پروین اعتصامی

 

Born on 25th of Esfand, 1285.

 

Died on 15th of Farvtardin 1320 due to typhoid fever.

 

About 112 years ago a little star started twinkling in the well-lit sky of Persian poetry. Rakshandeh Etesami, better known as Parvin Etesami was born on 25th of Esfand, 1285. Unfortunately, she passed away at the age of 35 due to typhoid fever. She is considered to be one of the greatest poets of all time in Iranian literature. 

 

This is one of her poems in Farsi…

 

 

محتسب، مستي به ره ديد و گريبانش گرفت

 

مست گفت اي دوست، اين پيراهن است، افسار نيست

 

گفت: مستي، زان سبب افتان و خيزان ميروي

 

گفت: جرم راه رفتن نيست، ره هموار نيست

 

گفت: ميبايد تو را تا خانه قاضي برم

 

گفت: رو صبح آي، قاضي نيمه شب بيدار نيست

 

گفت: نزديک است والي را سراي، آنجا شويم

 

گفت: والي از کجا در خانه خمار نيست

 

گفت: تا داروغه را گوئيم، در مسجد بخواب

 

گفت: مسجد خوابگاه مردم بدکار نيست

 

گفت: ديناري بده پنهان و خود را وارهان

 

گفت: کار شرع، کار درهم و دينار نيست

 

گفت: از بهر غرامت، جامه ات بيرون کنم

 

گفت: پوسيدست، جز نقشي ز پود و تار نيست

 

گفت: آگه نيستي کز سر در افتادت کلاه

 

گفت: در سر عقل بايد، بي کلاهي عار نيست

 

گفت: مي بسيار خوردي، زان چنين بخود شدي

 

گفت: اي بيهوده گو، حرف کم و بسيار نيست

 

گفت: بايد حد زند هشيار مردم، مست را

 

گفت: هوشياري بيار، اينجا کسي هشيار نيست

 

Movie Time

 

 

Artist: Backstreet Boys

Album: Never Gone

Released: 2005

Genre: Pop  

 

Empty spaces fill me up with hopes

Distant faces with no place left to go

Without you within me I can't find no rest

Where I'm going is anybody's guess

 

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

 

Voices tell me I should carry on

But I am swimming in an ocean all alone Baby,

my baby, it's written on your face

You still wonder if we made a big mistake

 

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete

 

I don't mean to drag it on

But I can't seem to let you go

I don't want to make you face this world alone

I want to let you go

 

I tried to go on like I never knew you

I'm awake but my world is half asleep

I pray for this heart to be unbroken

But without you all I'm going to be is incomplete  

 

 

DOWNLOAD 

http://yekupload.ir/9c79db43aa2e7fa4/backstreet+boys+-+Incomplete(music.naij.com).mp3

Story Time / the third wish / written by Joan Aiken / Part 4

 

Story Time

 

The third wish written by Joan Aiken

 

 Part 4

 

One night when he had been late doing the
accounts he came up to bed and found her
weeping in her sleep and calling:

"Rhea! Rhea! I can't understand what you
say! Oh, wait for me, take me with you!"

Then he knew that it was hopeless and she
would never be happy as a human. He stooped
down and kissed her goodbye, then took another
leaf from his notecase, blew it out
of the window, and used up his second wish.

Next moment instead of Leita there was
a sleeping swan lying across the bed with its
head under its wing. He carried it out of the
house and down to the brink of the river,
and then he said, "Leita! Leita!" to waken her,
and gently put her into the water. She gazed
round her in astonishment for a moment, and
then came up to him and rested her head lightly
against his hand; next instant she was flying
away over the trees towards the heart of the
forest.

He heard a harsh laugh behind him, and
turning round saw the old King looking at
him with a malicious expression.

"Well, my friend! You don't seem to have
managed so wonderfully with your first two
wishes, do you? What will you do with the
last? Turn yourself into a swan? Or turn
Leita back into a girl?"

"I shall do neither," said Mr. Peters calmly.
"Human beings and swans are better in their
own shapes."

