En Beğenilen V. Gönderileri
En Beğenilen V. kitaplarını, en beğenilen V. sözleri ve alıntılarını, en beğenilen V. yazarlarını, en beğenilen V. yorumları ve incelemelerini 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.
En Zor 100 Kitap (Goodreads'den)
Her topluluk liste yapmış zamanında, Goodreads'ın bolca var mesela. Bu da onlardan biri - en zor 100 kitap (200'lük versiyonu da var) En azından BBC ve benzeri medya kuruluşlarına göre daha evrensel. Biz de bu liste işine girsek diyorum bir ara (#39501741 iletisinde girdik:) - 1000 kitap kullanıcılarının okurken
Geçtiğin her şehir biraz senindir
biraz da hikayendir..
Kimbilir…
Belki de ömrünü bıraktığın yerdir.
Love's a lash,
Kisses gall the tongue, harrow the heart;
Caresses tease
Cankered tissue apart.
Liebchen, come
Be my Hottentot bondsman tonight,
The sjambok's kiss
Is unending delight.
Love, my little slave,
Is color-blind;
For white and black
Are only states of mind.
So at my feet
Nod and genuflect, whimper for me:
Though tears are dried
Their pain is yet to be.
Sayfa 238Kitabı okuyor
Anlam Yoğunluğu
.
Ağzın kapalı sev, kıçını kırmadan ya da bunu duyurmadan yardım et.
Sakin ol ama umursa !..
...
Dikkat !..
.
Çeneni kapalı sev, kıçını kırmadan veya reklamını yapmadan yardım et.
Sakin ol ama dikkatli ol.
.
The desert creeps in on a man's land. Not a fellah, but he does own some land. Did own. From a boy, he has repaired the wall, mortared, carried stone heavy as he, lifted, set in place. Still the desert comes. Is the wall a traitor, letting it in? Is the boy possessed by a djinn who makes his hands do the work wrong? Is the desert's attack too powerful for any boy, or wall, or dead father and mother?
No. The desert moves in. It happens, nothing else. No djinn in the boy, no treachery in the wall, no hostility in the desert. Nothing.
Soon, nothing. Soon only the desert. The two goats must choke on sand, nuzzling down to find the white clover. He, never to taste their soured milk again. The melons die beneath the sand. Never more can you give comfort in the summer, cool abdelawi, shaped like the Angel's trumpet! The maize dies and there is no bread. The wife, the children grow sick and short-tempered. The man, he, runs one night out to where the wall was, begins to lift and toss imaginary rocks about, curses Allah, then begs forgiveness from the Prophet, then urinates on the desert, hoping to insult what cannot be insulted.
They find him in the morning a mile from the the house, skin blued, shivering in a sleep which is almost death, tears turned to frost on the sand.
And now the house begins to fill with desert, like the lower half of an hourglass which will never be inverted again.
What does a man do?