من نص قادم From a text forthcoming

لم يبق له، وقد غادر وجهه رواء الشباب وانسلّت من يديه قوة الأيام الخالية إلا عينان كأن الهرم أغفلهما فأقامتا على عهده القديم بهما من المَضاء، تراه إذا مررت في أي وقت من النهار بمقتعده الناتئ على عدوة من الرصيف يزجيهما يمنة وشمالا لا يتقفّى بهما السابلة لكنه يُتبعهما حياةً مبهمة تخفى مناويلها عن سواه فلا يعلم أحد هل الذاكرة مجالها أم الخيال أم مختلَطهما في رؤوس العجزة والمجانين، أو تراه مكبّا يعملهما في جريدة من التي يجود بها عليه صبي الحلاق القريب إذا ما انقضت منها حاجة صاحبه وزبائنه. فهو في هيئته الأولى حي يستوقف تهويمُه الأعين، وهو في الثانية صنم تجتازه الأبصار فيما تجتاز من جمادات. إذا دنوت منه فرغ اليك بوجهه و عينيه و أخلص لك تحيته و حديثه. يقول "لم يبق لي من هموم حياتي السابقة وأشواقها إلا شاغل النظر. به أرتفق في ما تبقّى: أنظر الأحياء متدرجين في مرتقى العمر يصطنعون المهمات والآراء والأماني، وأقرأ عن حزن امرأة بالغ الطبيب المجمّل في صقل أنفها. أليس في ذلك سلوى؟"

(من نص قادم)
أيمن جابلي

With his face deserted by the elixir of youth and his hands betrayed by the power of bygone days, nothing has remained to him besides except the eyes as if persumably overlooked by some pyramid so they had founded themselves on his old reign and kept some light. You couldn't fail when you come around at any time of the day to notice him in his projected seat from the pavement sitting while his eyes are rolling right and left but paying no heed to pedestrians as if followed by a mysterious life that hides its exiles, so no one knows whether memory is its domain or imagination or a mixture of both hidden in the heads of the old and the insane. Or you could notice his head down while his eyes are peeking into some newspaper offered to him by the barber boy when relegated by his boss and clients. And so he is in his incipient shape till intercepted by wandering eyes, and in his second one a talisman offered no shade of light no different from some objects. But when you approach him, you would see how his face and eyes are lit and so he would kindly offer the warmest of greetings and talks. He would say "there's nothing left to me from the worries of my backing life and its longings except the concern of the eye. With it, I help myself out to meet what is left. I look at how the living are gradually aging, devising tasks, visions and wishes. I also read about the grief of a lady whose doctor has gone too far in shaping her nose. Isn't that a consolation?"

(From a text forthcoming)
Ayman Jaballi

(Translated by Chokri Omri)