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منتدى مغلق هذا الموضوع مغلق ، لا تستطيع تعديله أو إضافة الردود عليه  [ 7 مشاركة ] 
الكاتب رسالة
  • عنوان المشاركة: New literary work {The uncured stab}
مرسل: الاثنين نيسان 05, 2010 1:00 م 
آرتيني جديد
آرتيني جديد
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 14 أيلول 2008
المواضيع: 6
المشاركات: 13
القسم: ترجمة E
السنة: صف ثاني - دراسة مسائ
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد



غير متصل
 
The uncured stab:

One day I was in the primary school when I am in the age of seven, and this was almost in 1960s, the school was built with mud and has one door, two or three classes not more, then I am a weak body, pale skin may be the malnutrition of that days, since then we are in a village far away from the cities, since then the cities in any case are not the most better. The difference, however, is not value, if we justly make contrast between villages and towns- center, but the difference could only in less contrast  especially to those live in countryside almost are farmers or sheepherders and to those live in towns are small merchants or small feudalist own large yards and sat in town have  managed their  farm-land by dependent person work to their  behalf and gathered the yields to them  every year, but some times the owner himself attend to manage with farmers in sever cruelly badness- rough style of his cruelty, although the farms- land  are belonged to those poor- nation, because they are  themselves working a lone, no helps offered from owner , just only to visit them at the end of the session and treat them by his long stick, then no one should ask or answer only to obey him simply and gave him the half of production.
In one year of that dark gloomy days one of feudalist has admired with his self and decide to run out town and choose small house to live adjacent our house, it is the trouble day said my father , whereas I am in the forth year of my school, I was not old yet , but the acceptance of my shadow is warm to sting everybody knows me. Something I was recognizing my personality that is the doom which everywhere I had joined or marked, and the people almost said to my father look after your sun because they expected that one day his poor sun will be teacher or doctor and could serve to develop their village. Two or three years after I finished the sixth class and I had got to continue my learning in town , because there is no middle classes in the village, so the problem began in how could I  manage to offer residence or how could get eating. etc..
My father one day visited the rich man- the feudalist, who also has a young son continued his school in the town, but his son never has come to the village, not seeing his visage to know him or to be acquaintance, but my father soon asked the feudalist about his son , the feudalist turned astonished, but my father told him about me, and how he is turbid and upset about how he can send his son to the town, no room to rent , no one should be confident to leave his son with, it is the  very difficult moment , my father has always discuss it ,to not forget the dark days, though the story didn’t I can forget it at all .The  feudalist has sooner come to visit us , and he noticed the books on my hands then asked me to show my level in the school, and immediately he writes a message to his son to be careful with me.
We became friends, one of both has taught the other, but although he is preceded me in one year, I was equal with him or preceded him in some subjects.
The son also astonished and sending his father some knowledge that he has gain and which he has acquired from me, so his father has immediately rent my father two sacks of money.
As I mentioned we began completely closer friends, and no one could leave the other.
One day we decided to arrive village by riding horses and  he talks to me about their living cost , and how his father gain this area as he said that his grandfather has served in the Turkey army.
No further time more we began to be familiar in each other's home, visiting continued through night or days, no one has told me his sister name, but I knew her name from the pillow- was decorated by her name, The Linda H- T and two names of sparrows written near her name, she is nineteen in age, yellow – red check , never she looks a side and all time she is busy in decorating and sewing small parts of cardboard-- decorated clothes, although she is being too young and childly , but she is  two years older than me.
For the first time I didn’t take care enough to the girl or being too concern of her.
But one day spontaneously I found tinny paper was painted by thick green color was clasped to my book and when I opened the paper small green emerald fall from it , suddenly I moved to my home entering and told my mother about what I have seen, my mother was afraid saying to me not tell anyone, because if the feudalist has known , may be he will be anger and won’t believe me if I said I find that stone, or he thinks that I virtually has stolen the stone, then the issue will be complicated and I loss his support , and for that reason I kept in silence.
Month after we return back to the school flourishing again in our matter, discussing  and asking ourselves how much progress we had got , although trivial accidental event disturbed my friend temper as on day he was riding a bicycle, when he has fallen down and  one of his teeth was broken. Nevertheless, what happened  again we still exchange our friendly confidently and no trivial things to break down it. The days followed    quickly and we began to start the final examination.
