یادم نرفته سارا دستان کوچکت بود در دست کوچک ما

حرفت همیشه سارا در ذهن ماندنی بود درست به کودکیمان شیرین و خواندنی بود بعد از تو بود اکرم تکلیف اینچنین بود شاید که عشق ما هم شیرینیش همین بود مردی می آمد از دورداسش به یاد یاران مردی به پشت اسبش آهسته زیر باران

گلدان عشق ژاله بی آب دیده افسرد دلهای سبز ما هم چون اشک ژاله افسرد

فریاد دشت برخاست زیر نوای چوپان ترس از دروغ آمد با او به زندگیمان

تصمیم داشت کبری دیگر کتاب خود را باران زده نبیند شاید به شوق فردا

فردا که آمد امروز پیوسته ماندنی نیست تصمیم خوب کبری امروز خواندنی نیست

شاید چنین توان گفت تصمیم داشت دریا باشد همیشه با ما شوید غبار غم را

کم کم بزرگتر شد سارا و حرف او هم دیگر نداشت چیزی از عشق و عاشقی کم

تقسیم عشق سارا بین تمام دنیا سهل است دیگر این کار صفر است حاصل اما

ای کاش درس سارا با یک انار می ماند ای کاش کودکی باز در دل ترانه می خواند

درد است در دل من اینجا و عشق آنجا گر فرصتی دهد دست گیرم سراغ سارا...

خدا رو شكر ميكنم كه ني ني عزيزمونو خدا بهمون برگردوند

به انتظار تو, تصویر تو, این دفتر خالی تا چند ؟ تا چند؟ ورق خواهد خورد...

یادش به خیر چقدر خوشحال بودم 

اما نی نی کوچولوی خوشگل ما رو بردن ICU

دعا کنین براش خیلی

 

فردا خاله میشم

آخ جون من فردا خاله میشم اونم خاله بزرگ چه حالی داره

اینم عکس نی نی مون البته وقتی خیلی کوچولو بود ایشالا چند روز دیگه ۱ عکس باحال ازش میذارم

شازده کوچولو قسمت 2

[Chapter 2] - The narrator crashes in the desert and makes the acquaintance of the little prince

So I lived my life alone, without anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago. Something was broken in my engine. And as I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone. It was a question of life or death for me: I had scarcely enough drinking water to last a week.

The first night, then, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation. I was more isolated than a shipwrecked sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Thus you can imagine my amazement, at sunrise, when I was awakened by an odd little voice. It said:

"If you please-- draw me a sheep!"

"What!"

"Draw me a sheep!"

I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me. And I saw a most extraordinary small person, who stood there examining me with great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him. But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model.

That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter's career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside.

Now I stared at this sudden apparition with my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment. Remember, I had crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited region. And yet my little man seemed neither to be straying uncertainly among the sands, nor to be fainting from fatigue or hunger or thirst or fear. Nothing about him gave any suggestion of a child lost in the middle of the desert, a thousand miles from any human habitation. When at last I was able to speak, I said to him:

"But-- what are you doing here?"

And in answer he repeated, very slowly, as if he were speaking of a matter of great consequence: "If you please-- draw me a sheep..."

When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain-pen. But then I remembered how my studies had been concentrated on geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar, and I told the little chap (a little crossly, too) that I did not know how to draw. He answered me:

"That doesn't matter. Draw me a sheep..."

But I had never drawn a sheep. So I drew for him one of the two pictures I had drawn so often. It was that of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow greet it with,

"No, no, no! I do not want an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is a very dangerous creature, and an elephant is very cumbersome. Where I live, everything is very small. What I need is a sheep. Draw me a sheep."

So then I made a drawing.

He looked at it carefully, and then he said:

"No. This sheep is already very sickly. Make me another."

So I made another drawing.

My friend smiled gently and indulgently.

"You see yourself," he said, "that this is not a sheep. This is a ram. It has horns."

So then I did my drawing over once more.

But it was rejected too, just like the others.

"This one is too old. I want a sheep that will live a long time."

By this time my patience was exhausted, because I was in a hurry to start taking my engine apart. So I tossed off this drawing.

And I threw out an explanation with it.

"This is only his box. The sheep you asked for is inside."

I was very surprised to see a light break over the face of my young judge:

"That is exactly the way I wanted it! Do you think that this sheep will have to have a great deal of grass?"

"Why?"

"Because where I live everything is very small..."

"There will surely be enough grass for him," I said. "It is a very small sheep that I have given you."

He bent his head over the drawing:

"Not so small that-- Look! He has gone to sleep..."

And that is how I made the acquaintance of the little prince.

