Greek writer, poet and philosopher (1883-1957)
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General, the battle draws to a close and I make my report. This is where and how I fought. I fell wounded, lost heart, but did not desert. Though my teeth clattered from fear, I bound my forehead tightly with a red handkerchief to hide the blood, and ran to the assault. Before you shall pluck out the precious feathers of my jackdaw soul, one by one, until it remains a tiny clod of earth kneaded with blood, sweat, and tears. I shall relate my struggle to you — in order to unburden myself. I shall cast off virtue, shame, and truth — in order to unburden myself. My soul resembles your creation "Toledo in the Storm"; girded by yellow thunderbolts and oppressive black clouds, fighting a desperate, unbending battle against both light and darkness. You will see my soul, will weigh it between your lanceolate eyebrows, and will judge. Do you remember the grave Cretan saying, "Return where you have failed, leave where you have succeeded"? If I failed, I shall return to the assault though but a single hour of life remains to me. If I succeeded, I shall open the earth so that I may come and recline at your side.
Listen, therefore, to my report, general, and judge. Listen to my life, grandfather, and if I fought with you, if I fell wounded and allowed no one to learn of my suffering, if I never turned my back to the enemy: Give me your blessing!
No. I don't believe in anything. How many times must I tell you that? I don't believe in anything anyone; only in Zorba. Not because Zorba is better than the others; not at all, not a little bit! He's a brute like the rest! But I believe in Zorba because he's the only being I have in my power, the only one I know. All the rest are guts. All the rest are ghosts, I tell you. When I die, everything'll die. The whole Zorbatic world will go to the bottom!
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"أسير على حافة الهاوية و أرتجف. هناك صوتان في داخلي يتهدجان.
يقول العقل: "لماذا نتوه بحثا عن المستحيل؟ يجب أن نعترف بحدود الانسان داخل السور المقدس للحواس الخمس".
لكن صوتا آخر بداخلي و لنسمه الحاسة السادسة أو لنسمه القلب يقف معترضا و يصيح:
"لا، لا، لاتعترف أبدا بحدود الانسان! عليك أن تحطم الحدود! ان تنكر ما تراه عيناك! أن تموت و أنت تردد لا يوجد موت".
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أتابع العرض بمتعة و غرابة تفوق الوصف و لكنني لا أملك بساطة القروي لكي أصل الي يقين و أصعد على المسرح مشاركا في الكوميديا الدامية.
أنا الحاوي صانع المعجزات الذي يجلس ساكنا عند تقاطع طرق الحواس، يرى العالم يولد و يغيب، يرى الجوع تتحرك و تصيح في دروب اللا جدوى المتعددة الألوان."
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He dejado de acordarme de lo que ayer ocurrió y de preguntarme qué ocurrirá mañana. Lo que ocurre hoy, en el minuto presente, es lo que me interesa. Yo digo: ¿Qué haces Zorba en este momento? Duermo. ¡Pues, entonces, duérmete bien! ¿Qué haces en este momento, Zorba? Trabajo. ¡Pues entonces, trabaja bien! ¿Y ahora qué haces, Zorba? Estoy besando a una mujer. ¡Pues entonces, bésala bien, Zorba, olvídate de todo, que en el mundo sólo existís ella y tú, hala!