Toate postarile (1376)

Sortat dupa

PROSTO, NE IDE de Svjetlana Budimir

PROSTO, NE IDE
12304487677?profile=RESIZE_400x
 
Postoje i one pesme koje su mrzovoljne,
u koje ne bi da udomiš nijedan stih,
katkad ni slovo,
prosto ne ide,
jer u njima je sve već rečeno
i kada su prazne,
jer u njima,
između redova nemih,
dišu sve dobrote lažne,
uzdišu oni koji te prevariti ne uspeše,
žive pogledi od kojih ni trava ne raste.
U njima su utkani,
sve onako na neobojeno,
i tačka, i zarez, i upitnici sa tri tačke,
i onaj kobni uzvičnik,
koji sam udenula na sami početak, neodložno,
jer mrzovoljne pesme nisu moj fah,
a ni ja njihov.
Hitam u one
koje pišem i kad mi duša spava,
zbog dvotačke iza koje se nižu izvori bistri,
od čijih slapova, neminovno,
postajemo bolji, nikada isti.
 
Citeste mai mult...
ВСЕ ПОКУПАЕТСЯ И ПРОДАЁТСЯ
 
12304231496?profile=RESIZE_400x
 
Всё покупается и продаётся,
И жизнь откровенно над нами смеётся.
Мы негодуем, мы возмущаемся,
Но продаёмся и покупаемся.
Омар Хайям
 
Всё покупается и продаётся,
Издавна жизнь так ведётся.
Мы не смущаемся, не возмущаемся,
Продаёмся и покупаемся.
 
Всё продаётся и покупается,
И совесть, и честь.
Каждый стоит столько,
Сколько стоит продавец.
 
Всё продаётся и покупается,
За гроши любовь и дружба.
По натуре продажная душа,
Порой предаёт самого себя.
 
Всё покупается и продаётся,
За славу, за успех и за уют,
Без смущения, без возмущения,
Люди всё продают.
 
Всё покупается и продаётся,
Сатана над нами смеётся.
Ради блага, ради Эго,
Отрекаемся от своей веры, религии и...Бога.
 
Всё продается и покупается,
Без чести, без совести и без веры,
Будто в счастье купаемся.
Когда наша время кончается,
Молимся Богу, каемся.
 
Citeste mai mult...
Lijepa Nerma Ali bega
12300373296?profile=RESIZE_400x
 
Ljepota,je tvoja Nerma.
Od dragog Allaha.
Sokakom dok prolaziš.
Razlog si uzdaha.
 
Dok s' pendzera,pogleduješ.
Bardakom u ruci.
Svak se tebi divi Nerma.
Stavljaš ih na muci.
 
Oči su ti ko fildzani.
Kosa kao svila.
Za koga si se lijepa Nerma ,
Aman,ti rodila?
 
Ja sam kćerka,Ali bega.
I nek,svako znade.
Biću onog ,za koga me,
moj babo beg dade.
Citeste mai mult...

Poems by Nazakat Mammadova

Motherland, don’t forgive us!

Your Qarabagh is trampled by the enemies,
Your forests are the nests of Steppenwolf
We are always reprobated by strangers-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The happy days are left behind in the past,
Why didn’t stones fall when moving began?
As if we have been migrants for years-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The flowers decorated the mountains,
When nobody walked on it, it fell out.
Oh, my God, the native lands are captive-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The native lands are invaded by enemies,
For me both agha and slave are the same.
How long is from Khan Araz till Tabriz?-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

I am touchy remembering “Cidir duzu”
I shed tears calling my native “Shusha”.
I wept, cried for Khari Bulbul in enemy’s hands-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The lands were ruined by the enemies,
All the lands fell to the lot of the godless.
Dada Qorgud, how can you sleep in the grave?-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The parting with lands tastes bitterly,
If there are brave sons, but where are they?
Your daughters, daughters-in-law are captives-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

If only the lands are got back forever,
If only the happy days returned once more.
The whole world listens to your voice-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

The martyrs’ blood wouldn’t be forgotten,
The invaded lands will be remembered.
We shall take vengeance for the lost lands,
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

Hey, he who can suppress my anger, come,
Hey, he who can sacrifice himself as Babak, come!
Hey, he who can enter the fights as Koroghlu, come-
Motherland, don’t forgive us!