But for all that he looked sadly over towards
the forest where Leita had flown, and walked
slowly back to his empty house.

Next day he saw two swans swimming at the
bottom of the garden, and one of them wore the
gold chain he had given Leita after their
marriage; she came up and rubbed her head
against his hand.

Mr. Peters and his two swans came to be well
known in that part of the country; people used to say
that he talked to the swans and they understood him
as well as his neighbors. Many people were a little
frightened of him. There was a story that once when
thieves tried to break into his house they were set
upon by two huge white birds which carried them
off bodily and dropped them in the river.

As Mr. Peters grew old everyone wondered at his
contentment. Even when he was bent with
rheumatism he would not think of moving to a drier
spot, but went slowly about his work, milking the
cows and collecting the honey and eggs, with the
two swans always somewhere close at hand.

 

ometimes people who knew his story
would say to him:

"Mr. Peters, why don't you wish for
another wife?"

"Not likely," he would answer serenely.

"Two wishes were enough for me, I reckon. I've
learned that even if your wishes are granted they
don't always better you. I'll stay faithful to Leita."

One autumn night, passers-by along the road
heard the mournful sound of two swans singing.
All night the song went on, sweet and harsh, sharp
and clear.

 

In the morning Mr. Peters was found
peacefully dead in his bed with a smile of great
happiness on his face. In between his hands, which
lay clasped on his breast, were a withered leaf and
a white feather.

 

The End.

Idiom: Honey catches more flies than vinegar does

Apart from his own cows, dogs and poultry, he had an assortment of animals including a horse, a couple of deer, a porcupine, a few cats and rabbits living in his barn.

 

He treated them like his own children and they all lived together as one happy family. 

 

One day the farmer had to travel to the next town and informed all the animals to look after the cottage safely. The animals loved the old man dearly and cheerfully agreed to it. All the animals took turn to keep watch. 

 

In the middle of the night the dogs that were keeping watch came and woke up the rest of them, saying that they had found a few burglars trying to break their way into the cottage. 

 

Since the burglars were armed, the animals decided they would all have to act collectively to outsmart the burglars.

 

They hatched a plan. Just as the deer and the rabbits distracted the attention of the burglars all the animals rushed in and attacked them with all their might. The cats scratched them and the dogs bit them.

 

The cows charged at the burglars and threw them down and the horse kicked them while the porcupine poked them. The burglars were shocked and surprised at this sudden attack and soon realized that they were no match for the animals. They fled the scene badly bruised. The  animals jumped in joy. 

 

When the farmer returned, he sensed what had happened and was grateful to the animals for saving his cottage from the burglars. 

 

He realized that the animals had repaid his kindness by protecting his house in his absence. He fell overjoyed at their loyalty and affection. They all lived happily ever after.

Story Time / the third wish / written by Joan Aiken / Part 3

 

Story Time

 

The third wish written by Joan Aiken

 

 Part 3

 

When he awoke it was morning and the birds
were beginning to call. Coming along
the track towards him was the most beautiful
creature he had ever seen, with eyes as blue-green
as the canal, hair as dusky as the bushes, and skin
as white as the feathers of swans.

"Are you the wife that I wished for?" asked
Mr. Peters.

"Yes I am," she replied. "My name is Leita."

She stepped into the car beside him and they
drove off to the church on the outskirts of the
forest, where they were married. Then he took her
to his house in a remote and lovely valley and
showed her all his treasures-the bees in their white
hives, the Jersey cows, the hyacinths, the silver
candlesticks, the blue cups and the lustre bowl for
putting primroses in. She admired everything, but
what pleased her most was the river which ran by
the foot of his garden.

"Do swans come up here?" she asked. "Yes, I
have often seen swans there on the river," he
told her, and she smiled.

Leita made him a good wife. She was gentle
and friendly, busied herself about the house
garden, polished the bowls, milked the cows and
mended his socks. But as time went by Mr.
Peters began to feel that she was not happy. She
seemed restless, wandered much in the garden,
and sometimes when he came back from the
fields he would find the house empty and she
would only return after half an hour or so with
no explanation of where she had been. On these
occasions she was always especially tender and
would put out his slippers to warm and cook his
favorite dish-Welsh rarebit with wild
strawberries-for supper.

