot of thinking. I became closely to him, I said:" Good evening" he replied with a nice smile, I began the subject with a hurry talking, he was a accelerated and me too, I wish I could arrive my work in a high speed. I said to him,:" I'm an interviewer, working in a local newspaper". I asked him to give me some of his time, and to be ready for my questions, he replied,:" well, I don't mind, but please hurry" I said:" let us become acquainted" he said:" I'm sorry, I'm so busy, maybe we will meet one day and become acquainted, take this is my address, you can visit me if you want," I said:" well, I'm thinking of your circumstance" he said:" It's a narration, nay it's a novel" I replied with whoop:" what's the matter?" he said and felt sad:
" I was born here in Gaza, I engender under it's throne sky, between its glory lines, and it's dignity also its kind people and strong children, I will never forget its fire proof champions, I was enlarged on bread and sweet water, not on golden or things like it, on what is our small field yield…Then I became 10 years old. I was so young, but I was so strong. I lived my hard life with my 3brothers, I loved to ask mother questions, I used to that. I love her answers that were overflow me very too much of highness…
One day, I asked her about dad, where he was? And why he wasn't living with us? I asked here about our life that we were living and still today living it in a small house like a coop! I asked her about our neighbors, they were living in houses like castles and still living in them! About the fields they possess, but I'm and my family are living in a forest in a bad life." She said:" listen dear, those are difficult questions, I hate to become in arguments with you, you are so young, but you should know the life, today there is no place to escape from the truth…In Yafah, we were having a house, like a stronghold, built of
stones, it's canopy was glimmer till the night came, in front of it, there was a wide field, it expanded from the house to far way, inside it, was a well, it was for all people, all want to drink could drink without any problems, it was also for the plants, inside it was a barn for the horses…
My son, your father was the horseman of all horse men, was a storm and rebellion, was the leader of all men, he was the maker, of the glory… one day we were sitting in our house at night, suddenly the storm of our enemy erupted, it burnt all we planted, rushed from them tanks and guns fire, because of it all the population in our city were hurt, and your father became a martyr man, he went to the paradise…
Listen boy, at the moment you are youthful, you are a man, you are unbreakable boy, you must know the years, one is for you, other is not..
One day, you'll get your own back, really you'll not let it go away…
Those were mother's words," don't forget your father retaliation, today you are our sword, that will give back Gaza's glory and Der-yaseen, Jerusalem, and Akka…
"Let me go now, friend, don't forget to visit me,"
Oh, God, this young man is like me, his tragedy is like mine. I hope to write it, but why? It still for this minute, it's the play that still shown everyday on Palestine Play House…all know it, so there is no case to write it, really I'm afraid about Al-Arab conscience, I'm afraid about them hearts ….I went away back to my work, still thinking about him, after my work finished, I went home, I took a rest, I was fall of hope to seat with my family, but that boy still fellow up me with his story, I don't know for this moment why, but I've to go to him and meet him again…"I'm afraid that the time has gone out…"
I didn't feel that I'm going to meet him when I took a taxi to his home…
I arrived there, I rang the bell of his house, I didn't return to the lift…the door was open, all the people were looking at me…I stood without doing anything… unto a young boy came to me and said:" The remnant of the life is still for you and your life…".
I stood with out move, I felt that all my heart was dead and buried with him…