Blue eyes, black hair Marguerite Duras The texts of Marguerite Duras grapple with two dilemmas that subtly pull at each other: love and death, as in this beautiful text translated by my friend, Professor Kamel Owaid Al-Amiri, entitled (Nothing More). Of course, we are not here to discuss the issue of translation into Arabic from foreign languages, as this matter is similar to Schopenhauer's statement about history: that history is the historians, and the translated text is its translators. If the translator is more inclined towards the emotional or selects their vocabulary from the tangible, concrete, and realistic lexicon of words, we will find this prominent, as we perceive in *Nothing More*. However, if a rational translator is available, drawing their vocabulary from the critical and philosophical, or from logic that explains things, or translating the text inductively and far removed from the emotional, the delicate, and the tangible, then we will find before us a translation that tends to interpret or translate things on a calculated basis, to the extent permitted by reason and logic. Marguerite Duras's text, indeed most of her texts, rely on the duality of love/death and vice versa, as they form the poles of the narrative equation in all her texts (*The Garden*, *Moderato Cantabile*, *Hiroshima Mon Amour*, *Nothing More*) translated into Arabic. The characters "live within their own walls, dedicated to an impossible love," as Henry Hill put it. Perhaps the phrase "impossible love" is more in harmony with Duras's tangible, concrete, and emotional world, flowing in a torrent of words that, in some aspects, borders on the inescapable chatter of utterance. On it.