If only our voices are heard in Irevan,
If only our banners are proud in Qarabagh!
If only I ran straightly to those lands,
If my eyes kissed the lands of my country-
If my feet touch the soil of my Motherland!


The martyr top

The screams may reach to the sky,
Mother is singing a cradle song to a grave.
She embraces the cold grave every day,
As if she is at the cradle of her baby-
She is singing a cradle song to gravestone.

She looks for her son among the young boys,
The tears of longing drop out of her eyes.
Her heart is full of words- whom to tell?
She tells her words to the gravestone-
Mother smoothes her son’s gravestone.

Each day she tells him her new wish:
“My son, but you didn’t marry…
But I didn’t decorate khoncha for you.
But I didn’t spread henna to my daughter-in-law.”
Mother complains to the gravestone.

Mother begs to the sky, for to take her too,
She wishes to tell her words to the great God.
The voice is heard from the sky:
“Mother, your son is gifted with martyr top.”
Mother sings a cradle song to her son.

This is the sound of the martyr’s mother,
This is the sound of her sorrow.
Mother calms herself, she consoles
With her son’s being a martyr
Which is considered the highest at God.

The longing for lands

My heart is breaking under my chest,
If only we should value it in its time.
If only I became a wind, a mad wind,
If my words blew over my lands as wind.

The black rocks were like mountain fortress,
The mountains are the invincible fortress.
The pocked rocks are like the native sons,
My traces will be left on my native lands.

Tabriz, Derbend were once our lands,
The Goyche are ruined by the enemies.
The strangers invaded the city of Shusha,
Because of not casting glance on my lands.

The grief is like the sorrow of hearts,
This is also a destiny, this is a fate.
For many times my motherland was divided,
I am disgraceful at my motherland

If only I sacrificed my life for my motherland,
If only I knew all the secrets of my motherland,
If only I were a stone to enemies of my motherland.
If only I sacrificed for my motherland!


I long for…

When autumn comes the cranes move,
Their “homes”- nests remain empty.
They come back as soon as spring comes,
Again their “strange” nests become dear to them.

See, how many autumns, how many springs,
I long for my lands the fire of which is gone.
The cranes return back, but I can’t return,
To my native lands destiny of which is unlucky.

On one of the days I also shall return to my lands,
My heart whispers me, it won’t last so long.
If it is needed I shall sacrifice my life to death.
I say to the world: “No, it won’t last so.”

I am longing for my native lands,
I shall get over all the borders.
Of course, once I shall get over
The iron wires which define borders,
I shall get over those wires.

 

Citeste mai mult...
IL MIO SOLE D'AUTUNNO
 
12296581659?profile=RESIZE_400x
 
A volte,
vorrei che il tempo tornasse indietro,
a quando ancora,
il cielo era azzurro.
A quando il mondo,
aveva i colori dell'arcobaleno,
e non quelli della nebbia.
Vorrei che il tempo si fosse fermato,
a quando ancora i miei occhi sognavano.
Ma si...
a volte vorrei...
poi mi vieni in mente tu,
e mi ritorna il sorriso.
Il mio sole d'autunno.
Citeste mai mult...

Article by Sergio Camellini:

THE FANTASTIC LOVE  WORLD OF TARANA TURAN RAHIMLI'S  POETRY 

 