یک روز يک نفر که هيچکس نبود .....

عاشق  کس ديگری شد که او هم هيچکس نبود

هيچکس اولی پنجره مسدود قلبش را گرفته بود رو به يک سياره نا شناخته

هيچکس دومی هر روز قلبش را ميگذاشت توی جيب چپ کتش و ميرفت تا شايد عاشق  شود...

دوستان عزيز لطفا قبل از خواندن مطالب صفحه تبليغاتي بالا را ببنديد چون چي؟.....اصلا خوشم نمياد.

متشكرم.

هیچ یادم نیست به جز دو چشم سیاه

دو چشم سیاه که مرا میبرد به کوچه باغ خاطره ها

هیچ یادم نیست به جز نگاهی سرمست که امیدم را گره میزد به طلوعی سرشار

هیچ یادم نیست به جز حریر ارغوانی یک لبخندکه میریخت جان به ساغر خسته روحی در بند

هیچ یادم نیست ولی چرا یادم هست همه چیز یادم هست جز منی که دیریست رفته ام از دست

شازده كوچولو

[Chapter 1] - We are introduced to the narrator, a pilot, and his ideas about grown-ups

Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.

In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion."

I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the jungle. And after some work with a colored pencil I succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing Number One. It looked like this:

I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked them whether the drawing frightened them.

But they answered: "Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?"

My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained. My Drawing Number Two looked like this:

The grown-ups' response, this time, was to advise me to lay aside my drawings of boa constrictors, whether from the inside or the outside, and devote myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic and grammar. That is why, at the age of six, I gave up what might have been a magnificent career as a painter. I had been disheartened by the failure of my Drawing Number One and my Drawing Number Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

So then I chose another profession, and learned to pilot airplanes. I have flown a little over all parts of the world; and it is true that geography has been very useful to me. At a glance I can distinguish China from Arizona. If one gets lost in the night, such knowledge is valuable.

In the course of this life I have had a great many encounters with a great many people who have been concerned with matters of consequence. I have lived a great deal among grown-ups. I have seen them intimately, close at hand. And that hasn't much improved my opinion of them.

Whenever I met one of them who seemed to me at all clear-sighted, I tried the experiment of showing him my Drawing Number One, which I have always kept. I would try to find out, so, if this was a person of true understanding. But, whoever it was, he, or she, would always say:

"That is a hat."

Then I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his level. I would talk to him about bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties. And the grown-up would be greatly pleased to have met such a sensible man.

 كسي اندوه مرا ديد

نه هيچكس

هيچكس برايم چشم هم تر نكرد

هيچكس يك روز هم با ما وفا نكرد

هيچكس اشكي برايم نريخت

هر كه با ما بود اما مي گريخت

Some people say...
"If you love somebody, you have to let that person go..."
They say, the more you try to grasp sand on your palm,
the sand will drop, but if you hold it loose, it will remain
longer...
My friends tell me to let you go,
But my heart doesn't let me listen to them..
To me, it's so difficult to let you go...
to imagine a life without you...
Tell me please... What should I do...?
I feel so afraid...
Afraid to wake in the morning to realize that,
you are just a fading memory...
and that you are not apart of my life anymore...
I hate this pain I feel in my heart,
you are the only person who can take it all away...
Please tell me, since I'm completely lost...
Tell me, how do I teach my heart
to live without you..?
To not love you...?
By loosing you, I have lost a part of me...
I've lost my best friend...
I feel like a whole part of me is missing, and
I feel so empty inside...
My heart tells me, that someday things will change...
Some day we'll be at least good friends...
So now I let you go, my love...
And, I'll wait... Until that day comes . . .

یک نفر , یک جایی تمام رویاهایش لبخند توست

و زمانی که به تو فکر می کنه

احساس می کنه که زندگی واقعا با ارزشه

پس هر وقت احساس تنهایی کردی

این حقیقت را به خاطر داشته باش

یک نفر, یک جایی در حال فکر کردن به توست.

Some moments, some places, some people
Lasts forever in the depths of hearts
Those moments become special
Because of the charming people who shared them
Those places become special
Because of the lovely people who were there
And you my dear friend is some one
Who made lots of moments and places like that
Remain deep inside my heart
And that’s why this day is very special
To me at least much as it is to you
As it is the day an angel came to earth
To be my friend and whom you are . . .

براي زيستن دو قلب لازم است

قلبي كه دوست بدارد

قلبي كه دوستش بدارند

قلبي كه هديه كند

قلبي كه بپذيرد

قلبي كه بگويد

قلبي كه جواب بگويد

قلبي براي من

قلبي براي انساني كه من مي خواهم

تا انسان را در كنار خود حس كنم.