فردریش هلدرلین
برگردان:ح ف
وقتی پسربچه ای بودم
خدایی همواره می رهانیدم
از فریاد و خشونت آدمیان.
آنگاه، امن و آسوده، می خواستم بازی کنم
با گل های مرغزار،
و بادهای پردیس هم
با من.
و هنگامی که تو سرشار می کنی
قلب گیاهان را، شاخه های نازک شان کشیده
به سوی توست
هلیوسِ پدر
این سان تو قلب مرا سرشار می ساختی،
و من محبوب تو بودم،
لونا الهه ی مقدسِ ماه، درست به سانِ اندیمیون!
همه ی شما، خداوندانِ وفادارِ
دوست داشتنی!
ای کاش می دانستید
چه اندازه روحم دوست تان داشت!
بی شک توان فرا خواندتان را نداشتم
آن هنگام تا بخوانم تان به نام، هم چنان که شما هم ناتوان از فراخواندنم به نام
آن چنان که آدمیان همدگر را می خواندند به نام، تو گویی
یقین همدگر را می شناختند.
اما من بهتر، شما را می شناختم
تا آدمیان را.
من سکون اثیر را می شناختم:
هرگز اما واژگان آدم را نمی فهمیدم.
آهنگ خوشِ خش خشِ برگ های
مرغزار، درسِ من بود؛
در میان گل ها یاد گرفتم که عشق بورزم.
در میان بازوانِ خدایان
من بزرگ شدم.
Friedrich Hölderlin
When I was a boy
a god would often rescue me
from the shouting and violence of humans.
Then, safe and well, I would play
with the meadow flowers,
and heaven's breezes
would play with me.
And as you delight the heart
of plants, stretching their tender
arms toward you,
Father Helios,
so you delighted my heart,
and I was your beloved,
holy Luna, just like Endymion!
All you faithful
friendly gods!
I wish you knew
how my soul loved you!
Naturally I couldn't call you
by name then, nor did you use
mine, as humans do, as if
they really knew each other.
But I was better acquainted with you
than I ever was with humans.
I knew the stillness of the Aether:
I never understood the words of men.
The euphony of the rustling
meadow was my education;
among flowers I learned to love.
I grew up
in the arms of the gods.
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- "If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skulls, then why do we read it? Good God, we also would be happy if we had no books and such books that make us happy we could, if need be, write ourselves. What we must have are those books that come on us like ill fortune, like the death of one we love better than ourselves, like suicide. A book must be an ice axe to break the sea frozen inside us." Franz Kafka
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Quote 3
The struggle of literature is in fact a struggle to escape from the confines of language; it stretches out from the utmost limits of what can be said; what stirs literature is the call and attraction of what is not in the dictionary.
Italo Calvino
Quote 4
Jacques Derrida
Quote 6
Friedrich Nietzsche
Quote 8
Friedrich Nietzsche
Quote 10
Gustave Flaubert
Quote 11
And yet, and yet . . . Denying temporal succession, denying the self, denying the astronomical universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations. Our destiny is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.
Jorge Luis Borges
Quote 15
Solidarity is not discovered by reflection, but created. It is created by increasing our senstivity to the particular details of the pain and humiliation of other, unfamiliar sorts of people. Such increased sensitivity makes it more difficult to marginialize people different from ourselves by thinking, 'They do not feel as WE would,' or 'There must always be suffering, so why not let THEM suffer?
Richard Rorty
Quote 18
Vladimir Nabokov
Quote 19
The thing with kids is, if they want to grab for the gold ring, you have to let them do it, and not say anything. If they fall off, they fall off, but it's bad if you say anything to them.
J. D. Salinger
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Quote 1
Antonin Artaud
Quote 2
Pleasure is continually disappointed, reduced, deflated, in favor of strong, noble values: Truth, Death, Progress, Struggle, Joy, etc. Its victorious rival is Desire: we are always being told about Desire, never about Pleasure.
Roland Barthes
Quote 5
Jacques Derrida
Quote 7
Jacques Derrida
Quote 9
Paul Celan
Quote 12
Marcel Proust
Quote 13
Umberto Eco
Quote 14
I'll think about things for thirty or forty years before I'll write it.
Richard Brautigan
Quote 16
The world does not speak. Only we do. The world can, once we have programmed ourselves with a language, cause us to hold beliefs. But it cannot propose a language for us to speak. Only other human beings can do that.
Richard Rorty
Quote 17
A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual.
Vladimir Nabokov

