Plática (שיחת-רעים)- Poem by Ramina Herrera / Translated into Hebrew language by Isaac Cohen

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poem by Ramina Herrera
 
 
Plática
 
Siente mis latidos
Comprende mis pensamientos
Ama mi oscuridad
Ama mi luz
Y regálame la calma
Que experimenta tu savia.
 
 
 
שיחת-רעים
 
תרגום מאנגלית: יצחק כהן
חוּשׁ אֶת הַלְמוּת לִבִּי
הָבֵן אֶת מַחְשְׁבוֹתַי
אֱהַב אֶת אֲפֵלָתִי
אֱהַב אֶת אוֹרִי
וְהַעֲנֵק לִי אֶת הַשַּׁלְוָה
אֲשֶׁר חוֹוֶה לְשַׁדְּךָ.
 
 
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Translated into Hebrew language by Isaac Cohen
 

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  Poezi nga Sinan Vaka

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poezi nga Sinan Vaka
 
 
LIRIKË PRANVERE
 
Pranvera gjithësine krejt në heshtje
me blertësi e ngjyra do mbulojë,
të tepërt do të falë buzëqeshjen ,
mbi lule dhe në shpirt kur te breroje .
 
Por s’di, por s’di , kjo ngjyrë e zefirit
që kaltërimen të hedh kolor mes syve,
më fut në jerm , kllapisë së të pirit,
a mos ky sens si sfinks na lodh të dyve ?
 
Mornicat marrin vrullin e pas heshtjes,
e ndjej gjithçka në turbullimin tënd,
paska një kohë që Ti ,ti falesh brejtjes,
prej shpirtit tim , që tëndin ëmbël çmend .
 
 
NJERIU
 
Halli i keq më ka pushtuar
Akrepi i kohës orën mban
O Zot me ty jam zemëruar
Kam shpirtin kthyer në kallkan.
 
” Ku je ” , prej ego – s ulëras
” Që me braktis çastin e keq “
Dhe…

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Poezi nga Myrteza Mara

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poezi nga Myrteza Mara
 
 
MIQ TË VJETËR
 
Këmbëkryq
        ulur dëshpërimi
                        mbi hijen time,
          herë e mbartë mbi shpinë,
                 herë më tërheq zvarrë.
 Siamez të ishim
             aq shumë s’do ngjanim!
 
Miq hallesh
         këmbejmë rrudha mendimi,
                     herë shtigjet i hap unë,
                                    herë dëshpërimi.
 
Eh,
          dhe në kohët e reja
          mbetëm miq të vjetër
                   dëshpërimi s’gjen dot si unë,
por dhe…

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The Pigeon Man

academyoftheheartandmind's avatarAcademy of the Heart And Mind

By Tim Law

They call me the pigeon man, and I guess they are not wrong. I left my family home back in the eighties when my wife suddenly died. I walked the streets of old London Town for a bit before I made a new home with others like me. We hung out around Trafalgar Square after dark, when the tourists left each day. We were attracted like magnets to the thought of protection and comradery, safety in numbers, you know how it is… Share and share alike, and a whole bunch of other clichés.

I would often walk past my spot during the day to keep an eye on it, do the rounds, waste some time. In between grabbing cups of coffee plus free internet at the Library and begging for a crust from Joe’s Bakery there is very little that can keep my mind active each day…

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The Pigeon Man

academyoftheheartandmind's avatarAcademy of the Heart And Mind

By Tim Law

They call me the pigeon man, and I guess they are not wrong. I left my family home back in the eighties when my wife suddenly died. I walked the streets of old London Town for a bit before I made a new home with others like me. We hung out around Trafalgar Square after dark, when the tourists left each day. We were attracted like magnets to the thought of protection and comradery, safety in numbers, you know how it is… Share and share alike, and a whole bunch of other clichés.