One evening he was returning home along
the river path when he saw Leita in front of him,
down by the water. A swan had sailed up to the
verge and she had her arms round its neck and
the swan's head rested against her cheek. She was
weeping, and as he came nearer he saw that tears
were rolling, too, from the swan's eyes.

"Leita, what is it?" he asked, very troubled.

"This is my sister," she answered. "I can't
bear being separated from her."

Now he understood that Leita was really a
swan from the forest, and this made him very sad
because when a human being marries a bird it
always leads to sorrow.

"I could use my second wish to give your

sister human shape, so that she could be a companion to you," he suggested.

""No, no," she cried, "I couldn't ask that of
her."

"Is it so very hard to be a human being?"
asked Mr. Peters sadly.

"Very, very hard," she answered.

"Don't you love me at all, Leita?"

"Yes, I do, I do love you," she said, and there
were tears in her eyes again. "But I miss the old life
in the forest, the cool grass and the mist rising off
the river at sunrise and the feel of the water sliding
over my feathers as my sister and I drifted along the stream."

"Then shall I use my second wish to turn you
back into a swan again?" he asked, and his tongue
pricked to remind him of the old King's words, and
his heart swelled with grief inside him.

"Who would darn your socks and cook your
meals and see to the hens?"

"I'd do it myself as I did before I married
you," he said, trying to sound cheerful.

She shook her head. "No, I could not be as
unkind to you as that. I am partly a swan, but I am
also partly a human being now. I will stay with
you."

Poor Mr. Peters was very distressed on his wife's
account and did his best to make her life happier,
taking her for drives in the car, finding beautiful
music for her to listen to on the radio, buying
clothes for her and even suggesting a trip round the
world. But she said no to that; she would prefer to
stay in their own house near the river.

He noticed that she spent more and more time
baking wonderful cakes-jam puffs, petits fours,
éclairs and meringues.

One day he saw her take a basketful down to the river and he guessed that she
was giving them to her sister.

He built a seat for her by the river, and
the two sisters spent hours together there,
communicating in some wordless manner.
For a time he thought that all would be well,
but then he saw how thin and pale she was
growing...

 

Stay tuned for the upcoming parts...

Story Time / the third wish / written by Joan Aiken / Part 2

 

Story Time

 

 the third wish written by Joan Aiken

 

 Part 2

 

In a moment, instead of the great white bird, there was
a little man all in green with ~ golden crown and
long beard, standing by the water. He had fierce
glittering eyes and looked by no means friendly.

    "Well, Sir," he said threateningly, "I see you are
presumptuous enough to know some of the laws of
magic. You think that because you have rescued-by
pure good fortune-the King of the Forest from a
difficulty, you should have some fabulous reward."

    "I expect three wishes, no more and no less,"
answered Mr. Peters, looking at him steadily
and with composure.

     "Three wishes, he wants, the clever man~ Well,
I have yet to hear of the human being who made
any good use of his three wish they mostly end up
worse off than they started. Take your three wishes
then-" he flung three dead leaves in the air "-don't
blame me if you spend the last wish in undoing the
work of the other two."

     Mr. Peters caught the leaves and put two of
them carefully in his notecase. When he looked
up the swan was sailing about in the middle of
the water again, flicking the drops angrily down
its long neck.

     Mr. Peters stood for some minutes reflecting on
how he should use his reward. He knew very well
that the gift of three magic wishes was one which
brought trouble more often than not, and he had no
intention of being like the forester who first wished
by mistake for a sausage, and then in a rage wished
it on the end of his wife's nose, and then had to use
his last wish in getting it off again. Mr. Peters had
most of the things which he wanted and was very
content with his life. The only thing that troubled
him was that he was a little lonely, and had no
companion for his old age. He decided to use his
first wish and to keep the other two in case of an
emergency. Taking a thorn he pricked his tongue
with it, to remind himself not to utter rash wishes
aloud. Then holding the third leaf and gazing round
him at the dusky undergrowth, the primroses, great
beeches and the blue-green water of the canal, he
said:

     "I wish I had a wife as beautiful as the
forest."