The author Tarana Turan Rahimili, a well-known Azerbaijani poet, shows how poetry has a universal semantic language. The masterful translation from English to Italian by the brilliant Claudia Piccinno gives significant confirmation in this sense. Well, the anthology: "I loved even a stone" (Edizioni Il Cuscino di Stelle), wanders into the fantastic world of love, with its many facets, even with autobiographical hints. The work begins with the poem: "They will recognize me by my love", which is a significant incipit to enter the original world of Tarana. Why original? Because there is everything and the opposite of everything about love: truth, lies, crudeness, sweetness, perplexity, anguish, happiness, pain, religiosity, life, death, contradictions. Often the Poet uses the title of the poem and also inserts it at the end, therefore, the repetition of the title itself emphasizes the main theme of the composition, in a sort of Freudian subliminal message. In the poem “Life is a Fast Train,” she mentions the good Lord as she does in several of her compositions: // My God, what is happening to me? Who makes me gasp? Who rushes life? Who is hurrying inside me? //. Therefore, in this lyric, her being seems to hang on four questions, free from the word love which, however, can be read between the lines, where current events quickly become yesterday. The closed, is a poetic hymn: // Today suddenly becomes yesterday, I'm going to embrace the next day. I don't live my life, I just fly through it //. In the poem “Good morning, Rome!”, a sweet melancholy for the Eternal City, including the Vatican, is highlighted. // Your sun smiles on me in the middle of winter…Old, great Vatican! Let there always be a happy life around you. Hey, stage of the Theater of Marcellus! May you always be lost in silence! Stay away from the “games” of the world stage; enchants my spirit. Of your immortal fame. Good morning, Rome! Good morning, Rome! “. The exclamation point, which the Poet uses, is an "admiring point", to signal a tone of surprise and joy. In the poem "I am a woman", female psychology is traced with a wise hand and fine skill, making a nice contradiction: "I am not a painter, I am not a composer, not even a gardener... but I know many colors that most artists does not know: The colors of love, of desire, of pain...

With the work “I fall on the road where you moved away from my gaze”: // You didn't recognize me, because I was a small tree, they cut me down prematurely, I didn't have any shadow...I am covered by the pain of my future. I fall on the road where you moved away from my gaze. I will look for you there //. Despite everything, the author who symbolically identifies with the character mentioned, is confident in the future. So, it is an anthology in which the balance coexists between an introspective reading and reflection, or rather, a journey through the sensations and emotions of an extremely sensitive poetic soul, but at the same time firm and decisive. The verses unfold between feelings, places and memories, weaving a varied interweaving between the word love and the hardness of the stone. In conclusion, the elegant poetic self of Tarana Turan Rahimili appears in every verse of her, confirming the natural beauty that belongs to her.

Sergio Camellini

Translated into English by: Claudia Piccinno

Citeste mai mult...
Tražeći sebe
12290496069?profile=RESIZE_400x
Drhtaj tijela ta čudna stvarnost
Jednom se priča da znaš pravac
Uzima danak al štetu ne znaš
Živjeći tudji al u svoj mamac
 
Čiji je život sjenka u noći
Zacrtan dan molitve časne
Ulicom pustom prepunom duša
Namjerom pakla da srce z'gasne
 
Dok umorno ulica u bolu plače
Vrijeme se uvijek u sad sprema
Hitanja duga traganje za nejač
Ostaje vjecna i zapisana tema
 
Neumorno zlobnik pohari hrli
Preskače prozor kraj vrata pakla
Čivija ključem traži katanac
Prolaz nije gdje ima stakla
Citeste mai mult...

LĂSAȚI POETUL SĂ TRĂIASCĂ! 

  AUTOR MIHAELA CD 

 

Lăsați poetul să trăiască 

Căci clipa dulce pământească 

Îi este scrisă-ntr-un destin 

Din har celest în cor festin. 

 

Lăsați poetul să trăiască,

Că-i fi-va pană îngerească,

Condusă pe-un zeiesc altar 

De unic dumnezeiesc har.

 

Lăsați poetul să trăiască, 

Din slova dulce românească,

Ce-i sorb amarul și clipa 

Spre veșnicii-i duc aripa.

 

Lăsați poetul să trăiască

Atâta vrea să povestească,

Să scrie despre iubire,

Pentr-un strop de fericire!

 

 

Citeste mai mult...

Rapsodia iubirii  AUTOR: MIHAELA CD 

Rapsodia iubirii 

AUTOR: MIHAELA CD 

 

Cântecul iubirii se mai scrie

Tot continuând ca la-nceput 

Slove-ndrăgostite pe-o hârtie 

Note pe-un portativ ne-ncăput

 

Si doina trăirilor transcede  

Prin pâcla timpului arămiu 

Și-o arie de amor purcede 

Pe cerul dragostei prea târziu  

 

Și-n ritmul de suflet se așează

O melodie legănată-n doi

Dansând pe-a vremurilor spetează

Sublim refren ce lin cade-n ploi

 

În simfonii ce-adună fericiri

De-nveselire se-nfioară

Ea,rapsodia-aceleiași iubiri

Pe-aripi de timp valsând ușoară 

 

Citeste mai mult...

