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اثر پابلو نرودا از انتشارات نیلوفر - مترجم: کیوان نریمانی-جدید ترین کتاب ها

When Neruda died in 1973, The Book of Questions was one of eight unpublished poetry manuscripts that lay on his desk. In it, Neruda achieves a deeper vulnerability and vision than in his earlier work-and this unique book is a testament to everything that made Neruda an artist. Pablo Neruda is one of the worlds most popular poets, and in The Book of Questions, Neruda refuses to be corralled by the rational mind. Composed of 316 unanswerable questions, these poems integrate the wonder of a child with the experiences of an adult. By turns Orphic, comic, surreal, and poignant, Nerudas questions lead the reader beyond reason into realms of intuition and pure imagination.


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نمی‌دونم اشعار یا بهتره بگیم @تکه‌ها@ در طول زمان جمع‌آوری شدن و بر این اساس چیده شدن، اما هرچی به آخر نزدیک‌تر می‌شی بهتر می‌شه و انگار پخته‌تر می‌شه نوشتن براش توی این فرم. اوایل‌اش فقط سه بود اما آخراش باعث شد که به چهار ستاره برسه.

مشاهده لینک اصلی
نمره ی واقعی: 3.5

کتاب مختصر و جالبی است شامل 316 سؤال نامعمول در قالب 74 شعر. بعضی جاها واقعا ابهام وجود داره اما سؤال ها و اشعار خوبش انقد هست که به خوبیش ضرر نزنه. مقدمه ی اُدِیلی یکم عرفانی شده اما در کل مقدمه ی بدی نیست - هرچند مختصره و صرفا اشاره. ادیلی در اونجا بر این تأکید می کنه که این اشعار جوابی ندارن و در واقع برای در هم شکستن سلطه ی عقلانیت منطقی و غرق شدن در امر شناخت ناپذیرن. یعنی یک تعالی بخشی. اما من انقد قضیه رو سفت و سخت نمی بینم درسته که چنین دلالتی در اشعار نرودا هست اما اینجوری نیست که همشون سوال هایی بی جواب باشن یا لزوما تعالی بخش

حاشیه: ظاهرا این کتاب ترجمه هم شده، من ترجمشو ندیدم

اشعار زیادی در دیگر نظرات اومده. من برای نمونه دو شعر مرتبط رو اینجا می یارم ( اشعار 70 و 71 ) - که البته این آوردن به معنا بهتر بودنشون از بقیه ی اشعار نیست

What forced labor
does Hitler do in hell?

Does he paint walls or cadavers?
Does he sniff the fumes of the dead?
Do they feed him the ashes
of so many burnt children?

Or, since his death, have they given him
blood to drink from a funnel?
Or do they hammer into his mouth
the pulled gold teeth?


Or do they lay him down to sleep
on his barbed wire?
Or are they tattooing his skin
for the lamps in hell?

Or do black mastiffs of flame
bite him without mercy?
Or must he travel without rest,
night and day with his prisoners?
Or must he die without dying
eternally under the gas?



مشاهده لینک اصلی
In France, where does spring get so many leaves?

Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?

Where is the child I was, still inside me or gone?
Does he know that I never loved him and that he never loved me?
Why did we spend so much time · growing up only to separate?
Why did we both not die when my childhood died?
And why does my skeleton pursue me if my soul has fallen away?

Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

Does a word sometimes slither like a serpent?

In which language does rain fall over tormented cities?

Why do leaves commit suicide when they feel yellow?

What does old ash say when it passes near the fire?

How many questions does a cat have?

Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
Or are they invisible rivers that run toward sadness?

How do the oranges divide up sunlight in the orange tree?

Why doesnt Thursday talk itself into coming after Friday?
Who shouted with glee when the color blue was born?

Do salt and sugar work to build a white tower?

(Why not give a medal to the first golden leaf?)

What do they call a flower that flies from bird to bird?

And why did cheese decide to perform heroic deeds in France?