     A tremendous quacking and splashing broke
out on the surface of the water. He thought that it
was the swan laughing at him. Taking no notice he
made his way through the darkening woods to his
car, wrapped himself up in the rug and went to
sleep...

 

Stay tuned for the upcoming parts...

Story time / The third wish / written by Joan Aiken / Part 1

 

Story time 

 

The third wish; written by Joan Aiken

 

Part 1

 

Once there was a man who was driving in his 
car at dusk on a Spring evening through part of the
forest of Savernake. His name was Mr. Peters. 
The primroses were just beginning but the trees 
were still bare, and it was cold; the birds had 
stopped singing an hour ago.

 

As Mr. Peters entered a straight, empty stretch of road he seemed to hear a faint crying, and a struggling and 
thrashing, as if somebody was in trouble far away 
in the trees.

 

He left his car and climbed the mossy bank beside the road. Beyond the bank was an open slope of beech trees leading down to thorn bushes through which he saw the gleam of water. 

He stood a moment waiting to try and discover 
where the noise was coming from, and presently 
heard a rustling and some strange cries in a voice 
which was almost human-and yet there was 
something too hoarse about it at one time and too 
clear and sweet at another.

 

Mr. Peters ran down the hill and as he neared the bushes he saw something white among them which was trying to extricate itself; coming closer he found that it was a swan that had become entangled in the thorns growing on the bank of the canal. 

The bird struggled all the more frantically as 
he approached, looking at him with hate in its 
yellow eyes, and when he took hold of it to free 
it, hissed at him, pecked him, and thrashed 
dangerously with its wings which were 
powerful enough to break his arm.

 

Nevertheless he managed to release it from the thorns, and carrying it tightly with one arm, holding the snaky head well away with the other hand (for 
he did not wish his eyes pecked out), he took it 
to the verge of the canal and dropped it in. 

The swan instantly assumed great dignity and 
sailed out to the middle of the water, where it put
itself to rights with much dabbling and preening, 
smoothing its feathers with little showers of drops. 

 

Mr. Peters waited to make sure that it was all right 
and had suffered no damage in its struggles. 
Presently the swan, when it was satisfied with its 
appearance, floated in to the bank once more.

 

Stay tuned for the upcoming parts😊😊😊

Story time / "Zoo" written by Edward D. Hoch

 

"Zoo"
By: Edward D. Hoch

 

The children were always good during the month of August, especially when it began to get near the twenty-third. It was on this day that the great silver spaceship carrying Professor Hugo's Interplanetary Zoo settled down for its annual six-hour visit to the Chicago area.

Before daybreak the crowds would form, long lines of children and adults both, each one clutching his or her dollar, and waiting with wonderment to see what race of strange creatures the Professor had brought this year.

 

In the past they had sometimes been treated to three-legged creatures from Venus, or tall, thin men from Mars, or even snake-like horrors from somewhere more distant. This year, as the great round ship settled slowly to earth in the huge tri-city parking area just outside of Chicago, they watched with awe as the sides slowly slid up to reveal the familiar barred cages. In them were some wild breed of nightmare--small, horse-like animals that moved with quick, jerking motions and constantly chattered in a high-pitched tongue. The citizens of Earth clustered around as Professor Hugo's crew quickly collected the waiting dollars, and soon the good Professor himself made an appearance, wearing his many-colored rainbow cape and top hat. ``Peoples of Earth,'' he called into his microphone.

 

The crowd's noise died down and he continued. ``Peoples of Earth, this year you see a real treat for your single dollar--the little-known horse-spider people of Kaan--brought to you across a million miles of space at great expense. Gather around, see them, study them, listen to them, tell your friends about them. But hurry! My ship can remain here only six hours!