Dansul timpului de MIHAELA CD

Dansul timpului 

Autor MIHAELA CD

 

Clipele rad zburdand alene 

Peste tărâmuri ce-s de vis            

Trezind dormiri din altă vreme    

Prin labirinturi spre abis             

 

Dezgheață simțurile toate 

În marșul lor trosnind domol 

Versete se aud trunchiate  

Pe partituri zâmbind bemol 

 

De-atâta dor se-ngemănează

Cu timpul trist și diafan

Se-nlănțuie și-apoi vibrează

Căci văd c-a  mai trecut un an.

 

Citeste mai mult...

VENTI DI GUERRA de Lilly De Siati, Italia

VENTI DI GUERRA
12285838868?profile=RESIZE_400x
Il vento dove porta
il pianto dei bambini
violentati, torturati,
il vento dove porta il fumo
delle case bruciate
tra cumuli di macerie,
il vento dove porta
le urla inorridite di
famiglie intere che fuggono
in cerca di salvezza,
il vento dove porta
le preghiere dei giusti
della terra che invocano
la pace tra i popoli?
Impropriamente usano
e fanno abuso del mio nome:
"Venti di guerra dicono".
Il vento è un elemento
naturale sulla terra,
la guerra fratricida viene
dal cuore nero dell'uomo
ed ha il suo volto distruttivo
nella violenza disumana.
Il vento impetuoso disperde
nell' aria grigia, tetra
pianto, grida, dolore
e si allontana velocemente
perchè non può portare
via con se, l' orrennda guerra
che incombe sul mondo.
Citeste mai mult...

12285831267?profile=RESIZE_400x

Parlerei di più
chi ha spento il sole
e perché cadono le foglie ,
L'ho raccolto uno ad uno , mi somigliavano come un cristallo rotto .
 
Mentre continuavano a fuggire ,
Ho camminato come nel mare turbolento ,
camminare a piedi nudi sulle onde ,
per vedere come lacrimavano gli occhi della Luna .
 
..come erano belle le foglie ,
sulle panchine abbandonate dall'inverno !
Nessuno poi spendere il Sole !!
Il mio cuore ha le dimensioni di un pugno chiuso .
 
(..nel mio prossimo , nuovo , libro ) .
 
..amo sto poesia !
Citeste mai mult...
PODGORICO GRADE SRCU MIO
12285735080?profile=RESIZE_400x
Podgorico nekad grade stari
Gradiše te vrijedni neimari
Stobom živim čuvam uspomene
Ljubim tvoje kamenje i stijenje
 
Ljepotice od svih si najljepša
I od sunca pogleda i raja
Mostovi Skaline Varoš stara
Gdje Ribnica Moračom se spaja
 
Podgorico grade srcu mio
Mojoj duši ti si svijet cio
O Moračo biserni ti vali
Tu smo nekad mi ašikovali
Citeste mai mult...

Poezie de Lili Koci, Croatia

12283732099?profile=RESIZE_400x

 

Tren

U tom trenu,

kad pogledom pomilovah njegove ruke

I trnci se sjuriše niz kičmu

Cijelo tijelo potrese mi glad.

Pokajah se sto spustih pogled

Na lijepe, duge prste

Što dobovale su po stolu

I vidjeh kako mu na zapešću

ispupčena vena pulsira

sustižući ritam moga srca.

Zadržah pogled na njegovim trepavicama

I pomislih

kako bi bilo lijepo

Osjetiti ih ujutro

na svom obrazu.

 
Citeste mai mult...

SE BUSCA BRUJA... de Dimarys Aguila, Cuba

SE BUSCA BRUJA...

