”صحبت از برادر کشی است، مصیبت دوگانه ای که نه چیزی برای خوشبختی دارد و نه درد عمیق تری برای غرق شدن. یکی را به خاک میسپارند و دیگری را به گورستان راه نمیدهند. آنتی گون با صدایی خسته مینالد: گوری که از آن برادران ماست، آری، کروئون بر یکی ارزانی و از دیگری دریغ میدارد
هر روز میروی از پشت پرده به این صحنه خیره میشوی و سیر نمیشوی: ایسمنه، یک نفس لرزان میکشد، خواهرم، یک نفس دیگر. مهربان روزهای بدبختی ام! نفس کشیدنهای بین کلماتش تو را کشته است.”
روحت شاد!
“It is a matter of fratricide. A twofold disaster which has neither something for happiness, nor a deeper pain to get drowned. One is committed to the soil and another is not permitted to be buried in the graveyard.
Antigone, moans which a tired voice: The grave which belongs to our brothers, yes, Creon grants to one and withholds from another.
Everyday, you go and stare at the scene from behind the curtain and you never get satisfied.
Ismene inhales a trembling breath, of my sister, another breath.
Oh you, the sympathetic one of my days of misery! The breathing between his words has killed you.”
Antigone, moans which a tired voice: The grave which belongs to our brothers, yes, Creon grants to one and withholds from another.
Everyday, you go and stare at the scene from behind the curtain and you never get satisfied.
Ismene inhales a trembling breath, of my sister, another breath.
Oh you, the sympathetic one of my days of misery! The breathing between his words has killed you.”
from “Shabane” a short story by Abbas Maroufi
(Translation by Taraneh Karimian)
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