 

And the crowds slowly filed by, at once horrified and fascinated by these strange creatures that looked like horses but ran up the walls of their cages like spiders. ``This is certainly worth a dollar,'' one man remarked, hurrying away. ``I'm going home to get the wife.''

 

All day long it went like that, until ten thousand people had filed by the barred cages set into the side of the spaceship. Then, as the six-hour limit ran out, Professor Hugo once more took microphone in hand. ``We must go now, but we will return next year on this date. And if you enjoyed our zoo this year, phone your friends in other cities about it. We will land in New York tomorrow, and next week on to London, Paris, Rome, Hong Kong, and Tokyo. Then on to other worlds!

 

He waved farewell to them, and as the ship rose from the ground the Earth peoples agreed that this had been the very best Zoo yet. . . .

 

Some two months and three planets later, the silver ship of Professor Hugo settled at last onto the familiar jagged rocks of Kaan, and the queer horse-spider creatures filed quickly out of their cages. Professor Hugo was there to say a few parting words, and then they scurried away in a hundred different directions, seeking their homes among the rocks.

 

In one, the she-creature was happy to see the return of her mate and offspring. She babbled a greeting in the strange tongue and hurried to embrace them. ``It was a long time you were gone. Was it good?''

 

And the he-creature nodded. ``The little one enjoyed it especially. We visited eight worlds and saw many things.''

 

The little one ran up the wall of the cave. ``On the place called Earth it was the best. The creatures there wear garments over skins, and they walk on two legs.''

 

``But isn't it dangerous?'' asked the she-creature.

 

``No,'' her mate answered. ``There are bars to protect us from them. We remain right in the ship. Next time you must come with us. It is well worth the nineteen commocs it costs.''

And the little one nodded. ``It was the very best Zoo ever. . . .''

 

Story Time / the story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 4

 

Story Time / the story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 4

 

Then the bird spoke and told her the story of Ta-Khai's dream, adding:

 

« I come from him with this message; I brought him here on my wings. For many days he has longed for this hour, let him now meet the princess of his dream and heal the wound in his heart. »

 

Sai-Jen fell silent when Ta-Khai stood before her, so great was her love for him. The Phoenix lit up the garden sumptuously, and a breath of love was stirring the flowers under the stars.

 

It was in the palace of the King of China that were celebrated in the most ancient and magnificent style the nuptials of Sai-Jen and Ta-Khai, Prince of Tartary.

 

And this is one of the three hundred and thirty-three stories about the Phoenix as it is told in the Book of the Ten Thousand Wonders.

 

Contributed by my dear friend Mr. Jaap Verraes.

Idiom: Do not Dig Your grave with Your Own Knife and Fork

“All of you are so small and puny. I am so big and strong and I look so handsome. People can see me from far away because I am so huge and have my branches spread out so well. No one can see you unless they come close. You are so insignificant," said the oak tree. 


The oak tree would also make fun of all the birds and animals that took shelter in its branches. 


“All of you must be thankful to me. If I decide to give myself a good shake then all of you will fall to the ground. So better behave yourselves," it said with a laugh. 


One day there was a huge storm with heavy winds blowing across. The oak tree made fun of the tiny shrub as it struggled to keep its roots to the ground against the speedy winds. The shrub could not say anything as it knew that the oak tree was indeed much stronger and put its head down in shame. A couple of hunters decided to take shelter under the oak tree for a while. The oak tree wanted to show off his strength and shook itself upsetting all the birds and other creatures that had taken shelter causing them to fall to the ground. 


The hunters were surprised to see so many birds flying away from the tree and noticed how big the tree was. They immediately decided that the tree would help them get loads of firewood and decided to come back and cut down the tree. Moreover since all the birds found a good hiding place in the tree the hunters thought that once they cut down the tree they could hunt better. 


So a few days later the hunters came in large numbers cut down the oak tree into pieces and took it away. The tree had been very proud of its appearance but finally became the reason for its downfall too. 

