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A Request
Over here
The time stops
In the wide corner from the cosmos,
The time stops
In domains that infinite
From doorsteps of shooting stars,
The time stops
Everywhere,
The time stops.
Then
The demonstrations follow in succession
From all sides
From all people
those who were born and died,
Those who were born
and are still alive,
And those who will be born,
Carrying candles
That spurt vermillion blood,
And the signs they tore
From the blue clearness of the Iraqi sky
Written on
"God"
Hasn't Iraq's ground had enough blood poured on?
Detroit
4/5/2004
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Written: Enas Albadran
Translated : Said Alwaely
Date: 02 / 01 / 2007
Whisper of the Sea
Short Story
The sea called her as he was
dreaming. From that day, she loved his breaths... His
waves as they break and get lost upon the dewy rocks to
scatter bits of crystal and revive the atmosphere, or to
reach continuously and kiss the doorstep of the blown
sand.
She walked barefoot by the extent between the land and
water where the sea starts or ends its long journey. The
sun emits proudly every forenoon, as usual, on the
tourist groups that hide in that small, pretty city,
from the chocking, noisy buildings.
From a distance she saw him meditating the sea, as
usual, and his sight staring at the never-ending
horizon, where the blue meets the sky in a never-ending
hug. She approached. The salty, humid air dallied her
hair on her cheeks and friendly moved the edges of her
white dress. His sad face looked at her even with the
smile that wet his lips. Every time he saw her he said:
- Don't you ever get board of walking alone?
She answered with a sigh:
- Perhaps it’s a way to escape.
- Escaping doesn't solve a problem.
She stared far at the sea and said:
- One day I'll change my fate, and travel far away on
one of those far ships.
He said smiling:
- We escape from our fates to our fates.
She questioned:
- Don’t humans build their own fate?
- Not exactly, or we would have been done with tortures
like sadness and failures of hope.
- As if you are speaking of prison.
- A prison we can't escape from, that lives inside us.
It stays the largest prison in the presences because it
is without bars. But you have a choice.
- I don't own the courage, and you know why.
- From my experience, I tell you honestly that fear has
a slow death. And a human has only one life.
He continued:
- Make your choice. You either leave him or live a
normal life with him.
She whispered as if to herself:
- Nothing with him is normal.
- Anything is better then staying …
She cut him saying:
- I'm stuck in between the sky and the ground… Say it.
He said as if apologizing:
- Young like you, he's an oppressive.
Then as if he remembered something, he said correcting
himself:
- But, better to be wronged than to be an oppressive.
She looked at him with sympathy and said:
- When will you stop torturing yourself?
He said in a shining sadness accent:
- It's my fault the most expensive creature in my life
got lost.
- It was judicature and fate.
- She pleased me to slow down but I was enraptured by
the drunk of happiness. I never felt anything till I
suddenly woke up on the nightmare of her death and her
small body trembling on my arms filled with blood.
As she looked in his eyes, she said:
- Tell me. Did you want to cause the accident? Did you
want to intend her death? Answer me.
He stayed silent head down. She looked at him, at his
skinny fingers, like an artist's fingers. She meditated
his bonny body, his deep, black eyes like the eyes of an
affectionate wolf. The scares on his cheeks added manly
characteristics on his face. They had a moment of silent
sadness. It was interrupted by the noise of teenagers in
beach clothes running after a colored ball. He had his
head down when he asked her in his calm voice:
- Why did you marry him?
- They choose him for me.
- Why didn't you reject?
- I did, but no one listened.
- Then leave him.
- And my daughter? He'll take her from me. You can't
imagine how mach I'm attached to her. She is the lung I
breathe with. She is the string that connects me to this
world and without her…
He interrupted:
- Never think like that.
She was breathing hard from the anger as she looked
toward the sea that was filled with secrets, heaved with
worries, and going on forever, covered with foam.
White sea gulls flew in the extent with freedom resting
for today and tomorrow to break the wide silence with
their echoes of the sharp calls from time to time.
She grabbed a pile of shining, warm sand with her hand
and let it fall in-between her fingers like a sand watch
fling in the breeze. Many colorful sand atoms and small
snail peals that were one day part of this explosive
alive world. She meditated them as they fell and gave up
life.
She walked toward the sea, her footsteps called her as
soon as they got erased with every coming wave. She
stepped in the turbid waters, where the long
rainbow-colored mosses easily rocked along with the
water. The sea called her to step in closer. She rowed
with her weak arms in the azure waters, till she reached
the depths of the turquoise lakes, and there the full
overwhelm obtained her, in silence pumping with life.
She listened to the voice of the sea as it revealed its
secrets. She was not fearful. Then she raised her head
to take a deep breath. The sun was sending its last
silver shine, sparkling on the dancing surfaces.
His voice reached her filled with fear:
- Return, you are now too far!
With tired steps, she approached the sand. He looked at
her and his face's convulsions reveled his suffering. He
said admonishing:
- I worried about you.
She replied with an exhausted voice as she caught her
breath:
- We are late. Let us return.
The sound of the tourists moved away gradually to
shadowy echoes as she shivered with goosebumps. She gave
them her back and slowly pushed the wheelchair.
* * * * * * *
Enas Albadram
has a bachelor's degree in English literature, Baghdad
University. She is a member in union of Iraqi letters
and the union of Iraqi journalists. She is the president
of the literary Nasik Almalika forum. She worked as a
journalist and translator in many Arabic magazines and
newspapers. She translated and published" the buoy " (
Alison Morgan, 1985) , "Horizons of new education and
its roots" (2000), "the eyes of the leopardess" (short
stores, 2003), "love in war time" (2004), and "
Nourishment is your medicine" (2006). She also has a
group of short stories under the name of "the
reflections of a woman" ready for printing.
Websites:
www.tahayati.com
www.iraqen.net
www.SaidWaely.com
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A Mug of Water
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