“Whoever loves a tree will love its branches” — French playwright, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, famously known by his stage name Molière (1622-1673).
|I do not think the stars will fall if I decide to learn how to understand knowledge itself. I am neither pessimistic nor hopeless, but this is the reality of understanding and actual learning.|
I received messages — love messages — which led me to start making wild guesses. I also started singing and trying to come up with a humble poem while wondering if all these will be impressive or not; or will it just be a flattery at its height? I am confident that I am not “Ibn Zaydún” and she is not “Bint al-Mustakfi”. I am also confident that “May Ziade” is a different woman and a neighbor to someone else, but we are almost similar.
I ignored her vibes whenever I felt them. I think she felt my glances but she also ignored them. All that happened were the glances, pulses and messages which had their meetings on an antique table in a small yard where sand on the ground was covered by a green layer of grass, giving it character and glamour.
She is educated, well cultured, and very beautiful. Her eyes are indescribable. Whenever I think about them, praises take their way, and breathlessness takes me away.
She might not have had similar days or even similar nights like mine, but I strive in vain to render realistic the days and nights even if the path seems long and barren with dying flowers without any hope for it to turn green. However, the question stands — is it a useless attempt or a grateful strive?
The events of yesterday were way too much and the coming days will have more of the kind. I really do not know whether my great event will become true or things will stay the same. I was quite sure from the time I set my eyes on that tidy table in the middle of the front part of the hall of a building. I kept asking my eyes but I have received no answer until now. Can you believe it?
What is important has been settled but the most important has not yet been settled. The feelings of September went on to face the feelings of June; but the sky remained clear except for some few clouds.
The journey seems too long despite covering more than half of the distance. I was often a victim of pessimism; moments of optimism were rare. I always refused to beg or receive any support that is based on sympathy. If I was asked, I would respond by saying, “The desirous is not asked to bear the cost”.
A very difficult period with troubles and obstacles has passed. The generous meets no welcome when he stands in front of the door of the mean. However, the result was, to some extent, accepted and considerable. The eyes are still filled with hope and optimism.
Two years of seeing her beautiful eyes look at me once and then close. I sometimes move forward slowly, and then I step back for a while, and then again move forward for some time. The more I go closer to pessimism/disappointment, I remember what Abu Feras Al-Hamdani said, “The one who proposes to marry a beautiful girl, does not care about the dowry”.
Dear reader, have you understood anything?
By Yousef Awadh Al-Azmi