a life's tale, episode #2

...

he surfed around the globe, as he was seeking mystery, to satisfy his desire, which he felt was his soul. cities and counteries he visited, but there was nowhere he felt like settling down. not untill the day he saw a man, pointing an arrow to a woman, with the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen. the woman smiled at him and he smiled back and next to her he sat. the archer man was a dark skinned man, with a long, black shiny hat...

it was the period he believed, was the sweetest of his whole life indeed. they thought they love themselves so much, in such ways, that no human have ever been able to imagine. but weeks and months proved them, such strong feelings were somehow in vain. and finally the mark was made, when they both felt their relationship smells just like a carcass of a dirty rat. this time, they both knew this was somehow connected with a strange man, sitting on the corner, with dark skin and a long, black shiny hat...

unable to stop living, the boy, now a man, picked a new lifestyle with different proiorities involved. he chose a job and worked hard and found new friends as he tried to put aside his past, but he some time sneaked around to see if he could find another strange, dark skinned man. he found one, just at the moment he let himself fall again for a pretty lovely girl at work, and he invited her to dinner and she accepted the offer after just a small chat. this time the man was smiling, wearing a long, black shiny hat...

to be continued...

a life's tale, episode #1

once upon a time, not long ago, in a city not too far, not too near, lived a happy couple, waiting for their baby to be born. there came a man, and delivered an adorable tiny boy, with blushed cheeks and body just like a pat. the man, however, had dark skin, with a long, black, shiny hat...

days passed and the kid grew up fast. his parents, so happy, taught him how to walk, talk and laugh. at his fifth birthday, they held a small party for him and he recieved a lovely little furry cat, from another strange man, with dark skin, wearing a long, black, shiny hat...

it once came a day that the kid felt something. something odd and yet familiar in some ways. he felt that someone is calling him, toward the adventures, the unknowns, experiencing joy and wrath. he was of course, another dark skinned man, with a long, black shinny hat...

to be continued...







chat

l'avventura

باور کردنش سخت بود. از لابی هتل بیرون دوید و به منتها الیه بالکن مشرف به کوه رسید. ایستاد و خیره شد...
در افکار منتاقضی غوطه ور بود که صدای نفس هایش را متوجه شد. برگشت و صورت در هم رفته و احمقانه اش را در مقابل صورت خودش دید. چند ثانیه گذشت.
مرد در تقلا برای به زبان آوردن جمله ای مناسب ولی ناتوان از یافتن آن، و به نشانه ی تنفر از خودش ابتدا سرش، و در ادامه همه ی بدنش را از او گرداند و به سمت نیمکت رفت. نشست و سرش را در دستانش گرفت. به ظاهر می گریست.
کلودیا دوباره به کوه نگاه کرد...
کوه به کلودیا خیره شد. کلودیا از کوه روی گرداند و رفت. رفت و دستانش را از پشت، دور گردن ماریو حلقه کرد. خیانتش را بخشیده بود. ماریو صورت خیسش را به سوی کوه دوخت.
کوه در حال فوران آتش بود

selflessness

Lying on his bed, relapsed into some unclear memoir, he was dreaming of a day.

The day that all his creativity would be demonstrated in some shelves and all the cordial spirits would be imprisoned in his nasty lungs. His raring ambitions would be accommodated in a single room, with a single view in which only a tree would be the messenger of spring.

And it’s in the cold spring evenings when he longs to be there, on the beach, on a chair with a bottle of red wine and an empty glass. Saluting the cloudy sky, he would whisper a song. A Greek song. And he would dream that he could dance right there on the pebbles. A Greek dance. Like this, it goes: da ram... da ram... da ra ra da ram... da ram... da ram... da ra ra da ram... da ram... da ra ra da ra ra ram... da ra ra da ra ra ram...

The wind would witness as he was dying, that nothing could judge the right or wrong then...

conspire

It's so sour;
there are times you feel it just fits there.
but most of the time you don't. a wasted dream keeps streching on the horizons you once believed were probable to cospire to conquer.
do you conspire to hold me down?
do you conspire to hold?
do you conspire to hold me down?

مردی که "اکنون" نداشت

از هر آنچه، هر آنکه می شناخت، او کمینه تجمع گرا بود،
آیا بازش می داشت اگر تلاش کند او را منصرف کند؟

ترانه های کهن، نوای ابدی مینوازند،
و ترانه های سنتیمنتال، به یاد دوستانش می برند.
همان است، که هست: می توان همه را رها کرد.
و از خود می پرسید: آیا به تخمش هم هست؟

هنگام رانندگی در شب، چراغ های خیابان را چون دروازه هایی می دید،
دروازه هایی به درون انبار هایی پر، پر از هیچ.
متوجه نبود که صد ها بار تلاش کرده بود که همان چراغ ها را،
در روز هم،
منوّر ببیند

the tale of a man with an impersonal vision about what was supposed to be called his life

All his life he was trying to place himself in situations which he was prepared for. Descisions, judgments, evaluations, were all subjects to his practice.
He was quite successful indeed...
All he was missing, was that all life, is just a matter of tense...