القصة الأولى:
رغبةٌ ( قصّة قصيرة )
بقلم: عاشور زكي وهبة
ترجمها إلى الإنجليزية عبد اللطيف غسري
ذاتَ شفقٍ، كان جالسًا على رأس حقله الأخضر، أسفل شجرة التوتِ العتيقةِ، على شاطيء الترعة الغربيَّة، يرتدي جلبابًا أبيضَ ويتصفَّحُ كتابًا ضخمًا عابثًا في ذقنه المُشذَّبِ؛ أحسَّ بوقعِ خطواتٍ حثيثةٍ يقتربُ في الجوارِ؛ رفعَ رأسَه فهالَهُ ما أبصرَ..
رآها غير بعيدٍ على الشطِّ الثاني، تتجرّدُ من ملابسها الواحد تلو الآخر؛ أغلقَ الكتابَ وغضَّ البصر.
خالهَا جنيَّةَ الغروبِ؛ همَّ بالقيامِ مهرولًا تجاه البلدةِ. استوقفه نداؤها وصياحها باسمه؛ دقَّ قلبًه واهتاجَ عقلُه.
خاطبَه قلبُه اللاهثُ: عسى أن تكونَ في ورطةٍ.. هيَّا اقتربْ.. اعبرْ المانعَ!
صاحَ به عقلُه الثائرُ: إنَّها فتنةٌ .. هيَّا ابتعدْ!
جذبه القلبُ: استفتني! إنَّها مُضطَرَّةٌ، وتستجيرُ بكَ.
بعدَ التشتتِ، انتصرَ القلبُ المُتقدُ على العقلِ الراشدِ. اجتازَ الترعةَ، فتحتْ له ذراعيها، وقد توهّج منها الوجه ونفرت العروقُ. انتفضَ الجسدانِ المُتعانقانِ، قالَ لها مُتلعثمًا: ماذا بكِ؟ وما بُغيتُكِ؟!
ردَّتْ شفتاها القرمزيتّانِ في شبه انهيارٍ:
- أريدَ.. يدكَ.. أنتَ.
- أنا.. أنا.. لكن!
- نعم! أنتَ لي وكلُّ حياتي.
حاولَ التملُّصَ منها؛ لكنّ كلَّ أعضائه وجوارحه ثارتْ ضدَّه. حملها بينَ ذراعيه، وهي تنظرُ إليه ضاحكةً بعينينِ كاحلتين وثغر باسمٍ أفلجَ الأسنانِ، تعبثُ بأناملها الرشيقة في شعيراتِ ذقنه الخفيفة.
من خلف أشجارٍ عاليَّةٍ، انبلجَ قصرٌ مشيدٌ يعجُّ بالخدمِ والحشمِ المُحتفين:
- مرحبًا سيدنا، تفضلا على الرحب والسعةِ!
ولجَ حاملًا غنيمته إلى إحدى الغرفِ المُعدَّة بسريرٍ وثيرٍ، أنزلها برفقٍ، مال ناحيتها، شبَّكتْ يديها حول رقبته وتمازجا، ذابا في عسل الحُبِّ. فُضَّ الغشاءُ فارتعدَ وشعرَ بثقلِ الخطيئةِ...
فجأةً تفجَّرتْ من تحتِ الأقدامِ العيونُ المُتدفِّقَةُ كأنما كانت ترقبهما من زمنٍ حتّى مجيءِ اللحظة الحاسمة.
هرولا إلى الخارجِ تتبعهما العيون الجاريّةَُ، توقّفتْ، أسرعَ بمفردِهِ بأقصى قوّتَِه، وهي تتابعُ وثباته وتخبطاته.
انهمر المطرُ مدرارًا، حينما وصل إلى الترعةِ الّتي صارتْ خضمًا عظيمًا. تذكَّرَ الطوفانَ وسفينة نوح دون وجودٍ لجبلٍ يعصمه من الماء أو أثرٍ لسفنٍ. جالَ بخاطره موسى وعصاتَه؛ لكن أين هو من موسى؟!
واصلَ هروبَه حتّى سقطَ في جُبٍّ عميقٍ؛ صاحَ مؤنبًا نفسه: أين أنتَ يا يوسف الصدِّيق؟!
رآها تقف فوق البئر المعطَّلة تضحكُ طارحةً رأسها للخلفِ وشعرها العاصفُ يغطي وجهها فتدفعه للوراء ضاربةً كفًّا بكفٍّ ولم تزل تقهقه. مرَّ بذهنه الشيطانُ وآدمُ عاري الجسم يخصف عليه من ورق الجنَّةِ وسط سخرية زعيم الجِنَّةِ الشامتة.
هبَّ من نومه مذعورًا، طفقَ يستجير ويستعيذُ بالله قارئًا آية الكرسيّ، وانطلقَ قرآنُ الفجر من المسجد المجاورِ؛ قام فاغتسلَ وسارَ إلى المسجدِ للصلاةِ...
فكَّرَ في حلم الليلةِ، تذكَّرَ الفتاةَ التي واقعها، أدركَ أنَّها عذراءُ القرية ذاتَ الخُلقِ المُباركِ والجمالِ الخارقِ.
تقدَّمَ لها الكثيرون فنالوا الرفضَ والإعراضَ دون استثناءٍ.
تذكَّرَ أنَّه أطالَ النظرَ إليها بالأمسِ فتبسَّمتْ؛ لكنَّه استعاذ بالله ساعتها على الرغم من أن خيالها لم يفارق عينيه. أدركَ أنَّه الوحيدُ الذي لم يتقدَّمْ لها وقد توفتْ امرأته بعد زواجٍ قصيرٍ نتيجة مرضٍ لم يدمْ طويلًا.
