The Fortune Teller

Thread: The Fortune Teller

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  1. dark1979's Avatar

    dark1979 said:

    Default The Fortune Teller

    this poem is not mine, I
    did not wrote it, it is by
    Nizar Qabbani... The
    Fortune Teller
    She sat down with fear
    in her eyes,
    Contemplating my
    upturned cup.
    She said: don’t grieve,
    my son,
    You are destined to fall
    in love;
    My son, the one who
    sacrifices himself for his
    beloved
    Is a martyr.
    Your cup is horrific
    world,
    And your life books and
    wars.
    You will fall in love so
    many times, so many
    times,
    And you will die so
    many times, so many
    times.
    You will fall in love with
    all the women in this
    world,
    And you will return back
    as a defeated king.
    For so long I have
    scrutinized fortune-
    telling,
    But never have I read a
    cup similar to yours.
    For so long I have
    scrutinized fortune-
    telling
    But never have I seen
    sorrows similar to yours.
    You are predestined to
    sail forever
    Sail-less, on the sea of
    love.
    Your life is forever
    destined
    To be a book of tears,
    And be imprisoned
    Between water and fire.
    Regardless of its fires
    Regardless of its past
    records
    Regardless of the grief
    that abides within us
    day and night
    Regardless of the wind,
    The rainy weather,
    And the cyclone,
    It is love, my son,
    Will always be the best
    of all fates
    There is a woman in
    your life, my son,
    Her eyes are so
    beautiful,‎
    Glory be to God,
    Her mouth is drawn like
    a petal,
    And her laughs
    Roses and melodies,
    And the mad gypsy’s
    hair
    Traveling all around the
    world.
    The woman you love,
    May be she is your
    whole world.
    But your sky is raining,
    And your rout is blocked,
    blocked, my son.
    Your beloved, my son, is
    asleep
    In a guarded palace.
    The palace is big and
    huge,
    Guarded by dogs and
    soldiers,
    And the princess of your
    heart is asleep.
    He who asks for her
    hand
    Or approaches her
    garden’s wall
    Will get lost....
    He who tries to loosen
    her tresses
    Will get lost, my son, will
    get lost.
    You will seek her
    everywhere, my son,
    Asking the waves of the
    sea about her,
    Asking the shores’
    turquoise.
    You will roam seas and
    seas,
    And your tears will flow
    like a river,
    And you grief will grow
    till it becomes trees.
    At the close of your life,
    You will realize that
    You have been pursuing
    only a trace of smoke.
    You will find that since
    your beloved,
    Has no land, no home,
    and no address.
    How difficult it is, my
    son,
    To love a woman
    Who has neither land,
    nor home
     
  2. gbasfora's Avatar

    gbasfora said:

    Default

    Recorded by AbdelHalim Hafez

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWCiT...ayer_embedded#!

    Translation here : http://www.arabicmusictranslation.co...0Halim%20Hafez




    عبد الحليم حافظ - قارئة الفنجان


    جَلَسَت والخوفُ بعينيها
    تتأمَّلُ فنجاني المقلوب

    قالت:
    يا ولدي.. لا تَحزَن
    فالحُبُّ عَليكَ هوَ المكتوب
    يا ولدي،
    قد ماتَ شهيداً
    من ماتَ على دينِ المحبوب
    فنجانك دنيا مرعبةٌ
    وحياتُكَ أسفارٌ وحروب..
    ستُحِبُّ كثيراً يا ولدي..
    وتموتُ كثيراً يا ولدي
    وستعشقُ كُلَّ نساءِ الأرض..
    وتَرجِعُ كالملكِ المغلوب

    بحياتك يا ولدي امرأةٌ
    عيناها، سبحانَ المعبود
    فمُها مرسومٌ كالعنقود
    ضحكتُها موسيقى و ورود
    لكنَّ سماءكَ ممطرةٌ..
    وطريقكَ مسدودٌ.. مسدود
    فحبيبةُ قلبكَ.. يا ولدي
    نائمةٌ في قصرٍ مرصود
    والقصرُ كبيرٌ يا ولدي
    وكلابٌ تحرسُهُ.. وجنود
    وأميرةُ قلبكَ نائمةٌ..
    من يدخُلُ حُجرتها مفقود..
    من يطلبُ يَدَها..
    من يَدنو من سورِ حديقتها.. مفقود
    من حاولَ فكَّ ضفائرها..
    يا ولدي..
    مفقودٌ.. مفقود

    بصَّرتُ.. ونجَّمت كثيرا
    لكنّي.. لم أقرأ أبداً
    فنجاناً يشبهُ فنجانك
    لم أعرف أبداً يا ولدي..
    أحزاناً تشبهُ أحزانك
    مقدُورُكَ.. أن تمشي أبداً
    في الحُبِّ .. على حدِّ الخنجر
    وتَظلَّ وحيداً كالأصداف
    وتظلَّ حزيناً كالصفصاف
    مقدوركَ أن تمضي أبداً..
    في بحرِ الحُبِّ بغيرِ قُلوع
    وتُحبُّ ملايينَ المَرَّاتِ...
    وترجعُ كالملكِ المخلوع