One day we returning back, my friend asks me whether  could I   determine exactly to run in my job, of course I couldn’t answer him initially, but I keep silent, again my friend awakes  me at the mid of night saying to me that he would be a lawyer and he  will  resume his study  abroad, I keep silent again, refusing to share him the discourse , but he urges to discuss the obstacles which confronted me, saying to me if the matter is materialistic  :"don’t worry for that" and assure me that he will argue his father when he will meet him, but the confusion on my face and the cloudy mysterious of my misfortune has  accumulated on my sky, shutting our door and we left to sleep….
A dream is not dream if you are still a wake
The mystery obstacle won't gives me shake
My determination, my dream is not of mine
The doom covered me to  up my nose
A weak or still a weak my body won't refuse
But my sole has played with  my soul
Leaving the room and escape a way
Down the upstairs, I finished my journey
Returning to calculate my fingers
The day will break down a new dawn
But the mystery still hurts my back
In the next day my friend determines to speak with me in other soul, he said; the harvest will start in no further a limit of one month, and we shall visit the employers working with them to gain the ears, the crops will be ripen in  lees than the period.
You will see them, my family, and you will be one of us, we will dancing and  do- hullabaloo , interesting ourselves and forgetting the toils of school.  I remain worried, frustrated, waiting the coming day.
The school was finished and we were returning back, my parents were waiting to ask me about the marks, the markets, they spent the night wondering how am I  being the intimate friend of the feudalist son!?, my little sister began to grasp my beard, giving her some sweets and she began started cry awhile.
Let her drop your books and she will be satisfied, said my father.
The family was gathered a round a mud stove to warm their foods and tea, they haven't special kitchen and the chickens share them their food.
Follow next week the feudalist asks my father to be present for harvest , we have three horses, two oxen and one mule, and my  father should prepare all of them. He asked me to follow him in the next day saying "be simple with them" , they are aristocrat , and this man didn’t depend on any other else, he knows only his self, he is quite exaggerated and more proud of his daughter Linda, he maid her as his soul, never speak about her through crowded  grumble's men, and he often said to her my dearest , my heart , you are similar the face of my mother visage, your grief hurts my liver and when he saw her smiles- he turned to pack up his special tobacco pipe- and being turned cheerful slowly to his knee.
The man obviously had strength of his thoughts, has inherited it deeply beyond his grandfathers the aristocrat shape who didn’t smile to the poor men, he is more strict and firm in his visage, always putting large pistol in his middle or sometimes grasps an strength stick, more than rough and had a bulb in its end, one day he uses it to separate two combated farmers, but he has hit one of them in mistake over his head, the man soon has laid in hospital two months more
Next the day morning the lammas has started, crowded of men and women are busy with their children and everywhere you can see throng of them walking along the wilderness, most of the time they are singing to help themselves in this toils of working, but exactly they have been working all the day, and sometimes until the stars shine, bright in the gloomy darkness, nevertheless the were too frightened if any of them being absent and the feudalist was asking about him, so they work in vigorous to win the peace of the cruelly person, or just he will allow them got their rest in the mid of the day as they expect.
I was there and contributed them their grief and their enjoy The flocks of wildered birds came also to get their meals, because the ripen grains interested them. The cruelly man always makes mess trying to forbid the birds through beating a large un- used can of plate by stick making noising and crack to split those innocent birds, there -fore I hated him everywhere I have met him.
In the mid of the day I have visited my friend finding  him helping his father in his employment, he is also shouted to the workers, but soon he noticed me he ran to greet me and bring me a cup of water mixed with yogurt. Awhile after I have seen his sister who also gesture in secret toward me and winking by the end of her eyes, soon I was embarrassed and affected, but to make more confusion to my side she offers me a glass of juice, never I have tasted a like, she says to me welcome, instead of her father has been seen me and consider me as his son, but he stand a side making a sound of cough to feel others that he is present, of course I was enough frightened of his voice , but the lady assures me that there is enough of time to exchange her the greeting , she is too passionate and has funny to everything with her tumid –crooked cheeks, slim figure, but proudly staid in her eyes, she left me and went, properly I was affected , then I stood frustrated, obsoleted , sad , and the grief had toned my chest, she was beautiful enough to melt the breeze over my hurt wound, I didn’t see her when she leave, but she picked my hand saying to me next day is my birthday, and you should invite yourself, I haven’t anything has worth  to offer her a gift , nothing in my house deserve her approval, or fit to their aristocrat, what shall I offer her my book or my old watch - which my father had brought it to me  when I succeed in the sixth class about  five years ago .
Nothing, nothing I have, still my garment was torn in many places , but her stubbornness force me to obey her advice obligatory , or makes me sure that I shall stand anywhere in their house, dare not to say welcome.
In the second day I was there, but lonely I dare, although her figure still settle in my mind , because the difference is more and  is  not acceptable to be contrasted  in every music or dance or just transient dream fills your thought. Meanwhile I was standing under their fruitless big tree in the middle of their house- yard, gloomy and frustrated, although the joy shakes above my lips and has settle tamely and,---