Why dont the poor understand as soon as they stop being poor?

Does the earth sing like a cricket in the music of the heavens?

Is it true that sadness is thick and melancholy thin?

And why is the sun such a bad companion to the traveler in the desert?

Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities?
Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?
Or will life not be a fish prepared to be a bird?
Will death consist of non-being or of dangerous substances?

What do they call the sadness of a solitary sheep?

If the flies make honey will they offend the bees?

And what is the name of the month that falls between December and January?

Did spring never deceive you with kisses that didnt blossom?

When I see the sea once more will the sea have seen or not seen me?
Why do the waves ask me the same questions I ask them?
And why do they strike the rock with so much wasted passion?
Dont they get tired of repeating their declaration to the sand?

Who can convince the sea to be reasonable?
Whats it get from demolishing blue amber, green granite?
And why so many wrinkles and so many holes in the rock?
I came from behind the sea, now where !do I go when it cuts me off?
Why did I close the road, falling into the seas trap?

Why do I hate cities smelling of women and urine?
Isnt the city the great ocean of quaking mattresses?
Doesnt Oceania of the winds have islands and palm trees?
Why did I return to the indifference of the limitless ocean?

Why dont they send moles and turtles to the moon?
Couldnt the animals that engineer hollows and tunnels
take charge of these distant inspections?

What forced labor does Hitler do in hell?
Does he paint walls or cadavers? Does he sniff the fumes of the dead?
Do they feed him the ashes of so many burnt children?
Or, since his death, have they given him blood to drink from a funnel?
Or do they hammer into his mouth the pulled gold teeth?
Or do they lay him down to sleep on his barbed wire?
Or are they tattooing his skin for the lamps in hell?
Or do black mastiffs of flame bite him without mercy?
Or must he travel without rest, night and day with his prisoners?
Or must he die without dying eternally under the gas?

If all rivers are sweet where does the sea get its salt?
How do the seasons know they must change their shirt?
Why so slowly in winter and later with such a rapid shudder?
And how do the roots know they must climb toward the light?
And then greet the air with so many flowers and colors?
Is it always the same spring who revives her role?

Why does it linger in the branches until the leaves fall?
And where are its yellow trousers left hanging?
Is it true that autumn seems to wait for something to happen?
Perhaps the trembling of a leaf or the movement of the universe?
Is there a magnet under the earth, brother magnet of autumn?
When is the appointment of the rose decreed under the earth?

مشاهده لینک اصلی
316 questions posed by the great poet just months before his death. I found more than 70 of them worth copying into my journal, and Im not particularly compulsive about things like that. Reading them, you will probably find yourself transported to an especially thoughtful and unusual frame of mind.

Here are some personal favorites (spaced widely to try to preserve some measure of the original pacing):




Is it true that in an anthill, dreams are duty?




Am I allowed to ask my book whether its true I wrote it?




Why did the grove undress itself only to wait for the snow?




You have room for some thorns? they asked the rose bush.




Where can you find a bell that will ring in your dreams?




Does the earth sing like a cricket in the music of the heavens?




And at whom does rice smile with infinitely many white teeth?




Will Czechoslovakians or turtles be born from your ashes?




In dreams, do plants blossom and their solemn fruit ripen?




And why does my skeleton pursue me if my soul has fallen away?




Isnt the city the great ocean of quaking mattresses?




What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?




What was awaiting me in Isla Negra? The green truth or decorum?

مشاهده لینک اصلی
Simply hilarious. The great Chilean poet wrote a book of nothing but strange, bizarre questions, like:

Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?

Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?

Who hears the regrets
of the thieving automobile?

Is there anything in the world sadder
than a train standing in the rain?

Many of them would make for great prompts for writing exercises.

مشاهده لینک اصلی
كتاب خفيف يحتوي على تساؤلات فلسفية عميقة

مشاهده لینک اصلی
Is it true our desires
must be watered with dew?

مشاهده لینک اصلی
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