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Bist du von deiner Geliebten getrennt Wie Orient vom Occident, Das Herz durch alle Wüsten rennt; Es gibt sich überall selbst das Geleit, Für Liebende ist Bagdad nicht weit. — West-östlicher Divan, von Goethe (الديوان الشرقي للمؤلف الغربي، غوته)
إذا كانَ بُعْدُ الحِبِّ ما قد قضى دَهْرِي
كبُعْدِ مغيبِ الشمسِ عن مطلعِ الفَجْرِ
ففي القلب هادٍ قد حداهُ —مسافرًا—
يجوبُ بأرجاءِ الفَلَا والقرى القَفْرِ
وبغدادُ ما بغدادُ دارًا بعيدةً
عن العاشقِ الولهانِ في ساعةِ العُسْرِ
— ترجمه شِعرًا عبد الله التغلبي
كبُعْدِ مغيبِ الشمسِ عن مطلعِ الفَجْرِ
ففي القلب هادٍ قد حداهُ —مسافرًا—
يجوبُ بأرجاءِ الفَلَا والقرى القَفْرِ
وبغدادُ ما بغدادُ دارًا بعيدةً
عن العاشقِ الولهانِ في ساعةِ العُسْرِ
— ترجمه شِعرًا عبد الله التغلبي
Reconstructed Minoan Palace in Crete, built around 1700 B.C., and destroyed around 1350 B.C.
Forwarded from Bücher 📖
Sirens
Ludwig Goransson
"Eurylochus: What was the song of the sirens like?
Odysseus: All the things you wanted to be and then all the things you wished you never wished for. It was a delicious itch you want to scratch but you find it under the skin and can't reach it. So the delicious itch becomes unbearable. It told you what you most want is what you most can't have and that the most you can't have is what you already had and lost. It was a song of all the promises I failed to keep."
Odysseus: All the things you wanted to be and then all the things you wished you never wished for. It was a delicious itch you want to scratch but you find it under the skin and can't reach it. So the delicious itch becomes unbearable. It told you what you most want is what you most can't have and that the most you can't have is what you already had and lost. It was a song of all the promises I failed to keep."
Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß,
Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend saß,
Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte!
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend saß,
Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte!
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß, Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte Auf seinem Bette weinend saß, Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Mächte! — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Who never ate his bread with tears,
Nor sat in sorrow-laden nights
On his poor bed, shaking with fears,
Will never know your heavenly might.
Nor sat in sorrow-laden nights
On his poor bed, shaking with fears,
Will never know your heavenly might.