bitterly surrounding me from  both sides, has to led me escape and never to be a human, alas to the poorness and hunger , thrusts to wear new clothes or just hang the freedom, let me ride my horse and compel this cruelly life, mournful, grief, sadness, all them torn me parts and conflicted my soul to be a lone in wilderness to console , to rooted them a way, as this warm blood still draw fluently in my veins, but still I am hungry to find that's sensation inside me  such love books is not enough to feel anyone devoted and concentrated  his idea as ideal person in the world , in that moment of absorption and consumption of my disarray ideas I got feel that someone mention my name, which is I have forgotten  in that ordeal clumps on my body, I said yes, yes to everything, let me said Heel , or any places to get rid of my life, but the voice is tender and lovely has brought the sunshine in my eyes again, said come my lord, don’t worry, you didn’t make any mistake, but I am afraid of course from her- father and the status of mine , the poorness, the influence power of their and the conventional instructions in my village , but she urge me to enter, in that moment I refuse and was satisfied to say for her only good day or any term  deserved her, when I got to leave she embraces me from my neck, being can't able to leave , I tried to evade and vanished from her , but in that difficult hour her father was near of us, the girl immediately ran a way , the man noticed my confusion , but he didn’t blame me, he only said to me that's special  party and no one I have invited, you can leave my son and in the next day I should  see you-
accompanied your father in the harvest. Frightened I return to my house and my mother said that she had quested everywhere about me, and when she knew that I went there she was too much angered, saying to me don’t recur this again.
Although it is trivial transient event, but still I am worried and kept it in my heart to not have gone to their side and consider as forbidden red line.
After three days or more the feudalist has come to our part, to watch in closeness to see  what we had doing in the harvest, my father stand to greet him, but he insists to not sit.
Immediately he asks us about what do we had collect on the seven days ago, but he sees that some stacks are not gathered  well, he said to my father in  afternoon you should be there present in my home, may be  to ask him about the rent and something is obscure and vague to the children .
Indeed we didn’t know when my father had decided to go to the feudalist house , but we heard voice of quarrel, soon we gathered out side, but it is too dark to perceive what justly had happened, there is no light or electricity or just simple torch, so we listen rather than  we could see and  at the end we hear the triumph joy voice mixed with shouting .
We are thronged near the voice origin, hearing my father preceded closer and is completely disturbed rising his dragger quite to his shoulder and the blood covered it saying I killed him, he is slain, he is slain, and the feudalist is gone to the hell and never will attack everyone again, his haughtiness never has seen again in our village  , though we must move, we must leave at once, we must hurry before sunshine and  to   make advantage of  the cover of night and escape.
It is truly that the feudalist has died, my father stabbed him more than twenty in his neck, he was slain, he was slain.
Everyone of the family picked in  his arm what could he drove to the far and not to stay there.
I ride one of the horses carrying my father gun and steal the way camouflaging in other direction, my father follows me- hand to hand with the rest of family.
We moved only by ourselves and what is slight to carry of stuff and other necessary things, we arrive after seven hours of continuous driven a very deserted area – arable  has grow nothing, no human voice, but only the wolves' howling, our dog began to reply, but soon I covered his mouth by a precise tied. We stand, get down of our animals and everything being too much dark and not acceptable, already  we cling together equanimity stability more than previous time, the danger everywhere could be found , and no one will help us, we forget the tiresome, only the little child began to cry in low voice, we couldn't set a fire due to not discovered by any one else, the news should move to the government- police center as fast as could possible, but what should we do there? Even dawn has come, the hours is quite heavy and long, but what about myself? What about my school? What about my friend whom I turned his enemy?
Although it is mystery everywhere, although the smell of gunpowder is present everywhere in my country, but I must stood and convey my real absent behavior everywhere should I go, the issue is not considering me only, but it the fate of all family, what happen to my eyes! they are glowing like the flame, the blaze in my heart so ," the girl", in spite I didn’t have really relation lasted three days or more, but truly my heart connected to her, what the things could I do! the stars still immerged on the sky and my eyes still immerged there, but my body, my warm blood affected on my family. How we could save ourselves? The next day we will be persuaded unless we find safety resort, but how should we get on!
The melancholy wretch covered my eyes
The black owl still near to my horse
Nothing will trust me in the Earth
And my hands captured with sin
Over my wound new wound stress
Morn should not apply the dawn
Sorrow and regret won't have space
And still I was solicitous soliloquize myself till morning beat the night, and the procession continued in next day, but to endless seashore.