12282218877?profile=RESIZE_400x

✨️Una mujer que haya vivido de todo menos un cuento de hadas. Se busca una loca llena de dudas y ganas de vivir, un poco cruel, caprichosa y transparente.
🖤Una mujer ninfómana para ser su cura, pecadora, con espíritu libre y alma joven, de mente abierta, sonrisa escandalosa y con la edad suficiente para amar.
✨️Una mujer, una amante, una dama creativa y atrevida; una amiga, una cómplice apasionada que salga junto con la luna, al caer la noche, que me haga sentir y vivir, incontenible e intuitiva, que sepa donde pisa, a dónde va y lo que quiere. Una mujer que me queme las entrañas, que haga que la odie y la ame al mismo tiempo.
🖤Una mujer salvaje, de esas que convierten su rabia en un fuego lento y mortal, que arda pero que al más mínimo roce de mis labios vuelva a ser mía y sonría; que tenga un lunar cerca de sus pechos y que me deje morder suavemente sus costillas y sus piernas.
✨️Una mujer extraordinaria de esas que canta y baila sin importar el lugar, un poco distraída y que no se rinda, una engreída con buen corazón.
🖤Se busca bruja rebelde, libre y loca porque ya me cansé de princesas sumisas, delicadas y aburridas...
Circula en redes.
Desconozco al autor.
Créditos a quien corresponda.
 
 
 
 
 
Citeste mai mult...
Rezultatele Campionatului European de Poezie
Ediția a- V- a, Iași, România 2023
 
12269540283?profile=RESIZE_400x
Loredana Zeller - Campioană Europeană de Poezie
Dan Cioată - Vicecampion European de Poezie
Ioana Ilieși - Locul III
 
MENȚIUNI
 
Viriginia Buzdrug
Corina Ligia Pătrașcu
Mioara Baciu
Mihai Bărbulescu
Camelia Boldu
Georgeta Prodan
Leliana Mihaela Rădulescu
Anda Petrache
Veronica Simionica – Hasnaș
 
PREMII SPECIALE
 
Mircea Marcel Petcu – Premiul Lyric International Library
Viorica Țigănescu – Premiul Revistei Grai românesc
Gina Munteanu – Premiul Fii Tu România
Violeta Bobocea – Premiul Olympiques Mondiaux de Poesie
Angela Dumbravă – Premiul World Literary Union
Cristina Serghiescu – Premiul Editurii Liric Graph
Valeriu Cîmpeanu – Premiul Radio Grai Românesc
Florentina Cuteanu – Premiul Poetry
Ștefan Dima – Premiul România Culturală
Zinaida Ambroci – Premiul Kibatek România
Georgeta Giurea – Premiul World Union of poets Romania
Veronica Bumbu – Premiul World Poets Association
Alla Tonu – Premiul Arhiva Literară
Angela Cârcel – Premiul Fiii Brăilei
Souca Maria Adriana – Premiul World poets and their poetry
Nina Lavric – Premiul Naționala de Poezie
 
PREMII SPECIALE ale ASOCIAȚIEI POEȚILOR MONDIALI
 
Fiodor Druță – Premiul Alexandru Ioan Cuza
Doina Sandu – Premiul Fănuș Neagu
Ana Ghiaur – Premiul Dumitru Dănăilă
Georgeta Blendea Zamfir – Premiul Ion Creangă
Gheorghe Apetroae – Premiul Mihai Eminescu
Marcela Dorina Șerban – Premiul Junimea
Victor Defta – Premiul Grigore Vieru
Ioan Avram – Premiul Vasile Alecsandri
Victor Manole – Premiul – Premiul Arcadie Suceveanu
Maricica Mimi Rotariu – Premiul Iulia Palit
Constantin Sandu Gabriel – Premiul Nicolae Dabija
Pica Boștină – Premiul Ioan Slavici
Ella Bălescu – Premiul Marin Ifrim
Maria Magdalena Giurea – Premiul Anca Maria David
Theodora Cristina Jirlăianu – Premiul Adrian Păunescu
Maria Negoiță – Premiul Mihai Cimpoi
 
DIPLOME de MERIT
 
Arpad Toth
Maria Sângerean Sibioara
Claudia Băluță
Eugenia Spătaru
Ioan Sima Delagales
Valentin Vâlceleanu Catana
Ecaterina Rolea
Sofia Codin
DIPLOME de EXCELENȚĂ în LITERATURĂ
Eliza Anna Segiet
Mihaela Ciatloș Deak
Neda Dukarić
Sorina Vîiu
Ion Pîcălău
Ludmila Sochircă
Ana Opran
Corina Paralescu
Alexandrina Iurcu Bălan
Georgeta Blendea Zamfir
Emina Emina Škahić
George Teodor Dincă
Laura Kore
Victor Burde
Oana Alexandra Călin
Lucia Moroianu
Marian Bobocea
Luminița Cruceru
Cornelia Nicolas
 
