[I wanted to collect poems about angels from a good part of the world for the readers of the magazine. Angels are “people” who suddenly appear in every moments to give light to life…they are always in my life. When I had lost hope. I turned to the divine with all my heart asking for help in overcoming a great test. Suddenly, without any logical explanation, a multitude of angels came and fought with me, bringing me help, comfort and love. To the beloved angels, poets who participated in this path, my gratitude –Stefania Miola]

Twilight 

Agron Shele – Albania

At the twilight I saw the angel descending

Like only he knows to

His white wings blinded the night

And a bright vail covered the sky,

The glowing shape, like a hanging spirit

The fire, kidnapped from the bosom

That was burning on the eyes of lightning

And was poured as a thunderclap

In the turbulent sea.

Or maybe it was the magic of life

That descends from the God’s throne

To bestow only one flash

That was lost to the sunset

To the ship’s rigs surrounded by seagulls

Permeating invisible circles

Flickering on a cover of mystery

As a mirage remains in my day dream.

At the twilight I saw the only light

Brightening the frame of a siren

That radiates her hair to the waterfall,

Immersing them to the ends of depth

Like a reflection of glory itself

To her arm, covered in emerald

Where the specter of colors brakes

Attracted to a red charm.

At twilight I saw the innocent sight

Of her, who gave birth to life!

Building a monument to humanity

The era that lights the world

To spark another desire

Of tomorrows eternity

Kneeling in front of the altar

To get the sole blessing.

***

The angels that I know

Adriano Schiavon –Piemonte – Italy

The angels that I Known

They have no wings

Nor little baby bodies

The angels that I know.

They have heavy shopping bags in one hand.

The other is close to the handrail of the tram.

And sometimes they blaspheme my angels.

And the angels I know have a thousand labors among the wrinkles.

As they sparkle brilliantly in a smile.

***

What is an Angel? Who is he?

Adriano Schiavon -– Piemonte – Italy

A winged being surrounded by a divine aura?

I am an agnostic

But I love the fairy tales

My pragmatism combines the figure with the imagination

Then I think I know an Angel

He is alive in this land

And the severity suffers

He chews it, fights it.

He is like us

But he smiles and says it will pass.

He rarely cries and only with those he loves to mess with

Only with those who caress it, does the hair look like wings of God

It is then that a smile appears that sweeps away all the mercy of the Earth

It is then that an Angel appears to me

But I’m an agnostic and I believe in fairies

***

Angels

Sandra Mutto– Veneto –Italy

May you be my lighthouse at all times,

 My sweet guardian angel.

 Be my teacher of Love,

Because in this world there is so little.

 May you be the strongest arms ready to welcome me darkest moments.

May you be my faithful friend!

 Ready to listen to me, advise me and console me.

 May you be a source of inspiration and virtue!

 So that I can make sense of my life with your help.

May you always be that angel!

 That since I was a child I have learned to know and love.

 You my angel, always my thanks.

***

The angels

Sandra Mutto – Veneto Italy

Mystical and sweet creatures,

 The most precious good that God could give us next to us….

When you hear them arrive everything is so beautiful and luminous

 It is as if the butterflies were inside you. at our sunset,

In which we will start to return Home.

The Love that God wanted to give us,

 To protect us and guide us

In the tortuous paths of life.

***

An angel in my front yard

Naser Alshaikh Ahmed – Saudi Arabia

Outside, up in the sky, the stars were so bright.

So, worried in my bed, I could not sleep that night.

I looked out through my window glass.

I noticed a movement on the grass.

Darkness was creeping into my room.

I felt like brushing lights with a broom.

With all the bounties I have in hand.

Happiness seemed so for to land.

I saw figures appear and then fade.

There was someone out there. I can see a shade.

It was an old man. The man had no home

Squatted like he was waiting for the dome

He raised up and on his feet he stood

Trying to look as strong as he could

What have I done to deserve this?

Should I help or should I be careless?

 Shall I neglect him? I couldn’t dare

For I would be hunted by a nightmare

I could be have bluntly and invent a lie.

But a man doesn’t know when he will die.

Something like a revelation poked my heart.

 Made me pause for a moment, then restart.

I rushed with a pillow and a cover.

May he need them or may he never

I was confused, so I brought him in.

For he might be the key, the key to heaven.

Deeper in my soul I began to realize

Blessings to be shared not to monopolize

Now the man was so satisfied.

He smiled and looked at me with pride.

He turned into a butterfly

And flew off the window so high

He was very happy flying around.

With sparkling lights that touched the ground

Flapped his wings and waved goodbye

It was an angel that came by.