Written by Mohammad Ahmad
Iraq \ 2010 \ 4 \ 3 – Saturday    

               
        
             
                   
,


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: new literature work
مرسل: الاثنين نيسان 05, 2010 1:38 م 
آرتيني جديد
آرتيني جديد
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 14 أيلول 2008
المواضيع: 6
المشاركات: 13
القسم: ترجمة E
السنة: صف ثاني - دراسة مسائ
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد



غير متصل
أرجو من سادتي الاكارم تقييم هذا العمل الادبي الذي امضيت فيه عشرة ساعات متواصلة في كتابته وتأليفه والذي هو عبارة عن قصة قصيرة ترمز الى الواقع العراقي بل العربي بكل ماسيه وخضم احداثه ابرزت فيه مهارتي الادبية وعنفواني بل كبريائي وارادة الشموخ والعز لمجد ابائي وسلية حاضري والذي اعتبره واحدا من اروع ما كتبت اثرت فيه الصراع في كل مجرى وابرزت فيه حنكتي الادبية التي اعتز بها هو شخصيتي وارادتي وحري لكل فنان او كاتب ليفتخر بما انجز وتبقى الوسيلة الوحيدة لتقدير جهود اي فنان بمحض ارادة القراء والناقدين . انه اول عمل انشره ولم اراجع فيه حتى الان - على اية حال المنشور بين يديكم ولي حرية الاحتفاظ بما اكتب ملكا خاصا لا يطأه احد وربما الاعوام القادمة بعد تخرجي ستجلب الجديد اذ لا زلت طالبا في قسم الترجمة في الصف الثالث علما لدي الكثير من مصطلحات الترجمة وربما سأجلبها لاحقا هذا والتوفيق من الله عز وجل


