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FICTION

Arabic Literature / Arabic Fiction

β€” FLASH FICTION

The Return of the Phoenix

by Nasser Alshaikhahmed

(Translated from Arabic)

In the village of Azzara, where dawn always rose an insufficient more golden than elsewhere, the people whispered of a fowl born from flame and prophecy. They had read about it on old monitors and heard songs echoing through stone, songs that spoke of a gigantic bird, whose wings caught the light of a thousand harvests.

They said that when the Phoenix listened to the whispers of love flowing through streamlets, the trees would lean in silence, shading its descent. One such morning, when clouds stretched like dreams across the sky, a child traced the shape of the bird in the air. The Phoenix followed the outline, soft and glowing, as if summoned by innocence alone.

That day, two women stood at opposite ends of the village. One carried a jar upon her head, filled with the clear water of the nearby spring. She looked up and smiled when the Phoenix passed overhead. The other, fierce and regal, carried wheat stalks that swayed like golden scepters in the wind. Even the breeze seemed to bow to her grace.

Bells rang without hands to strike them. The sea, watching from afar, curled its waves in delight. The Unitarians, clad in white and red, raced to the threshing grounds, laughter rising in chorus with the sky. Rain followedβ€”gentle, reverentβ€”as though making a pilgrimage to bless them.

But then, as years passed, the Phoenix was no later seen. Children no longer dreamed of firebirds in the clouds. The monitors fell silent. The elders wonderedβ€”had the gigantic bird been missed, or had it chosen not to return?

One evening, under the sliver of a crescent moon, a girl in the neighborhood awoke, heart pounding. She had dreamed of the Phoenix, not as a fowl, but as a lightβ€”a warmth returning home.

And so they wait again in Azzara. Wait for the day when the sky will glow a little brighter, and the wind will carry whispers of love. For when that day comes, the Phoenix will returnβ€”not from memory, but into it.

….

(Self-translation from ARABIC)

::::

In the village of Azzara, where dawn always rose an insufficient more golden than elsewhere, the people whispered of a fowl born from flame and prophecy. They had read about it on old monitors and heard songs echoing through stone, songs that spoke of a gigantic bird, whose wings caught the light of a thousand harvests.

They said that when the Phoenix listened to the whispers of love flowing through streamlets, the trees would lean in silence, shading its descent. One such morning, when clouds stretched like dreams across the sky, a child traced the shape of the bird in the air. The Phoenix followed the outline, soft and glowing, as if summoned by innocence alone.

That day, two women stood at opposite ends of the village. One carried a jar upon her head, filled with the clear water of the nearby spring. She looked up and smiled when the Phoenix passed overhead. The other, fierce and regal, carried wheat stalks that swayed like golden scepters in the wind. Even the breeze seemed to bow to her grace.

Bells rang without hands to strike them. The sea, watching from afar, curled its waves in delight. The Unitarians, clad in white and red, raced to the threshing grounds, laughter rising in chorus with the sky. Rain followedβ€”gentle, reverentβ€”as though making a pilgrimage to bless them.

But then, as years passed, the Phoenix was no later seen. Children no longer dreamed of firebirds in the clouds. The monitors fell silent. The elders wonderedβ€”had the gigantic bird been missed, or had it chosen not to return?

One evening, under the sliver of a crescent moon, a girl in the neighborhood awoke, heart pounding. She had dreamed of the Phoenix, not as a fowl, but as a lightβ€”a warmth returning home.

And so they wait again in Azzara. Wait for the day when the sky will glow a little brighter, and the wind will carry whispers of love. For when that day comes, the Phoenix will returnβ€”not from memory, but into it.

….

(Self-translation from ARABIC)

::::

Nasser Alshaikhahmed_Arabic Poet_Arabic Writer

Nasser Alshaikhahmed

A Saudi Arabian bilingual poet and short story writer, who writes in Arabic and English. He went to school at Sonoma State University in California, USA. Although his field of study is far from literature but his soul is immersed in poetry and writing. He is a vigorous member of: 1) All Poetry.com, 2) Soul Asylum Poetry Radio. New York (USA); Poetry Anthologies: 1) Voracious Polyglots-USA, 2) The Quilled ink SOUTH AFRICA, 3) Wheel song Poetry- UK; Online Magazines: 1) Polis Magazino- Greece, 2) ILA Magazine- USA, 3) β€œGrupo de trabajo de escritores "Juntos por las letras&quot” (Group Of Writers’ Working Together for Letters & Quotes”), ARGANTINA, 4) www.youtube.com/c/Uddan Television.

Nasser Alshaikhahmed has translated from English to Arabic several poetry work for poets from USA, Japan and Australia and published his translation in local journals. He has published one poetry book in Arabic β€œAra’fa” (in Arabic: العرافة) in 2013 (by Arabian House for Science and Publishing). He has won the second prize " Zheng Nian Cup" China Literally Award, 2023. He has also published one book of poetry in English. He was awarded by the L.A. Seneca International Academic Literary Award On 14.10.2023. He has also accolade from the Italian Academy of Philosophical Arts and Sciences, Bari- Italy.

___________

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