THE INTERVIEW WITH GOD


I dreamed I had an interview with God. 
در رویاهایم دیدم که با خدا گفت و گو می کنم.


“So you would like to interview me?” God asked. 
خدا پرسید:پس تو می خواهی با من گفت و گو کنی؟


“If you have the time” I said. 
من در پاسخش گفتم:اگر وقت دارید.


God smiled. “My time is eternity.” 
“What questions do you have in mind for me?” 
خدا خندید و گفت: وقت من بی نهایت اس.
در ذهنت چیست که می خواهی از من بپرسی؟


“What surprises you most about humankind?” 
پرسیدم:چه چیز بشر, شما را سخت متعجب می سازد؟


God answered... 
“That they get bored with childhood, 
they rush to grow up, and then 
long to be children again.”
 
پاسخ داد:کودکی شان ،اینکه آنها از کودکی شان خسته می شوند.خدا

عجله دارند که زودتر بزرگ شوند و بعد حسرت دوران کودکی را می خورند


“That they lose their health to make money... 
and then lose their money to restore their health.”
 
این که سلامتی شان را صرف به دست آوردن پول می کنند.

و بعد پولشان را خرج حفظ سلامتی میکنند .


“That by thinking anxiously about the future, 
they forget the present, 
such that they live in neither 
the present nor the future.”
 
این که با نگرانی نسبت به آینده فکر میکنند .

زمان حال فراموش شان می شود .

آنچنان که دیگر نه در آینده زندگی میکنند و نه در حال .


"That they live as if they will never die, 
and die as though they had never lived.”
 
اینکه آنها به گونه ای زندگی می کنند که گوئی هرگز نمی میرند و

به گونه ای می میرند که گوئی هرگز زندگی نکرده اند


God’s hand took mine 
and we were silent for a while. 
خداوند دست های مرا در دست گرفت و مدتی سکوت کردیم


And then I asked... 
“As a parent, what are some of life’s lessons 
you want your children to learn?” 
بعد پرسیدم ...

به عنوان خالق انسان ها ، میخواهید آنها چه درس هایی از زندگی را یاد بگیرند ؟

God replied with a smile

خدا با لبخند پاسخ داد .


“To learn they cannot make anyone 
love them. All they can do 
is let themselves be loved.” 
یاد بگیرند که نمی توان دیگران را مجبور به دوست داشتن خود کرد .
اما می توان محبوب دیگران شد .


“To learn that it is not good 
to compare themselves to others.”
 
بیاموزند که درست نیست خودشان را با دیگران مقایسه کنند


“To learn to forgive 
by practicing forgiveness.”
 
با بخشیدن ، بخشش را یاد بگیرن


“To learn that it only takes a few seconds 
to open profound wounds in those they love, 
and it can take many years to heal them.”
 
بیاموزند که فقط چند ثانیه طول می کشد

تا زخم های عمیقی در دل آنان که دوستشان داریم ایجاد کنیم

اما سالها طول می کشد تا آن زخم ها را التیام بخشیم


“To learn that a rich person 
is not one who has the most, 
but is one who needs the least.” 
بیاموزند ثروتمند کسی نیست که بیشترین ها را دارد ،

بلکه کسی است که به کمترین ها نیاز دارد.


“To learn that there are people 
who love them dearly, 
but simply have not yet learned 
how to express or show their feelings.” 
بیاموزند که آدمهایی هستند که

آنها را دوست دارند فقط نمی دانند

که چگونه احساساتشان را نشان دهند،


“To learn that two people can 
look at the same thing 
and see it differently.”
 
بیاموزند که دو نفر می توانند با هم به یک نقطه

نگاه کنند و آن را متفاوت ببینند


“To learn that it is not enough that they 
forgive one another, but they must also forgive themselves.”
 
یاد بگیرن که همیشه کافی نیست دیگران آنها را ببخشند .

بلکه خودشان هم باید خود را ببخشند .


"Thank you for your time," I said humbly. 
.من با خضوع گفتم:از شما به خاطر این گفت و گو متشکرم


"Is there anything else 
you would like your children to know?"
 
آیا چیز دیگری هست که دوست دارید فرزندانتان بدانند؟


God smiled and said, 
“Just know that I am here... always.”
 
خداوند لبخند زد و گفت :

فقط اینکه بدانند من اینجا هستم،همیشه

 گفتگو با خدا اثر رابیندرانات تاگور

شعری از شکسپیر با ترجمه فارسی

 
Sonnet 18:
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
 
William Shakespeare

 

ادامه نوشته

متن شعر و ترجمه Tell me why

دکلن گلبریت (Declan Galbraith) خواننده اسکاتلندی در سال ۲۰۰۲در استادیوم اودیسه در بلفاست با خواندن آهنگ "بمن بگو چرا" (Tell Me Why) چشمان بسیاری را به خود خیره کرد. او در آن زمان یازده سال بیشتر نداشت. آهنگ مزبور را دکلن با ده هزار کودک دیگر در استادیوم اودیسه اجرا کرد در حالیکه همزمان توسط ماهواره و رادیو ۸۰۰۰۰ کودک دیگر در مدارس سرتاسر بریتانیا بزرگترین ترانه کُر جهان را با او اجرا کردند...