PREMII ONORIFICE pentru MEMBRII JURIULUI
 
Constantin Anton
Milica Paulus
John Karajoli
Nermina Adžović Mustagrudić
Ekkehard Walter
 
FESTIVITATEA de PREMIERE a Campionatului European de Poezie va avea loc în data de 2 decembrie începând cu orele 14,30 în incinta hotelului Moldova din Municipiul Iași, Strada Anastasie Panu nr. 31.
Rezervările camerelor vor fi făcute de fiecare autor în parte ( cât mai rapid posibil !!! deoarece evenimentul are loc în preajma zilei naționale a României și vor fi multe solicitări la rezervări )
Numărul de telefon la care se poate rezerva: 0232 260 336 de luni până vineri, între orele 8-16 sau pe adresa de e-mail:rezervari.iasi@unita-turism.ro
Neapărat cu mențiunea ,, Pentru evenimentul literar !)
Confirmați participarea la adresa de e-mail:edituraliricgraph@gmail.com
Tot în cadrul Festivalului va avea loc și lansarea Antologiei Stihuri carpatine !
 
Vă așteptăm cu drag !
Citeste mai mult...

 

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলির কবিতা

চিঠি যদি লিখলেই

তুমি চিঠি লিখেছিলে,
গন্ধহীন, প্রাণহীন
একটি পঙক্তিতেও
হৃদয়ের শব্দ নেই

তুমি চিঠি লিখেছিলে
শীতল রক্তের লেখা
উষ্ণ তবে অর্থহীন
কী করে পাঠালে এটি?

তুমি চিঠি লিখেছিলে
নিরাবেগ অনুভব
মন বড়ই অস্থির
রাত গেলো অনিদ্রায়

তুমি চিঠি লিখেছিলে
অন্ধ যেমন লাঠিতে
মাটি ছুঁয়ে ছুঁয়ে চলে
খোদক যেমন লেখে
সমাধিফলকে...

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলি

অনুবাদ : অনীত রায় ১৪ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৩

 

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলির কবিতা

 

স্বপ্ন মরে না

 

প্রতিটি মানুষ তার হৃদয়ের মাঝে স্বপ্ন নিয়ে মরে

মাটিতে বিলীন হয় এমনই কত অনিঃশেষ স্বপ্ন

গভীর অতল থেকে বাইরে বেরিয়ে আসে ইচ্ছেগুলো

এভাবেই ফুলগুলো পৃথিবীর বুকে মুখ তুলে চায়.

 

জীবনের যত সব স্বপ্নের পিছনে তারা ছুটে চলে

মানুষেরা থেমে যায় স্বপ্ন দ্যাখবার শুরুর থেকেই

সকল মানুষ চলে তার আপনার বাগানের দিকে

আশাদের কখনও কোনো রকমের শোকতাপ নেই.

 

সব আশা ফুল হয় আর এসে নেয় জীবনের রূপ

এসেই নতুন কোন হৃদয়ের মাঝে স্থান করে নেয়

প্রতিটি ফুলের ঘ্রাণ একটির থেকে অন্যটির ভিন্ন

জীবনযাপন স্বাদ লুকিয়ে রয়েছে অন্তরের মাঝে.

 

এ মাটির স্মৃতি থেকে সামান্য কিছুও বেরোতে পারে না

অবদমিত ইচ্ছেকে যে করেই হোক পাবার আকাঙ্ক্ষা

জীবনের ফুটে ওঠা ফুলের মতন

জীবনের প্রাণবান ইচ্ছের মতন...

 

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলি

 

অনুবাদ : অনীত রায় ১০ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৩

 

ছবি : তেরনে তুরান রহিমলি

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলি-র দেয়াল থেকে নেয়া

জীবন - শূন্যতা থেকে, শূন্যতার থেকে

এসেছে অস্তিতে.

মৃত্যু জীবনের সার কথা

শেষ মুহূর্তের উপলব্ধি.

 

জীবন - কোথায় যায়

এটুকু জেনেছো, ওটা হ'লো যাবার সময়.

পথ ভ'রে ছিলো শুভেচ্ছায়

বড় হৃদয়বিদারি.