 

^_^ Goodnight Joke

^_^ Goodnight Joke

 

Story Time / the story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 3

 

The story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 3

 

At nightfall, they were flying over the palace of the king just above a magnificent garden. And in the garden sat Sai-Jen, singing and playing upon the lute. The Phoenix deposited the prince outside the wall near a place where bamboos were growing and showed him how to cut twelve bamboos between the knots to make a flute with a sound sweeter than the evening breeze on the forest stream.

 

And as he blew gently across the pipes, they echoed the sound of the princess's voice so harmoniously that she cried:

 

« I hear the distant notes of the song that I sing myself, although I can see nothing but the flowers and the trees. It is a beautiful song, and it sounds very sad, and full of longing. »

 

At that moment the wonderful bird, like a fire of many colours come down from heaven, landed in front of the princess, dropping at her feet the portrait. She opened her eyes in utter astonishment at the sight of her own image. And when she had read the lines inscribed in the corner, she asked, trembling:

 

« Tell me, Phoenix, who is he, so near, but whom I cannot see, that knows the sound of my voice and has never heard me, and can remember my face and has never seen me? »

 

Stay tuned for final part of the story

 

Contributed by my dear friend Mr. Jaap Verraes.

Story Time / the story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 2

The story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / part 2

 

Meanwhile the days were weighing heavily upon the shoulders of Ta-Khai, and he became very unhappy; he forgot to eat, he forgot to drink, and he even forgot which was day and which night, what was in was and what was out, what was left and what was right. He spent his time roaming over the mountains and through the woods crying aloud to the gods to end his life and his sorrow.

 

It was in this way, one day that he came to the edge of a cliff. The valley below was scattered with rocks, and the thought came to his mind that he had been led to this place to put and to his misery. He was about to throw himself into the depths below when suddenly a Phoenix flew across the valley and appeared before him, saying:

 

« Why are you, a mighty Prince, standing here, looking so sad? »

 

Ta-Khai replied: “Nothing matters to me now but finding the beautiful girl for whom my heart is thirsting, but how can I find her?”

And he told the bird his story.

 

The Phoenix replied:

 

« Without the help of Supreme Heaven it is not easy to acquire wisdom, but it is a sign that Heaven has sent me to help you. I can make myself large enough to carry the largest town upon my back, or small enough to pass through the smallest keyhole, and I know all the princesses in all the palaces of the earth. They all know my song, and I am their friend. Therefore show me the picture, Ta-Khai, and I will tell you the name of the princess you saw in your dream.»

 

They went to the palace, and, when the portrait was shown, the bird became as large as an elephant, and exclaimed, « Sit on my back, Ta-Khai, and I will carry you to the place of your dream. There you will find Sai-Jen, the daughter of the Emperor of China, the princess of your dream. .»

 

Stay tuned for the upcoming parts

 

Contributed by my dear friend Mr. Jaap Verraes.

Story Time / the story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 1

 

The story of prince Ta-Khai & princess Sai-Jen / Part 1

 

Ta-Khai, Prince of Tartary, dreamed one night that he saw in a place where he had never been before an enchantingly beautiful young maiden who could only be a princess. He fell desperately in love with her, but before he could either move or speak, she had vanished. When he awoke he called for his ink and brushes, and drew her image on a piece of precious silk, and in one corner, he wrote these lines:

 

The flowers of the peony
Will they ever bloom?
A day without her
Is like a hundred years.

 

He then summoned his ministers, and, showing them the portrait, asked if anyone could tell him the name of the beautiful maiden; but they all shook their heads and stroked their beards. They did not know who she was.

 

So displeased was the prince that he sent them away in disgrace to the most remote provinces of his kingdom. All the courtiers, the generals, the officers, and every man and woman, high and low, who lived in the palace, came in turn to look at the picture. However, they all had to confess their ignorance.

 

Ta-Khai then called upon the magicians of the kingdom to find out in magic ways the name of the princess of his dreams, but their answers were so widely different that the prince condemned them all to have their noses cut off.  The portrait was shown in the  outer court of the palace from sunrise till sunset, and travelers from all over the world came in every day, gazed upon the beautiful face, and came out again. No-one could tell who she was...

