خدای دقیقی هستی،همه چی اون موقع که باید باشه نیست میشه،خمیر دندون موقع مسواک زدن،ماشین حساب موقع امتحان دادن،جوراب موقع دانشگاه رفتن........اون موقع گریه کردن.
The light came through the window, Straight from the sun above, And so inside my little room There plunged the rays of Love.
In streams of light I clearly saw The dust you seldom see, Out of which the Nameless makes A Name for one like me.
I’ll try to say a little more: Love went on and on Until it reached an open door – Then Love Itself Love Itself was gone.
All busy in the sunlight The flecks did float and dance, And I was tumbled up with them In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more: Love went on and on Until it reached an open door – Then Love Itself Love Itself was gone.
Then I came back from where I’d been. My room, it looked the same – But there was nothing left between The Nameless and the Name.
All busy in the sunlight The flecks did float and dance, And I was tumbled up with them In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more: Love went on and on Until it reached an open door – Then Love itself, Love Itself was gone. Love Itself was gone.
*) L.W. refers to Leon Wiesentier
Read the first chapter from Leon Wieseltier's book Kaddish and reviews by Harold Bloom in The New York Times and Robert Fulford in Toronto's Globe and Mail.
6 Comments:
At Mon Jul 11, 06:26:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
The light came through the window,
Straight from the sun above,
And so inside my little room
There plunged the rays of Love.
In streams of light I clearly saw
The dust you seldom see,
Out of which the Nameless makes
A Name for one like me.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love Itself
Love Itself was gone.
Then I came back from where I’d been.
My room, it looked the same –
But there was nothing left between
The Nameless and the Name.
All busy in the sunlight
The flecks did float and dance,
And I was tumbled up with them
In formless circumstance.
I’ll try to say a little more:
Love went on and on
Until it reached an open door –
Then Love itself,
Love Itself was gone.
Love Itself was gone.
*) L.W. refers to Leon Wiesentier
Read the first chapter from Leon Wieseltier's book
Kaddish and reviews by Harold Bloom
in The New York Times and
Robert Fulford in Toronto's Globe and Mail.
At Tue Jul 12, 12:36:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
oon ham che daghighi !!
At Tue Jul 12, 01:40:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
heif ke sharayet bad bood nashod vagarna manam khodaye daghighi mishodam ... hata daghigh tar az in yeki !
At Tue Jul 12, 06:53:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
برو شکرش کن که همین قدر روت دقت داره
At Tue Jul 12, 06:53:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
برو شکرش کن که همین قدر روت دقت داره
At Tue Jul 12, 07:34:00 PM 2005,
Anonymous said…
doroste man daghigham ! vali in goh kariaa kaare jebre'eele
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