Acasa

Poem by Terane Turan Rehimli

AM LISTENING TO HAUSER

To Stepan Hauser, proficient cellist from Croatia

Am listening to Hauser,
In memory ancient history, soil roads,
The flames in the fire,
From the centuries stretching for freedom
the chained arms ...

Am listening to Hauser,
In my dream Croatia –
Western Balkan stars,
In the waters of the Adriatic
fluttering my dreams
waterfall from the "Mysterious garden".
writing about the flow of life.

Am listening to Hauser,
Sad strings play of victory
Like the power of Branimir's sword,
the first owner of freedom.
His cello captures
all the boundaries
country by country, heart by heart.

Am listening to Hauser,
Mysterious sounds speak of a nation's
fate as speakes writing of “Başçan”.
The sound of swords, gun, bullets
Shakes and frightens the sky, the earth.

Am listening to Hauser,
Violancello…

Women

They born
They do not become

THey are the pillars of societies
Or tribus
THey are
They exist

Women,
Creators of rainbows
Of Angels
Of Gods

Women,
Show them respect
As you respect your mama
Your daughter
Your sister

Women,
We supposed to be all together
But the new societies
Makes us ennemies
Cheap
Without care
With sympathy
Without empathy

If women they could remember their purpose
The world it could be different.

Peace,

We pay with our lifes
Decision others they took

Because they are looking at their pockets
And not at the safety of the planet

Why a war is happening?
Always the same response
Nobody knows

Learn to talk
Learn to communicate
Learn to accept
Learn to respect

Peace

So rare in this planet
Since the…

Sushant Thapa (born on 26th February, 1993) is an award-winning Nepalese poet from Biratnagar-13, Nepal who holds an M.A. in English literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) New Delhi, India.

He has published seven books of English poetry, namely: The Poetic Burden and Other Poems (Authorspress, New Delhi, 2020), Abstraction and Other Poems (Impspired, UK, 2021), Minutes of Merit (Haoajan, Kolkata, 2021), Love’s Cradle (World Inkers Printing and Publishing, New York, USA and Senegal, Africa, 2023), Spontaneity: A New Name of Rhyme (Ambar Publication House, New Delhi, 2023), Chorus of Simplicity and Other New Poems (Ukiyoto Publishing, 2024) and Finding My Soul in Kathmandu (Ukiyoto Publishing, 2024). His short story collection entitled “The One Rupee Taker and Other Stories from Nepal” is also ready to be published. He works as a lecturer of English in Biratnagar, Nepal.

Keeping Me Awake

I trust the essence of the perfume.
Your rose is my morning,…

Jasna Gugić has published three collections of poems. The first two collections are bilingual: one is Croatian-English and the other is Croatian-Polish. The third collection consists of a single poem translated into sixty languages of the world. Jasna Gugić is one of the winners of the World Award for Cultural Excellence "César Vallejo" for the year 2020. in the category of culture, awarded by Union Hispanomundial de Escritores (UHE). She is one of the winners of the World Award for Excellence "Golden Eagle"; for the year 2023. in the category of literature, awarded by Union Hispanomundial de Escritores (UHE), in a global alliance with Mil Mentes por Mexico International (MMPMI) and Academia Mundial de Literatura, Historia, Arte y Cultura (AMLHAC) and Global Peace Alliance Award 2023. awarded by Union Hispanomundial de Escritores (UHE), MIL MENTES por Mexico Internacional, and Academia Mundial de Literatura, Historia, Arte y Cultura (AMLHAC).

GOOD MORNING

The morning…

POEZI NGA POETJA TETANE TURAN RAHIMLI 

AZERBAJXHAN

VJESHTË 

 Binte shi sërish, ishte një natë simpatike 

 Nuk kishte ecje, asnjë zhurmë në rrugë.

 Qyteti i çuditshëm, jashtë ishte aq i trishtuar, 

 Vjeshta më tha: vdis nga pikëllimi dhe vdes.

 Feneri i rrugës ul kokën

 re e bezdisshme në asfalt.

 Pikat po luajnë në pellg,

 Poezia fillon në piedestal.

 Pikat largohen një nga një në xhamin e dritares,

 Qyteti pa gjumë po fërkon sytë.

 Hëna e fshehur diku, hija e saj luante me ujë,

 Zemra ime poetike emocionohet, tani.