 

Stay tuned for the next part...

 

Contributed by my dear friend, Mr.Jaap Verraes.

A Glance Through a Few Pages

 

آنگاه که کتاب ها را میگشایم

از میانشان رایحه ای از زمان گذشته به مشام میرسد.

گویی به عطری از دانش و احساسات مزین اند که برای سال ها در میان صفحات خفته بوده است.

عطرشان را سر میکشم

نگاهم بر صفحاتشان می لغزد

سپس هر کدام را به قفسه شان باز میگردانم...

 

 

Story Time

 

How are you doing dear fellows? I have some good news for you, but first let me on behalf of the team, thank each and every one of you for sending us beautiful and heartwarming feedbacks🌸🌸...

So, the good news is, we are adding a new section for short stories and to make it easier for you, we will post each story in several parts and each part will be posted on the weblog at 10p.m everynight. Hope you love this new section too. 🌸🌸

idiom

​?Has it ever happened to you
?When
?Who were you talking about

ثبت توسط: امین فیجانی

we are magical like a phoenix

 

We are magical like a phoenix. 😊😊😊
 

What is the greatest thing that you can imagine yourself achieving in a lifetime? to us, nothing was greater than starting an english weblog🙃🙃. A weblog as glorious & magical as the phoenix itself. We believe this one stands high in terms of our expectations and I’m dead sure you see this eye to eye with us because this is the very first English weblog written by you and us. Basically this is the English weblog we (students at Zand University) have dreamt of for a long long time. & you are all invited to share your ideas, passions and feelings with the rest of the world through this new format.

Can’t wait to meet you in person in the department of cultural affairs.

mother's day ترجمه

 

 

ستودنی است چهره ات
 
  نامت نیز
 
ای عشق من
 
 
 خنده های تو آرام بخش اند
 
که روح مرا به پرواز میکشانند
 
ای عشق من
 
چه بسیار شب ها..چه زمان ها که پرستار من بودی 

 

 افسوس، هرگز نفهمیدم
 
و اکنون دیگر دیر است
 
مرا ببخش
 
حال، من تنها و غرق شرمساریم 

چرا که  تمام این سالها سبب آزردگیت شدم  
 
 ای کاش فقط یکبار دیگر میتوانستم در آغوش تو آرام گیرم...
 
مادر... من خالی از تو، سرگشته و پریشانم
 
تو خورشیدوار به هر روز من درخشیدی..

 
حال چه کسی اشکهایم را پاک کند
 
 ای کاش درک امروزم را داشتم

 

مادرم، من بی تو سرگردان و حیرانم..

 

مترجم: امین فیجانی

نوشته شده توسط: امین فیجانی

In Search of Lost Time

 

---

 

We believe that we can change the things around us in accordance with our desires—we believe it because otherwise we can see no favorable outcome. We do not think of the outcome which generally comes to pass and is also favorable: we do not succeed in changing things in accordance with our desires, but gradually our desires change. The situation that we hoped to change because it was intolerable becomes unimportant to us. We have failed to surmount the obstacle, as we were absolutely determined to do, but life has taken us round it, led us beyond it, and then if we turn round to gaze into the distance of the past, we can barely see it, so imperceptible has it become

― Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

The Time Keeper

 

On the occasion of mother's day

Blessed is your face 

Blessed is your name 

My beloved 

Blessed is your smile 

Which makes my soul want to fly 

My beloved 

All the nights And all the times That you cared for me 

But I never realised it 

And now it’s too late 

Forgive me 

Now I’m alone filled with so much shame 

For all the years I caused you pain 

If only I could sleep in your arms again 

Mother I’m lost without you 

You were the sun that brightened my day 

Now who’s going to wipe my tears away 

If only I knew what I know today 

Mother I’m lost without you 

 

You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars

.Many of those stars have already died, and yet their light fills the universe

.Other stars were born far away , and their light has not yet reached us

...We study what we can see , but what we see is not always what exists

Paulo Coelho , Brida

                                

چرا اينجا؟!

