Mad fox, bad fox, just another dead fox.
И еще на новогоднюю тематику... Попался мне на глаза прекрасный стих известного пакистанского поэта Фез Ахмад Феза (русскоязычный поиск не дает ни одной ссылки, позор нафиг! Фез был коммунистом и был женат на дочери владельца лондонского книжного магазина Алисе. Алиса прошла с ним весь кошмар отделения Пакистана от Индии и все трудности становления новой нации! Есть женщины в английских селеньях, че уж там говорить! 
Стих мне понравился, но сколько я не искала в сети, английского перевода не нашла. Уверена что оно где-то есть. Но так как один арабский друг попросил перевести, то я по быстрому набросла перевод смыслов.
Ae Nae Saal (Come, New Year) by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Come, New Year! But tell me what has changed?
Why are people making so much noise everywhere?
The daylight is the same and so is starry night
Everything i see is the same as before.
Netheir the sky nor the earth had changed
Change of one digit is hardly an innovation.
Next year again they will say happy new year
As if someone doesn't know your 12 months.
January, February and March will be cold
And April, May, June will be hot.
There will be losses and there will be gains
And once the time has passed the year will be done.
Can you show me new mornings or new evenings?
Otherwise these eyes saw plenty years like you.
Why people are congratulating each other so eagerly?
They forgot the painful memories already.
Your coming just means that we have one less year to be alive.
This poem of a different kind was written by Faiz.
ps читать дальше
Стих мне понравился, но сколько я не искала в сети, английского перевода не нашла. Уверена что оно где-то есть. Но так как один арабский друг попросил перевести, то я по быстрому набросла перевод смыслов.
Ae Nae Saal (Come, New Year) by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
Come, New Year! But tell me what has changed?
Why are people making so much noise everywhere?
The daylight is the same and so is starry night
Everything i see is the same as before.
Netheir the sky nor the earth had changed
Change of one digit is hardly an innovation.
Next year again they will say happy new year
As if someone doesn't know your 12 months.
January, February and March will be cold
And April, May, June will be hot.
There will be losses and there will be gains
And once the time has passed the year will be done.
Can you show me new mornings or new evenings?
Otherwise these eyes saw plenty years like you.
Why people are congratulating each other so eagerly?
They forgot the painful memories already.
Your coming just means that we have one less year to be alive.
This poem of a different kind was written by Faiz.
ps читать дальше