 

প্রেম - হৃদয়ের বেড়া থেকে

বন্ধ হৃদয়ের ওপর গড়ায়

জন্মদিন - আরো এক পদক্ষেপ

মৃত্যুর দ্বারের কাছাকাছি.

 

তেরনে তুরান রহিমলি

অনুবাদ : অনীত রায় ১৪ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৩6

 

 

Citeste mai mult...

Poezii de Pasquina Filomena, Italia

12257977083?profile=RESIZE_400x
 
TRA LE ONDE
 
Voglio scrivere tra le onde,
tutto quello che non riesco a dirti.
Parole ferme nel vento,
all'unisono di immagini,
ancora da scoprire e da vivere.
Pensieri,
che volano col sole,
e si disperdono tra le nuvole.
Di un cielo terso,
come l'anima.
Un'anima,
che vuole dirti tutto e niente.
Portami via col vento.
Portami dove i miei occhi,
vedranno ancora la luce.
 
 
TENEREZZA
 
 
Ti guardo.
Ti guardo e sorrido.
Mi vien voglia di abbracciarti,
di stringerti forte,
di baciare quel sorriso,
che sa di eterna giovinezza.
Sei lì,
con gli occhi al cielo,
le mani che ondeggiano,
e salti alla vita.
Ti guardo.
Ti guardo e sorrido.
Mi fai tenerezza.
Si... tenerezza.
Ecco l'ho detto.
Quella tenerezza,
che si incastra con i miei pensieri.
Pensieri,
sparsi nell'aria,
tra le luci, nella folla.
Vivi...
e salta alla vita,
sempre...
Amore mio.
 
 
Citeste mai mult...

Urednik časopisa-moja malenkost

12257486096?profile=RESIZE_584x

Što to huči
 
Što to huči ko kad zmija ije
Što zatrovan mehlem vodu pije
To se hulja po ravnici mrda
Da dostigne miris cvjetnog brda
 
Što to huči posvuda se čuje
Što to dušu najtopliju truje
To se nečast s'tudjom čašću bori
Da pepeo mjesto žara gori
 
Eh što hoće što se nikad neće
Bez opanka vrelim pijeskom šeće
Eh žalosti u srcu što haraš
Sebe lažeš druge bi da varaš
 
Što to huči u koraku zadnjem.
Pa je prvi u muslima kradnjem.
Ište čajre na sve strane svijeta.
No uvelo nikad ne procvjeta.
Citeste mai mult...

 

12243734299?profile=RESIZE_400x 

الإهداء

 

إلى روح ذاك الرّجل الذي رتق فراغات روحي...أبي الذي لن يجود زماني بمثله....

إلى النّور والصّمت

إلى الموتى المنسيين

إلى  من سيقف يوما على قبري

إلى من قضوا بجائحة كوفيد 19 في العالم...

 

 

تمهّل قليلا كورونا

قليلا تمهّل

لأرى الشّمس تشرق من كفّي

لأشهد موسم جني الزّيتون في عينَيْ

لأسمع تلك الأهازيج الجميلة

ليأكل ذاك الطّفل الجائع رغيف كلماتي

ليشرب القمر من فنجاني

 مذ صرختي الأولى

مذ ضحكتي الأولى على هذه الأرض

كنت معي أيّها الموت

 في مكان ما من جسدي كنت تختفي..

 

 

 كورونا تمهّل قليلا

قليلا تمهّل كوروتا

لأحتفي بك وتحتفي بي كما تشتهي وأشتهي

قل أيّ الفساتين أرتدي؟

الورديّ؟

الذّهبيّ؟

أم الأزرق النّيلي...؟

أأربط شعري ذيل حصان؟

أأعقصه إلى الوراء ؟

أأضع فوقه التّاج؟

أم أجعله ينساب على كتفَيْ كنهر السّان...؟

دعنا من المساحيق والأقنعة

سأغسل وجهي من رذاذ شلاّل الشّمس

سأطليه بحليب

أليس الأبيض ما تريد...؟

لك ما تريد

فقط  اسمح لي أن أكتحل باللّيل قليلا

بعض اللّيل على الرّموش لا يضير

اخترت أن آتيك حافية القدمين

لأرقص معك طويلا

طويلا سأرقص

كما تريد سنرقص..

Nu este disponibilă nicio descriere pentru fotografie.

Citeste mai mult...