***

Angels of Truth 

Maid Corbic – Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina

Love still lives

The joy is great

For the sleepy eyes of this one

Which are yours only

Love builds peace

Long live the angels

And love develops

When I least expect it.

I certainly know now

That love is stronger

And when we are happy

And when we are sad

The angels of sorrow are here

And without you everything is empty

Because love is clearer

When I least expect it.

***

The Angels of God 

Luz Milla Castellano – Colombia

My beloved, my lord, hold my soul I go to your lap,

Sun flower petals golden paths,

Angels hold my hand

The angels of God,

Holy children with their gazes open the sky,

Their souls full of dreams in the gloom of the monsters of the world,

His hands do not hold guns with bullets,

 They hold trumpets of freedom,

Soldiers of God in a desolate world that sings of hope,

The angels of God are the children,

The game of war breaks glass in their sweet minds,

In their innocent hearts,

Their weapons are love,

How not to cry with their tender eyes, with their sweet faces?

Golden fireflies dance in the dark night,

 The light of her heart showing new paths of love,

The angels of the Lord, the brightness of life remains,

Crossing borders, crossing the limits of unconsciousness,

Love exists on the wings of angels,

His hands drawing landscapes of freedom,

The angels of God!

The angels of God fly in the seed of the dandelion there where dreams are,

Where the wind waters love, holy food the word of God,

The angels of God looking for my love the angel of the Lord, my Lord,

Flies hummingbird carries the message, a new awakening,

Where history is filled with angels in love in pandemic times,

What was will no longer be it’s time for love, angels do exist,

The soldiers of the Lord, the children sing, they no longer cry,

They are the angels of God.

***

The Angels of My Life 

Luz Milla Castellano – Colombia

Angels

My mother

That I felt and saw,

My father my protective hero,

My playmates,

My friends shields of goodness, fellow adventurers,

The angels of heaven always by my side, my father sent many, his infinite love extended his sacred hand to take care of me,

The angels on their white horses with their hands full of psalms take care of my life,

The horsemen of love, the same ones from the apocalypse of the beginning and the end,

The angels of God in the bodies of children, their pure eyes showed me the creator,

His holy songs praise God,

The war made them saints, their pure heart gave them victory, and the gragon of evil was destroyed,

The angels of my life are many, sometimes they cannot be seen, their holy light closes the eyes of those who doubt, but there they are, there where the heart looks and the eyes are blind, the angels of my life, of your life, of our lives, there are the angels of my life.

***

Jung in the Shadows 

Alan Patrick Traynor-Ireland

The roar of the woods

Rectangle trees

Long cast Red Book shadows

A dodecahedron in her face

Yes, a song sung before from the salariat

Stonechat

Outside of Reading Gaol

Like a saffron beaked sage

Like a javelin

Leaves the throat

The Eternal PI

Because love has nothing better

To do!

So you Rise up from a Lake

Rage the savage machines

Excalibur

In the triangle flesh of her heart

Lose your soul

Amid your tourmaline whispers

Chivalry is a blade

An unfathomable exility where mitres roar.

And weep in the trees of Hedera

A gold yellow helix

Wrapped around your feet

Guenevere, beneath you

Where children play like salmon

In the rivers of architecture

Bending words through the helicoid light

Where often I did meet Dionysius the Areopagite.

In the hectic Shadows of Angels

Their gold spiraling blood that circles

Up through the existential wrists of Heaven

Did you see it Jung

In the Shadows

In the feudal chair the Lord of Alchemy

On Hadrian’s Wall

The vindolanda white king of death

Steel ringed taloned horns of sycamore gap

A harrier king

That clasps

The king of Hastings

And death shall fall like an Owl

Between you

Artemis in a train station in Athens

Waiting to be kissed

Like a red Swan

Heaving on the Stars

Like a silk worm wanting to be saved

Like the blood

That ran down

Your leg in Agrotera.

***

Message

Sai Prakash – India

I saw her not once many times

That too early into the mornings.

Whispering into my ears

Her eyes locked into mine

May be an angel carrying some divine message

Sent from the far cosmos

No translators to my aid

Often I missed to interpret

But to admit she with her untiring efforts and appearance

Came to me again and again

Her bright face a beacon of light

Urging me to be something that I am not before

As soon as I wake up from my dream she is no longer there

Only to appear the next day before dawn

This time I made up my mind

 To decipher what her presence and message mean to me

Though sleeping I kept on meditating

She did arrive with more radiance this time.

I could read her lips

Oh! Bard this is the right time

For you to leave your indelible

 Mark on the reader’s mind

Write your verse with more depth and dedication

Let every soul rejoice your verse and words

You have the blessings of the cosmos and beyond

I felt her soothing hand on my forehead

Opening my eyes I still see her aura

A pen that glitters like the

Northern star left back for me

 By my bed side. 

