Chapter 49 couple's voice

"Wake up, my dear, wake up, for my soul is calling you from across the sea; Silence: neither the galloping horses nor the footsteps of passersby are heard. The god of sleep holds men's souls in his arms. But I alone cannot sleep, because whenever I feel sleepy, my heart surges love has brought me to you whenever I brooded. Dear: I have got out of bed, for I am afraid of the visions of oblivion that hide under the covers. I have put the book aside, because My sighs have erased the lines from the pages and made them blank before me. Wake up: wake up, dear, listen to me..." "Ah, here I am, dear, I have heard your call from abroad; felt the fluttering of your wings, and I woke up and left my boudoir to this meadow. The night dew wets my two legs." My feet are also wet on my clothes. Here, dear: I am standing under the blossoming peach tree now, listening to the call of your heart.

"Speak, dear: let your breath come downwind to me from the valleys of Lebanon. Speak: I alone will hear. For darkness has driven all things into their lairs, and weariness has made the city Everyone in the room fell asleep soundly, and only I was awake alone. "Here, the sky weaves a veil with moonlight and puts it on Lebanon's body. Dear: "Here, the sky has woven a thick smock (with the breath of death and factory smoke in it) of the darkness of night over the city. My dear! "Here, in the hut among the peach and willow trees, the country sleeps soundly, and their hearts race to a beautiful dream. My dear.

"Here, the burden of money weighs down men's backs; the journey of greed makes their legs weak, and fatigue makes them sleepy. So they fall on the bed. But the shadow of fear and despair remains Torment their hearts, make them miserable. Dear ones. "Here, the phantoms of the ancestors walked in the valley, and the heroic spirits of the emperors and prophets hovered on the plateau. I couldn't help but look back to the stage of history, so I saw the great achievements of the Charades; I saw the Assyrians. The great prestige of the population; also saw the honor and wealth of the Arabs.

"Here, in the streets and alleys, the ghosts of thieves appear and disappear from time to time; from the cracks in the windows of every house, the poisonous snakes of selfish desire are peeking out; in the streets and alleys, you can smell the breath of disease and hear the panting of death. The memory is opened The veil of oblivion was broken, and I saw the evil of Sodom and the sin of Gomorrah again. "Dear: here, the branches are swaying, graceful, the wind is blowing the leaves, and the mountain stream is murmuring. I seem to hear Solomon's hymn, David's harp and Mussery's sing.

"Here, children in the slums are crying and crying; mothers are lying in bed, crying out in despair; the unemployed are often terrified to meet the succubi of poverty. So, what I hear are cries and sighs, which make people cry , is pathetic." "Here, the fragrance of narcissus and lily is fragrant, combined with the fragrance of frangipani and elderberry, and then it is mixed with the fragrance of cedar tree. I want to ride the wind.· "Here, Chatiao Hutong is a hotbed of germs, emitting a stench like invisible arrows, disgusting and poisoning the air. "Ah, my dear, the morning light has appeared here, and the waking fingers are caressing the eyelids of the sleepy. Zhaoliu tore apart the night and reflected the red sky. It has brought abundant vitality and vigorous vitality to the earth: sleep peacefully on both sides of the valley The northern part of the village has awakened. The first thing people hear is the church bell. The sound of the bell is announcing that the time for morning prayer has come. The bell echoes in thousands of valleys, as if the whole nature is Standing up and praying. The cows are out of the pen, and the sheep are out of the pen. They happily walk to the fields and grasslands. Behind, followed by a group of girls, who welcome the morning with the birds."

"Honey, here is also the rising sun, and the heavy hand of the day has stretched over the rows of houses. So the curtains of every house are closed, the doors are open, and people's sad faces are revealed. Those poor people are half-dead. Moving towards the factory, with shadows of desperation and fear on their faces, as if they were involuntarily driven to the battlefield to work for others. Here, the streets and alleys are full of traffic, and people greedy for profit are coming and going. You can hear it everywhere. The tinkling of irons, the sound of wheels and whistles. The whole city is like a battlefield where the weak prey on the strong and the rich. The rich take the fruits of the labor of the poor and the poor.

"Oh dear, how good life is here, like a poet's heart, full of light and warmth. "Oh dear, how cruel life is here! Like a criminal's heart, full of evil and horror."