بريق لا ينام
January 18, 2026
|By Reham Hashem
بريق لا ينام
Acrylic • 30x40 cm • 2022
في مدينةٍ تعشق الضوء، عاشت امرأةٌ يشبه حضورها انبلاج الصباح بعد ليلٍ طويل. لم يكن جمالها مجرد ملامح تُفتن بها العيون، بل كان سحرًا خفيًا يجعل القلوب تلتفت قبل الأبصار. كلما مرّت، خفّت الضوضاء، وكأن العالم يمنحها لحظة إنصات. أحبّها الناس كما يُحبّ النور، لكنهم لم يسألوا يومًا عن ثقل الوهج على صاحبه. كانت تبتسم، فتُشعل الفرح في الآخرين، بينما تخفي في أعماقها حنينًا صامتًا، يشبه زهرةً تنمو في ظلّ شجرة عالية. وحين خفَتَ الضوء ذات مساء، أدركت المدينة أن الجمال الحقيقي لا يُقاس بما يُرى، بل بما يتركه من أثرٍ في الروح. أما هي، فقد مضت تاركةً خلفها بريقًا لا ينام، يذكّر الجميع أن أجمل الأشياء أكثرها هشاشة.
The Sleepless Sparkle
In a city that adored light, there lived a woman whose presence resembled the dawn after a long night. Her beauty was not merely in her features that captivated the eyes, but in a hidden charm that made hearts turn before eyes could. Every time she passed, the noise softened, as if the world granted her a moment of listening.
People loved her as one loves the light, yet they never asked about the weight of the glow on its bearer. She would smile, igniting joy in others, while quietly hiding a silent longing within her, like a flower growing in the shade of a tall tree.
when the light dimmed one evening, the city realized that true beauty is not measured by what is seen, but by the mark it leaves on the soul. As for her, she departed, leaving behind a sleepless sparkle, reminding everyone that the most beautiful things are often the most fragile.
In a city that adored light, there lived a woman whose presence resembled the dawn after a long night. Her beauty was not merely in her features that captivated the eyes, but in a hidden charm that made hearts turn before eyes could. Every time she passed, the noise softened, as if the world granted her a moment of listening.
People loved her as one loves the light, yet they never asked about the weight of the glow on its bearer. She would smile, igniting joy in others, while quietly hiding a silent longing within her, like a flower growing in the shade of a tall tree.
when the light dimmed one evening, the city realized that true beauty is not measured by what is seen, but by the mark it leaves on the soul. As for her, she departed, leaving behind a sleepless sparkle, reminding everyone that the most beautiful things are often the most fragile.