parttimeangel - Tumblr blog

[parttimeangel]

“Dearest,

I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ‘til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer.

I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been.”

March 28, 1941 - Virginia Woolf’s suicide letter.

[parttimeangel]

another look at my desk space ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚˖ ݁ ⋆

ig: moonberyll

[parttimeangel]

[parttimeangel]

"Not speaking and speaking are both human ways of being in the world, and there are kinds and grades of each. There is the dumb silence of slumber or apathy; the sober silence that goes with a solemn animal face; the fertile silence of awareness, pasturing the soul, whence emerge new thoughts; the alive silence of alert perception, ready to say, “This… this…”; the musical silence that accompanies absorbed activity; the silence of listening to another speak, catching the drift and helping him be clear; the noisy silence of resentment and self-recrimination, loud and subvocal speech but sullen to say it; baffled silence; the silence of peaceful accord with other persons or communion with the cosmos."

-Paul Goodman, Speaking and Language

[parttimeangel]

Unison

I felt like calling, but I had to leave with the flood of his eyes… They streamed from extremes of night-

along the long limbs of desire and thirst, to the morose vibration of fever, to the lost end of me.

I felt released. I felt released.

I saw my skin cracking in the expansion of love. I saw my burning mass, slowly melted; melted and poured, poured, poured. It poured in the moon, that waned, slight, pale moon.

We had cried in each other. In that fleeting instant of unison

We had lived madly in each other.

- Forough Farrokhzad ,Trans. by Maryam Dilmaghani

[parttimeangel]

دے رہے ہیں لوگ میرے دل پہ دستک بار بار، دل مگر یہ کہہ رہا ہے صرف تو اور صرف تو

De rahe hain log mere dil pe dastak bar bar, dil magar yeh keh raha hai sirf Tu aur sirf Tu

— Fariha Naqvi فریحہ نقوی

[parttimeangel]

In Her Splendor Islanded

In Her splendor islanded This woman burning like a charm of jewels An army terrifying and asleep This woman lying within the night Like clear water lying on closed eyes In a tree’s shadow A waterfall halted halfway in its flight A rapid narrow river suddenly frozen At the foot of a great and seamless rock At the foot of a mountain She is lake-water in April as she lies In her depths binding poplar and eucalyptus Fishes or stars burning between her thighs Shadow of birds scarcely hiding her sex Her breasts two still villages under a peaceful sky This woman lying here like a white stone Like water in the moon in a dead crater Not a sound in the night not moss nor sand Only the slow budding of my words At the ear of water at the ear of flesh Unhurried running And clear memorial Here is the moment burning and returned Drowning itself in itself and never consumed

-Octavio Paz, transl. by Muriel Rukeyser

[parttimeangel]

Come

Come, even with anguish, even to torture my heart; Come, even if only to abandon me to torment again.

Come, if not for our past commerce, Then to faithfully fulfill the ancient barbaric rituals.

Who else can recite the reasons for our separation? Come, despite your reluctance, to continue the litanies, the ceremony.

Respect, even if only a little, the depth of my love for you; Come, someday, to offer me consolation as well.

Too long you have deprived me of the pathos of longing; Come again, my love, if only to make me weep.

Till now, my heart still suffers some slight expectation; So come, snuff out even the last flickering torch of hope!

-by Ahmad Faraz, transl. by Michael R. Burch

[parttimeangel]

I Cannot Remember

I once was a poet too (you gave life to my words), but now I cannot remember Since I have forgotten you (my love!), my art too I cannot remember

Yesterday consulting my heart, I learned that your hair, lips, mouth, I cannot remember

In the city of the intellect insanity is silence But now your sweet, spontaneous voice, its fluidity, I cannot remember

Once I was unfamiliar with wrecking balls and ruins But now the cultivation of gardens, I cannot remember

Now everyone shops at the store selling arrows and quivers But neglects his own body, the client he cannot remember

Since time has brought me to a desert of such arid forgetfulness Even your name may perish; I cannot remember

In this narrow state of being, lacking a country, even the abandonment of my fellow countrymen, I cannot remember

-Ahmad Faraz, transl. by  Michael R. Burch

[parttimeangel]

" when you ask me, in the middle of everything - tell me something good; this is what i want to say,

that you are my favorite person in the entire world. that i wish to tape your laughter and listen to it on a rainy day. that the arc of your eyebrows are a thousand arrows released and they never miss their aim "

[parttimeangel]

“Be near me now, My tormenter, my love, be near me - At this hour when night comes down,”

—Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Be Near Me (tr. by Naomi Lazard)

[parttimeangel]

“The sky, wherever I looked, was nothing but your eyes. If you’d fall into my arms, Fate would be helpless.”

— Faiz Ahmad Faiz, from Don’t Ask Me For That Love Again (tr. by Agha Shahid Ali)

[parttimeangel]

-Majnuu

Story of Layla and Majnun // October 11, 2011 ~ ecstasyoflove

[parttimeangel]

[parttimeangel]

Also I found this while in the forest, it made me happy

[parttimeangel]

everything u need to know about me can actually be explained by the fact that i read that poem about the serving girl wearing the pearls so they're warm for her mistress when i was like 11 and it rewrote my brain chemistry forever

like this Changed Me

[parttimeangel]

pat mcgrath for maison margiela couture ss24