Katherine Mansfield Biography (1888 - 1923)

New Zealand's most famous writer, who was closely associated with D.H. Lawrence and something of a rival of Virginia Woolf. Mansfield's creative years were burdened with loneliness, illness, jealousy, alienation - all this reflected in her work with the bitter depiction of marital and family relationships of her middle-class characters. Her short stories are also notable for their use of stream of consciousness. Like the Russian writer Anton Chekhov, Mansfield depicted trivial events and subtle changes in human behavior.

"Henry was a great fellow for books. He did not read many nor did he possess above half a dozen. He looked at all in the Charing Cross Road during lunch-time and at any odd time in London; the quantity with which he was on nodding terms was amazing. By his clean neat handling of them and by his nice choice of phrase when discussing them with one or another bookseller you would have thought that he had taken his pap with a tome propped before his nurse's bosom. But you would have been wrong." (from 'Something Childish But Very Natural')

Short Story "Miss Brill" By Katherine Mansfield (Personal Review)

‘Miss Brill’ is a short story written by Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923) - Pseudonym of Kathleen Murry, where by her original name is Kathleen Mansfield Beauchamp. She was born in Wellington, New Zealand, into a middle-class colonial family. Her father, Harold Beauchamp, was a banker and her mother, Annie Burnell Dyer, was of genteel origins. She lived for six years in the rural village of Karori. Later on, Mansfield said "I imagine I was always writing. Twaddle it was, too. But, better far write twaddle or anything, anything, than nothing at all." At the age of nine, she had her first text published. Later on, she was well-known as the New Zealand's most famous writer and was closely associated with D.H. Lawrence and something of a rival of Virginia Woolf. Mansfield's creative years were burdened with loneliness, illness, jealousy and alienation. Therefore, what comes to my mind that all these have reflected in her work with the bitter depiction of marital and family relationships of her middle-class characters especially in this short story called ‘Miss Brill’.

Arabic Poem "Oblivion" By Ibrahim Naji

At last the cure, I bid farewell to pain,
and welcome with a smile the days to come.
Oblivion comes to me a kingly guest,
with hands compassionate and blessed steps.

My guest comes strongly on,
folding the distances, the dark unknown.
Proffering a cup that takes away
old pain, and banishes all regrets.
So drain it to the dregs and have no fear-
For long you have suffered, your thirst your only drink.
Oblivion now envelops me, and I
thank God for its overwhelming flood,
Surrendering to the waves which engulf me,
happy to embrace a void without memories.

Arabic Poem "The Burning Flute" By Ibrahim Naji

How many times my love
as the night covers the earth
I wander alone, and in the dark
no one complains but me.
I make the tears a tune
and I make the potery a flute
And would a wreck responds
that I inflamed in my ardent love.

Fire stirs in it
and the wind blows away the rest.
How miserable is the flute between
destiny and between fates
He sings and sadly sings
returning my complaints.
Sympathetic from our kept secrets
on the love of innermost secrets
Until a shadow appears.
I have known him in my youth
He comes close to me and he comes close
to the lips of my mouth
And suddenly my dream disapears
and my eyes wake up
And though I went listening and listening
I wasn't familiar but with the echo.

Arabic Poem "The Dream of Infatuation" By Ibrahim Naji

No love but Wherever held a place and I don't see
for me other than that a homeland and a location
My homeland all nights long is his home
As long and as far away he gets,my love is where he stays.
And when inhabited earth embrace us
its moments are populated daily.

No difference between her north and south
as they are bearing greeting to my heart
And they are pressing my knowledge and seldom
time preserves the custody of my heartbloods.
And if I cry, so I cry from the fear
That our infatuation is just a dream
And maybe the significance of our intention.So I cried out
from before we shed the tears from our distance.

Arabic Poem "Farewell" By Ibrahim Naji

Leave me, my love, it's time to part
this paradise is not my portion.
I had to cross a bridge of flame whenever
I visited this land of bliss.
Yet I've been your life-long companion
since earliest youth and your tender years.
But now I come like a transient guest,
and go away like a bird of passage.


Has anyone drunken with love like us,
seen love like we have seen it ?
We built a thousand castles on our way,
Walked together on a moon-drenched road,
Where joy danced and leapt before us,
we gazed at the stars that fell, and we possessed them.
And we laughed like two children together,
ran and raced with our own shadows.
After this nectar's sweetness we awoke -
how I wished it had never been so !
Night's dreams had vanished, the night was ended
the night that used to be our friend.
The light of morning was an ominous herald ;
dawn loomed up like a wall of fire.