 لینک دانلود ترانه هم در بخش پیوند های روزانه قرار دادم.

In my dream
در رویاهایم

Children sing
کودکان می خوانند

A song of love for every boy and girl
ترانه ای از عشق برای هر پسر و هر دختر

The sky is blue
آسمان آبی است

The fields are green
مزارع سبزند

And laughter is the language of the world
و قهقهه زبان مردم دنیاست

Then I wake and all I see
اما بعد از خواب برمی خیزم و آنچه که می بینم

Is a world full of people in need
دنیائی است پر از مردم محروم

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Does it have to be like this
آیا باید اینگونه باشد؟

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Is there something I have missed
آیا چیزی هست که من آن را از نظر دور داشته ام؟

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Cause I don’t understand
چون من درک نمی کنم

When so many need somebody we don’t give a helping hand
وقتی اینهمه انسان به کسی نیاز دارند و ما دست کمکی به آنها نمی دهیم

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟


Every day
هر روز

I ask myself
از خود می پرسم

What will I have to do to be a man
من چه باید بکنم تا یک مرد باشم؟

Do I have to stand and fight
باید بایستم و بجنگم؟

To prove to everybody who I am
برای آنکه به همه ثابت کنم من هستم؟

Is that what my life is for
آیا این هدف از زندگی من است؟

To waste in a world full of war
که در دنیائی پر از جنگ زندگی خود را هدر دهم؟

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Does it have to be like this
آیا باید اینگونه باشد؟

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Is there something I have missed
چیزی هست که من آنرا متوجه نشده ام؟

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

Cause I don’t understand
چون من درک نمی کنم

When so many need somebody we don’t give a helping hand
وقتی اینهمه انسان به کسی نیاز دارند و ما دست کمکی به آنها نمی دهیم

Tell me why
بمن بگو چرا؟

ترجمه شعر Remembrance


Remembrance

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
 
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possest,
 
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
 
Hoply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
 
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings


William Shakespeare



ادامه نوشته

Journey of the Magi

Journey of the Magi

T.S. Eliot

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Than at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different: this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Cross

Cross

By: Langston Hughes

My old man's a white old man
and my old mother's black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.
If ever I cursed my black old mother
And wished she were in hell,
I'm sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well
My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I'm going to die,
Being neither white nor black? 

ادامه نوشته

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 1819

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
    Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
    And no birds sing.

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
    So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
    And the harvest's done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
    With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
    Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,
    Full beautiful - a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
    And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
    And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
    And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
    And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
    A faery's song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
    And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said -
    'I love thee true'.

She took me to her elfin grot,
    And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
    With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep
    And there I dreamed - Ah! woe betide! -
The latest dream I ever dreamt
    On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
    Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried - 'La Belle Dame sans Merci
    Hath thee in thrall!'

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
    With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
    On the cold hill's side.

And this is why I sojourn here
    Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake, 
    And no birds sing.
 

ادامه نوشته

The Twa Corbies

·         The Twa Corbies

·         As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies makin a mane;
The tane unto the ither say,
"Whar sall we gang and dine the-day?"

·         "In ahint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And nane do ken that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound an his lady fair."

·         "His hound is tae the huntin gane,
His hawk tae fetch the wild-fowl hame, 
His lady's tain anither mate,
So we may mak oor dinner swate."

·         "Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike oot his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair 
We'll theek oor nest whan it grows bare."

·         "Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken whar he is gane;
Oer his white banes, whan they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair."

 

ادامه نوشته

Death be not proud

 

 

Death be not proud

by:

John Donne

 

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee 

 

Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,

 

For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,

 

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

 

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,

         5

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

 

And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,

 

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

 

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,

 

And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,

  10

And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,

 

And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;

 

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

 

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

 

 

 

ادامه نوشته

The Good Morrow

"The Good-Morrow"

By:

John Donne

 

I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I

Did, till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then?

But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly?

Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den?

T'was so; But this, all pleasures fancies bee.

If ever any beauty I did see,

Which I desir'd, and got, 'twas but a dreame of thee.

 

And now good morrow to our waking soules,

Which watch not one another out of feare;

For love, all love of other sights controules,

And makes one little roome, an every where.

Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,

Let Maps to other, worlds on worlds have showne,

Let us possesse one world; each hath one, and is one.

 

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,

And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,

Where can we finde two better hemispheares

Without sharpe North, without declining West?

What ever dyes, was not mixed equally;

If our two loves be one, or, thou and I

Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.

ادامه نوشته

Richard Cory

Richard Cory

by:Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked; 
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; 
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head. 

ادامه نوشته

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death

by Emily Dickinson

 

 

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste, 
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

ادامه نوشته