از وقتی مسئولیت توجیه چرایی وبلاگ به من و مریم محول شد هزار جور بهش فکر کردیم..
آخرشم به این نتیجه رسیدیم که بهتره کل قصه رو از اول خودتون بشنوید!
در طول جلسات ترم مهر انجمن بينابين پيشنهادات و ايده هاي بازديد علمي و كارگاه و اينجور چيزا به ذهنمون رسيد كه نشريه بزنيم! 
توي كشمكش هاي نشريه بوديم كه ندا آمد : وبلاگ! 
حالا واسه چي؟
بذار تا برات بگم.
اول از همه اينكه شمارو با داغ ترين خبرهاي دانشگاه و برنامه هاي انجمن علمي اعم از بازديد ها و كارگاه ها مطلع كنيم. دوم اينكه اینجا حرفاتونو میشنویم (ارتباط با ما) 
حرفامونو بشنوید
تکست های ادبی  مرتبط به رشتمون رو به اشتراک میذاریم..
چاشنی ترجمه رو هم هروقت استعداد یاری کرد اضاف می کنیم!!
گهگاهی نکات تدریس
مصاحبه کاری و فرصتای شغلی رو میگیم..
وقت کنکورم جو کنکوری رو on می کنیم😉
مطالب شمارو هم به اسم خودتون منتشر میکنیم. 
خلاصه قراره حسابی غوغا کنیم باطعم شيرازي!
به محفل گرم ما خوش اومدین🌹
راسي تا يادم نرفته اينم بگم اگر آثاري داريد مثل خطاطي، نقاشي، طراحي، كاريكاتور، دستور آشپزي حتي و ... برامون بفرستيد.

ثبت توسط: المیرا بدیعی، مریم تجلی

Phoenix

 

 

Have you ever wondered “why our university has no publications or weblogs written in English”? We’ve been asking ourselves the same question over the past few months and you know what? We have decided to stop wondering and begin to amaze!

Here it is! The very first English weblog of our university. But first, we had to vote for a perfect title, one that could reflect our goals and visions properly. A unique and magical one. In terms of magic, nothing is more significant than Phoenix for it has a prominent presence, and a rich history in various myths and cultures.

That’s why we finally decided to go with “Phoenix”. You probably have heard about this magnificent bird, but let me give you a more in-depth description of this wonderful creature and the reason why we chose it for the title of our weblog.

Basically, phoenix is considered to be a magical bird in different myths and cultures and it is believed that phoenix first appeared in Greek or Egyptian mythology and then it found its way into other countries like Iran, China, and India. Nowadays it’s known as an international symbol.

In Egyptian mythology, phoenix is assumed to have scarlet and golden feathers resembling the glowing hue of the rising sun and apparently she can live up to a thousand years.

According to ancientpages.com “When Phoenix reaches the end of her life, she sets the nest and herself on fire and is burned to ashes. Shortly, the Phoenix rises again and begins her life anew. In some traditions, the new Phoenix gathers up the old ashes and takes them to the Egyptian city of Heliopolis to offer them to the Sun God. The ashes that are laid on the Altar of the Sun are said to have the power of bringing a dead person back to life.”

All we could ever wish for, in a word; “Phoenix” – a beautiful, wise, caring, bird that is believed to provide help for those who deserve it in desperate times. A bird whose tear can heal the most fatal wounds, and whose song can conciliate the most painful grievances. A bird who rises from her own ashes to glorious beauty.

Hoping that this weblog can stand as a sign of our strength as a group, our friendship as classmates, and that it can inspire us to “rise and shine”, we have named it Phoenix. May it live a long, glorious life like the magical owner of its name, and heal the wounds of ignorance.

On behalf of all the writers of Phoenix, I would like to invite every one of you to join us on a great new adventure that we are about to embark upon.

Special thanks to Miss. Khalilian (the weblog's supervisor) and my dear friends Ardalan Ladan & Amin Fijani for proofreading & editing.