سألَ نفسه: لم لا أنال شرف المحاولة؟ هل ستقبلُ أرملَ؟!
صلّى ركعتَىّ الاستخارةِ فَهُدِيَ إلى خطبتها.
ارتدى حلة جديدة وتعطر، وخرج يحث الخطى، يدفعه شوقه إلى حيث منزل والدها في أقصى البلدة...
استوقفه صراخ وعويل، استعاذ من الشيطان الرجيم، وانطلق مندفعا إلى مصدرهما ليجد نفسه أمام بيتها الذي تأكله النار، والناس تتآزر لإخماد الحريق.
دفع الباب المشتعل، وجد النار تحاصرها من كل جانب. خلع حلته وألقاها عليها كاتما اللهب، حملها بين ذراعيه منتحبا.
تحركت شفتاها المحترقتان باسمه باسمة:
_ لقد تأخرت كثيرا، فلنلتقي إذن في جنة الخلد عند مليك مقتدر!
ثم لفظت أنفاسها الأخيرة.
Desire
By Ashour Zaki Wahba
Translated from Arabic by ABDELLATIF RHESRI
One twilight, he was standing at the edge of his green field, under the ancient mulberry tree, on the shore of the western canal, wearing a white robe, and perusing a bulky book, twiddling with his trimmed beard. He felt the sound of fast footsteps getting closer to the wall. He raised his head and got appalled with what he saw.
He saw her not faraway on the second shore, taking off her clothes one by one. He shut the book and lowered his eyes.
He thought she was the sunset fairy. He was about to stand up and scurry towards the town, when her screaming and calling out his name made him stop. His heart beat so hard and his mind got agitated.
His panting heart addressed him; "She may be in trouble. Come on, get closer. Cross the barrier!"
His agitated mind shouted; "It's an incitement. Come on, keep away!"
The heart pulled him; "Consult me! She's compelled, and she's seeking your protection".
After so much distraction, the enflamed heart triumphed over the rightly guided mind. He crossed the canal. She opened up her arms for him, her face glowing and her veins protruding. The two embraced bodies flounced. He told her in a stammer; "What's wrong with you? What do you want?
Her crimson lips replied, almost breaking down;
"I want your hand. You"
"Me. Me. But"
"Yes. You're mine, and you're my whole life".
He tried to wriggle away from her, but all his muscles and limbs revolted against him. He carried her in his arms, while she was staring at him and laughing, with kohl-lined eyes and cleft-teethed smiley mouth, fumbling with her thin fingers through the light hairs of his beard.
From behind lofty trees, there appeared a well-constructed palace teeming with welcoming servants and maids;
"Welcome, Sir. Come in. You're most welcome".
He entered carrying his 'booty' into one of the tidied rooms with one cozy bed. He brought her down gently and leaned towards her. She clasped her hands around his neck, and they merged together into the honey of love. Defloration was carried out, so he trembled with his feeling of the heavy burden of sin.
Suddenly, there gushed out from under the feet torrential fountains that seemed to have been expecting them for a long time and waiting for the decisive moment.
They hurried outside followed by the flowing waters. She stopped, but he ran alone as fast as he could, while she was watching his leaps and flops.
Rain poured down in abundance. As he arrived at the canal that had turned into a great sea, he remembered the Flood and Noah's ark, but there was no mountain to protect him from the water and no traces of an ark. He thought about Moses and his Stick, but who was he compared to Moses?
He kept on running away until he fell down into a deep well. He screamed reprimanding himself; "Where are you Prophet Josef, man of truth?"
He saw her standing above the broken well, laughing and leaning her head backward,. Her stormy hair covered her face, but she pushed it back clapping her hands together still chuckling. He thought about Satan and Adam being naked and covering himself with the leaves of paradise, amid the scorn of the chief of the gloating demons.
He got up from his sleep quite aghast. He kept resorting to God and begging for His help, while reciting Al-kursi verse. Then, the dawn Quran recitation started in the nearby mosque. So he stood up, washed and went to the mosque for prayer.
He pondered that night dream and the girl with whom he had had an intercourse. He realized that she was the village girl with the blessed morals and uncanny beauty.
Many people had solicited her hand, but all of them had been turned down without exception.
He remembered that he had stared at her for a long time the day before, and that she had smiled. But then, he had asked for God's forbearance, though her image had never left his eyes. He remembered that he was the only one who had not solicited her hand, even after his wife had died following a short time marriage due to a disease that had not lasted for long.
He wondered; "Why don't I get the honor of trying? Will she accept a widower?
He performed the Salat Al istikhara (guidance-seeking prayer), and was commended to ask for her hand.
He wore a new suit, had a spray of his perfume, and went out in a hurry pushed forward by his eagerness towards her parents' house in the farthest part of the town.
He was made to stop by some screaming and bewailing. He sought God's refuge from Satan; the cursed one. So, he rushed towards their source, only to find himself standing right in front of her house which was being demolished by fire, while people were cooperating to put out the blaze.
He pushed the burning door open, and found fire surrounding her from everywhere. He took off his suit and threw it over her to mute the flame. Then, he carried her in his arms sobbing.
Her burnt lips moved to mention his name and form a smile;
"You're too late. Let's meet, then, at the eternal paradise, near a Sovereign, perfect in ability"
Then, she breathed her last
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