مقطر الورد | The Rose Distiller of Marrakech
"A rose water distiller discovers passion with a perfume chemist studying traditional essences."
مقطر الورد
The Rose Distiller of Marrakech
الفصل الأول | Chapter One
أُقَطِّرُ مَاءَ الوَرْدِ فِي وَادِي الوُرُودِ.
I distill rose water in the Valley of Roses.
مَوْسِمُ الحَصَادِ أَجْمَلُ وَقْتٍ.
Harvest season is the most beautiful time.
جَاءَتْ عَالِمَةُ عُطُورٍ مِنْ بَارِيسَ.
A perfume chemist came from Paris.
الفصل الثاني | Chapter Two
كَانَتْ فِي الخَمْسِينَ، أَنْفُهَا يَشَمُّ كُلَّ شَيْءٍ.
She was in her fifties, her nose smelled everything.
"رَائِحَةُ وُرُودِكُمْ فَرِيدَةٌ!"
"Your roses' scent is unique!"
"الجِبَالُ وَالشَّمْسُ يَصْنَعَانِهَا."
"Mountains and sun make it."
الفصل الثالث | Chapter Three
أَرَيْتُهَا عَمَلِيَّةَ التَّقْطِيرِ.
I showed her the distillation process.
"بَسِيطٌ... لَكِنَّهُ فَنٌّ!"
"Simple... but it's art!"
"الفَنُّ فِي الصَّبْرِ."
"The art is in patience."
الفصل الرابع | Chapter Four
"لِمَاذَا الوُرُودُ؟"
"Why roses?"
"لِأَنَّ الجَمَالَ يَسْتَحِقُّ الحِفْظَ."
"Because beauty deserves preservation."
"مِثْلُكَ؟" اِبْتَسَمَتْ.
"Like you?" She smiled.
الفصل الخامس | Chapter Five
"أَنَا؟ رَجُلٌ بَسِيطٌ."
"Me? A simple man."
"لَسْتَ بَسِيطًا... أَنْتَ عَمِيقٌ."
"You're not simple... you're deep."
"عَمِيقٌ كَقِدْرِ التَّقْطِيرِ؟" مَزَحْتُ.
"Deep like the distillation pot?" I joked.
الفصل السادس | Chapter Six
ضَحِكَتْ. "أَعْمَقُ."
She laughed. "Deeper."
"زَوْجَتِي كَانَتْ تَقُولُ ذَلِكَ... قَبْلَ أَنْ تَمُوتَ."
"My wife used to say that... before she died."
"آسِفَةٌ... كَمْ مَضَى؟"
"I'm sorry... how long ago?"
الفصل السابع | Chapter Seven
تِلْكَ اللَّيْلَةَ، بَيْنَ أَكْوَامِ الوَرْدِ.
That night, among piles of roses.
"رَائِحَتُكِ أَجْمَلُ مِنْ أَيِّ وَرْدَةٍ."
"Your scent is more beautiful than any rose."
"قَطِّرْنِي... اِحْفَظْنِي."
"Distill me... preserve me."
الفصل الثامن | Chapter Eight
صَنَعْنَا عِطْرًا مَعًا.
We made a perfume together.
عِلْمُهَا وَتَجْرِبَتِي.
Her science and my experience.
"عِطْرُ الحُبِّ... لَنَا فَقَطْ."
"The perfume of love... just for us."
الخاتمة | Conclusion
الوُرُودُ تَذْبُلُ.
Roses wilt.
لَكِنَّ مَاءَهَا يَبْقَى.
But their water remains.
وَحُبُّنَا جَوْهَرٌ لَا يَتَبَخَّرُ.
And our love is an essence that doesn't evaporate.
من حكايات مراكش From the Tales of Marrakech