 Binte shi përsëri, ishte një natë simpatike,

 Nuk kishte ecje, asnjë zhurmë në rrugë.

 Qyteti aq i çuditshëm, jashtë ishte aq i trishtuar,

 Vjeshta më tha: vdis nga pikëllimi dhe vdes.

TI MË MË SIELL NË DET

Sërish mes nesh fryjnë erëra të ftohta,
Më solle sërish në det.
Fjalët na…

toamnă căzută pe gânduri.

toamnă cu urme de duminică

ascunse după ușă.

toamnă cenușie

cu alei de noroi,

cu lumină micșorată,

cu ploaie alergată pe geam,

cu nopți spălate până-n zori

și zile lipite cu frig.

toamnă, eu te iubesc cu mirosul tău ud de asfalt,

cu străzile pustii rătăcite la întâmplare

pe locul unde ești și tu refugiat.

iubirea coboară pe partitura udă;

adună timpul pe nimicuri întinse.

cuvintele scriu cu litere de apă

și aerul lacom compară canonul

cu secundele nedormite,

ca foile rupte dintr-un caiet.

/drept de autor/

și toată m-aș da ție

de n-ar fi ruptă căderea

de n-ar fi huma fidelă la facerea mea

rostirile căzute la subsol

suirile în note false

zugrăviri cu înfățișări străine

neliniști în schismă

euforia ridicată-n tavan respiră într-o uitare de sine

din grămada de curbe

de virgule

de puncte

așteptarea devine un cerc rostogolit

lăsând urma aceea superbă

de lumină-n amurg

deasupra orașului

plutind între silabe

totul devenind atât de aproape

ca niște amprente ce-mă ating

29.09.2024/drept de autor

Deodată

deodată singurătatea devine imensă

îmi topește ființa

la stânga

la dreapta

sus

 jos

se dezgolesc treptat cărări nepoftite

cărări amputate

străluciri negre îmi iau ochii

orizontul e înghițit de văzduh

melodia cântă singură pe alt ton

al unui alt timp

întoarcerile zâmbesc la capăt

neliniștea

neîncrederea devin normalitate

iubirea e cârpită cu vise

respir momente rostogolite pe degetul inelar

uneori era o contopire a cuvintelor

un înger alb

un înger negru apar făcând semne de retragere

spre capătul ce nu se află nicăieri

POEZI NGA TERANE TURAN RAHIMLI

AZERBAJXHAN

TI MË MË SIELL NË DET

Sërish mes nesh fryjnë erëra të ftohta,
Më solle sërish në det.
Fjalët na presin gjuhën,
Deti nuk na jep një shans më.

Fjalët tona rriten në rërë,
Deti po errësohet, ne ecim.
Deti na dëgjon dhe na flet.
Shpirtrat ia shitëm sërish detit.

Më ranë thinjat e bardhë në këmbë,
Deti lutem për ju.
Era fryn dhe dridhet në veshët e mi
Gjyshja mburrej: “Mos u fut shumë thellë”.

Unë mendoj se ju jeni si deti
Lëkura është një rrezik, unë gërvisht bregun.
Sa më thellë zhytem.
Unë e vlerësoj kur të gjej përsëri.

NËNAVE

Tek rruga ku i kishin tërhequr sytë
Mëmësia humbi.
Në portin ku mbërriti fëmija
Lëshon spirancën krenari e mëmësisë

Zemra e sajë është gjithmonë e trazuar,
Feniksi po digjet në një zjarr i vetëm.
Më shpinë mban foshnjën
Duke e menduar veten sa një…

TARANA TURAN RAHIMLI'S INTERVIEW WITH THE FAMOUS ALBANIAN POET, ESSAYIST, PROSE WRITER, JOURNALIST, TRANSLATOR ANGELA KOSTA

-  Hello dear Angela! You make a very important contribution to the development of world literature as a poet, essayist, journalist, translator... You are active in various fields of literature and culture. Which of these areas is closest to your soul, without which you can't imagine your life?

A. Kosta: Hello dear Tarana! I would say that they are all in my soul, right in the depths of my soul, of my existence because I think that one without the other cannot be there so I cannot share them, I could not. It is truly satisfactory and not only is it an enormous richness in the baggage and in the cultural and literary sphere, but it is what also enriches me within me, because when I translate, I find in the components not only the verses that the author verses but I find and know their beautiful soul, without clothes, I find them "naked", thus,…