Forwarded from 玄璃 . (Nazan!n)
Down a distant little street,
among red lanterns and the scent of wet wood,
a girl sat quietly,
resembling an antique doll from the East.
Her black hair
was tied with a silk ribbon,
her kimono brushed softly against the ground,
and her large eyes
held the color of a rainy night.
Her face was so delicate,
as if carved from cold porcelain;
yet there was something alive
inside those eyes…
something no doll
was ever supposed to possess.
The wind passed through the cherry blossoms,
a few petals settling in her hair
as the lantern above her trembled.
She smiled.
And for a moment,
the entire street became more beautiful—
but behind that tiny smile,
there slept a darkness
older than silent temples,
deeper than bamboo forests.
Perhaps she was never a doll;
perhaps she was the spirit of a girl
who had been trapped
inside a painting long ago…
And every night,
when the last lantern went dark,
she returned
to our world
for a few fleeting moments.
among red lanterns and the scent of wet wood,
a girl sat quietly,
resembling an antique doll from the East.
Her black hair
was tied with a silk ribbon,
her kimono brushed softly against the ground,
and her large eyes
held the color of a rainy night.
Her face was so delicate,
as if carved from cold porcelain;
yet there was something alive
inside those eyes…
something no doll
was ever supposed to possess.
The wind passed through the cherry blossoms,
a few petals settling in her hair
as the lantern above her trembled.
She smiled.
And for a moment,
the entire street became more beautiful—
but behind that tiny smile,
there slept a darkness
older than silent temples,
deeper than bamboo forests.
Perhaps she was never a doll;
perhaps she was the spirit of a girl
who had been trapped
inside a painting long ago…
And every night,
when the last lantern went dark,
she returned
to our world
for a few fleeting moments.
ترجمه فارسی:
در کوچهای دور،
میانِ فانوسهای سرخ و بویِ چوبِ خیس،
دختری نشسته بود
شبیهِ عروسکهای قدیمیِ شرق.
موهای مشکیاش
با روبانی ابریشمی بسته شده بود،
کیمونویش آرام روی زمین میلغزید
و چشمهای بزرگش
رنگِ شبِ بارانی بودند.
صورتش آنقدر ظریف بود
که انگار از چینیِ سرد ساخته شده؛
اما در آن چشمها
چیزی زنده بود…
چیزی که هیچ عروسکی
نباید داشته باشد.
باد از میانِ شکوفههای گیلاس گذشت،
چند گلبرگ روی موهایش نشست
و فانوس بالای سرش لرزید.
او لبخند زد.
و برای یک لحظه،
تمامِ کوچه زیباتر شد—
اما پشتِ آن لبخندِ کوچک،
تاریکیای خوابیده بود
قدیمیتر از معبدهای خاموش،
عمیقتر از جنگلهای بامبو.
شاید او یک عروسک نبود؛
شاید روحِ دختری بود
که سالها پیش
در دلِ یک نقاشی جا مانده بود…
و هر شب،
وقتی آخرین فانوس خاموش میشد،
برای چند لحظه
به دنیای ما برمیگشت.
玄璃 .
Down a distant little street, among red lanterns and the scent of wet wood, a girl sat quietly, resembling an antique doll from the East. Her black hair was tied with a silk ribbon, her kimono brushed softly against the ground, and her large eyes held the…
چقدر قشنگ بوددیننینیهینسننیسننینیمینینیتین
Forwarded from ͯ傷 ͯ跡 ͯ𓄧꒷꒦ (Kanna)
a memory of (きみ)
چاکر داداش
شبیه لات و لوتای سر کوچه بن بست حرف میزنم چرا
Forwarded from Cursed puppet
https://t.me/corpse_bones/16752
چرا دقیقا وقتی انتظارشو ندارم این گیفاتو میفرستی :))))
https://t.me/ilvumaprrgfndshesolikeme/48439
چرا دقیقا وقتی انتظارشو ندارم این گیفاتو میفرستی :))))
https://t.me/ilvumaprrgfndshesolikeme/48439
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♱ .邪悪な人形. ♱
چاکر داداش