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: new literature work
مرسل: الاثنين نيسان 05, 2010 3:38 م 
آرتيني نشيط
آرتيني نشيط
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 10 حزيران 2009
المواضيع: 25
المشاركات: 594
القسم: English Literature
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد

:: أنثى ::


غير متصل
شكراً ع وضعك لعملك بهالموقع ...شي كتير منيح للإلك و للموقع ..
إن شاء الله بهالأسبوع بحاول اقرأو ...و بعطيك رأي ...if u care
But, there's a point in the title of your post" a new literature work" ....I think it's wrong and will be far better to say : a new literary work. *1

_________________
التوقيع


وَمَا يُلَقَّـاهَـا إِلَّا الَّذِينَ صَـبَرُوا وَمَا يُلَقَّاهَا إِلَّا ذُو حَـظٍّ عَظِيمٍ


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: New literary work {The uncured stab}
مرسل: الثلاثاء نيسان 06, 2010 11:29 ص 
آرتيني جديد
آرتيني جديد
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 14 أيلول 2008
المواضيع: 6
المشاركات: 13
القسم: ترجمة E
السنة: صف ثاني - دراسة مسائ
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد



غير متصل
Ok, that's right
But the specific address is inside , which resembles the specific address of my topic .
Read it my dear daughter , and you will find the interest and the value of my style , where as still I am beginner
thak you


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: New literary work {The uncured stab}
مرسل: الثلاثاء حزيران 01, 2010 6:56 ص 
آرتيني مؤسس
آرتيني مؤسس
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 01 آذار 2007
المواضيع: 608
المشاركات: 7325
المكان: حمص - دمشق
القسم: اللغة الانكليزية
السنة: دبلوم ترجمة - متخرج
الاسم: أبو آدم
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد

:: ذكر ::


غير متصل
محمد الربيعي,  
u will have my comment soon

_________________
التوقيع
صورة
بتمنى تتابعوا صفحتي عالفيس بوك
عنوانها :
( صفوة لتعليم اللغة الإنكليزية و الترجمة )


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: New literary work {The uncured stab}
مرسل: الثلاثاء حزيران 01, 2010 10:53 ص 
مشرف قسم ما بعد التخرج و طرائق التدريس
مشرف قسم ما بعد التخرج و طرائق التدريس
اشترك في: 23 آذار 2007
المواضيع: 103
المشاركات: 1681
المكان: HoMs
القسم: Higher Institute of Languages
السنة: ELT Master_2nd Year
الاسم: Mohammed Al-Masri
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد

:: ذكر ::


غير متصل
Thanks Mohammad for sharing us ur work here .. I liked the way you mixed the English words with the Arabic style  


I'll be back soon .... KZ IT's worth reading

_________________
التوقيع
"The future belongs to those who prepare for it today." Malcolm X


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
  • عنوان المشاركة: New literary work {The uncured stab}
مرسل: الجمعة حزيران 25, 2010 9:31 ص 
آرتيني مؤسس
آرتيني مؤسس
صورة العضو الشخصية
اشترك في: 01 آذار 2007
المواضيع: 608
المشاركات: 7325
المكان: حمص - دمشق
القسم: اللغة الانكليزية
السنة: دبلوم ترجمة - متخرج
الاسم: أبو آدم
لا يوجد لدي مواضيع بعد

:: ذكر ::


غير متصل
 
It is a nice narration of a spot in your Iraqi life …there are many strong points like the descriptions of the motions with your family , and many weak points like the Arabic structure in the narrative style .  
Good Luck
I love Iraq

_________________
التوقيع
صورة
بتمنى تتابعوا صفحتي عالفيس بوك
عنوانها :
( صفوة لتعليم اللغة الإنكليزية و الترجمة )


أعلى .:. أسفل
 يشاهد الملف الشخصي  
 
منتدى مغلق هذا الموضوع مغلق ، لا تستطيع تعديله أو إضافة الردود عليه  [ 7 مشاركة ] 

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