I would often walk past my spot during the day to keep an eye on it, do the rounds, waste some time. In between grabbing cups of coffee plus free internet at the Library and begging for a crust from Joe’s Bakery there is very little that can keep my mind active each day…

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HELLO / Poem by Stefano Capasso

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poem by Stefano Capasso
 
 
HELLO
 
If a sweet melody
of birds,
you stop, enchanted, to listen
beside a stream
 
or if a delicate gust
of wind,
with its mystery
gently touches you,
 
or better yet,
if from the rustle of the rain
you remain strongly fascinated
in its passage,
 
perhaps you seem to listen
DIFFERENT VOICES and without LOVE
even if you are in unfamiliar places?
 
Then I ask myself, with anguish,:
 
Where is the difference,
if Men Against, then
are they unleashed with deep hatred?
 
I’d like to take you by the hand
and shout loudly
at the top of the voice
a Great Universal Brotherhood
and immediately after, up there,
fly beside God the Lord,
just to everyone to show
the World
how much is really Special.
 
Only then
Drunk with Peace and Emotions
 
to crazy…

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  Mozaik / Valentina Novković

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Valentina Novković
 
 
Mozaik
 
Ne pisati o kapima slasti
iz prezrele smokve ravno je
skrnavljenju srcemolitve.
List loze i šuškavost opne lešnika
za dlanove tvoje čuvam što svemu izmiču.
Mi reka smo – talasa se odrekla
zarad sreće riblje u dubinama
bez udica.
Stopala tvoja pravac su za mora
neotkrivena svaki put kad
pomislim: kraja smo se domogli.
Vetar koracima tišinu uči
čudeći se kako kraljevske odežde
kraj srebrnih ukosnica zaboravlja.
Ne pisati o kapima znoja
na tvojoj nadlaktici, isto je što i
opovrgavati postojanje svetlosti
na telu svitaca.
Mozaik tvog osmeha
kad mi se rečju primakneš,
uvek me na segmente podseti.
One zbog kojih opstajem.
 

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THE MONTH OF MAY / Poem by Maria do Sameiro Barroso

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poem by Maria do Sameiro Barroso
 
 
THE MONTH OF MAY
 
May arrived punctually as if there were
an appointment between the mystic
of flowers and thunderstorms of silence,
bringing roses, linden flowers
and tasty red cherries.
The morning dew whispered the encounter
between time and me.
I was born on May 12,
the swallows were returning from the last migration
of warm atmospheres.
May has always been so happy and sad,
like an anniversary day.
When I was a child, May was the fantasy
of a little old chapel where novenas
echoed in the evening.
On the way, I stared at an old mansion,
rambling roses on walls covered by ivy,
moss and lilies.
The apple trees bloomed
and the peaches were ripe in my eyes.
In the little chapel, there were linen towels,
the martyrdom of S. Victor-o-Velho
was intertwined with the scent of roses,

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My Lamp of Grief / Poem by Lily Swarn

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 
Poem by Lily Swarn
 
 
Prompt-,Tagore’s song
“Aamaar shokol dukher prodeep”
The lamp of my sadness
 
My Lamp of Grief
 
It’s an old rusted lamp now
The lamp of my sadness
Bruised and battered
A few glasses missing
Soot choked and blackened
Sobbing darkness,defying light
This lamp wallows in kerosene grief
And waits for daylight to ease its pain
 
It was shiny brass once upon a time
Each tear drop showed up like a rainbow in the reflections
Of the mujra performing flame
Gyrating like ‘Rudaali ‘women weeping at funerals
Wailing in tune with poignant aches
Shadows formed in sinister patterns
 
Till one day the heartless ‘poorvai’,Easterly winds
Will knock it down ruthlessly
The pain will mingle with my kohl
Making patterns on my cheek
As it slides down my damask face
I told you the lamp of my sadness is rusted now

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Ewith Bahar – Rossetti’s “When I am Dead My Dearest”

agronsh's avatarATUNIS GALAXY POETRY

 

Ewith Bahar – Rossetti’s “When I am Dead My Dearest”

 

WHEN I’M DEAD MY DEAREST
 
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forge

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