***

Angels

Rosa Resende – Portugal

Today I dreamed of you in the dark night

The wind, were violin echoes

I felt your face lit up

Packing my soul

You are the angel that shines my way

To whom I give myself with affection

I feel your radiance

That calm my pain

You were breeze and dream

Wrapping me in love

You were my spirit of light

You were the song of my heart

You were a rainbow and a smile

You were an angel hugging my cross

Flying and being born in love

There are moments of magic

Gilding my existence

My dear angel

Your presence

Makes me feel love in poetry

***

One day

Mirella Vinardi – Caselle Torinese, Italy

I see an Angel

One day

He look at me, and I look at him

In his blue eyes

In see the Sky

I see his hurt and my

I see an Angel

One day

He was sitting

In the street

When i look

Into his eyes

I see another world

Better world

I see an Angel

One day

***

Angels, from mortal to cosmic

Luis Antonio Aranda Gallegos (ScriEscribano) Mexico

Angels, supernatural beings;

Active in various mythologies,

Willing to serve every day;

Of Lot, they were cordial protectors.

.

Benevolent, heavenly beings;

They are protectors of utopias,

Of divine designs, they are watchmen;

Portentous repellents of evils,

Messengers from Creation,

They closed the earthly paradise;

Hagar had, through them, salvation.

They distance the people from the banal,

Path of the great Annunciation,

Custodians until final destination.

***

An Angel on Earth

Shamima Shawket- Bangladesh

A key clenched in her fist

A three-year old in her lap

She is just six.

But has already seen how hard

Life is.

Mother gives her taka fifty

Before leaving

To subsist on the whole day.

That buys cheap snacks,

Nothing nourishing—

Only chips, pickles or ice cream.

She eats these and feeds her

Brother too.

But their small, frail bodies gain

No strength.

The malnourished bodies cling to each other.

For them, there is no school, no studies

All she knows is that she must guard their hut.

Where there’s nothing except

Few old clothes and some

 Pots and pans

And she must take care of her little brother.

No divine word or angel comes

 To them from the Creator.

Day after day, they contend

 With harsh reality

Bereft of any assurance or

Miracle.

*** 

The Absolute

Giuseppe Cataldi – Lazio -Italia

The Absolute that passes by

Me when he realizes that I peek

Shakes rattles and shakes his head

He is happy at the party

Has a beautiful fast pace

Long legs give him comfort

They are the ones that kick me after

And I feel it on me

And I roll and seek shelter

Maybe I tell myself he did it on purpose

Without me he can’t live

Is a stray mine an intrusive Angel!

The Absolute who lives next

 To me endure every mess

 I make He doesn’t judge,

He just shrugs his shoulders

And winks at me

If I’m wrong I tell him: disappear

I’m tired now but he doesn’t

Give up so tender with my intentions

So firm to my conclusions

Yes I love flowers! I tell him to save me

But a despot navigating in the head

Makes league with the Absolute

He lowers his voice and smiles next

To him we are talking

But do I tell him what I want to do?

Better not I’ll catch it off guard

He won’t play with my feelings.

Usual stuff of good and evil

And everything I should do but

What balls dear Absolute?

Reset every now and then

And don’t plagiarize me!

______________________

Stefania Miola is an eminent Poetess, Art Critic and Journalist from Italy. Since 2015, her three books have been published – “One sky – the only true one”, “Violets in the Desert” and “The scent of the white rabbit”. All books are awarded nationally and internationally. Her several poems are present in anthologies of various publishing houses.

The post Angels all over the world – A bouquet of Global Poetry first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Nguyễn Hưng Hải

Poet Nguyễn Hưng Hải, born in Phu Tho province, Vietnam, graduated from Faculty of History, Hanoi University in 1980. He is member of Vietnam Writers’ Association and Vietnam Journalists’ Association, and is author of 30 volumes of poetry and epics. He won many national and local literary and journalistic awards in Vietnam.

Before dawn

They are like me, I’m like them

Whole lives only sacrifice

Because it is too good that people always take advantage of it

If never good, how dare disrespected…!

Selling the reputation of three coins that swaggered anywhere

Buying the reputation of three thousand coins that bowed the head

Miserable as a dog but don’t know

What’s a bone tossing with…?

Two of you that are like me with the same misery

Buying the happiness for people that not for us

How much kindness are not enough

Scared of human hands when killing…!

***

To dry the shirt

It’s to dry the not wet shirt

It’s to re-dry the Truong Son period

It’s to dry the loneliness

Who are lost, who are alive and where are they after so many years

Green forest, pale soldiers’ shirts

It’s to dry so that to remember and find in next days

Truong Son of up and down

It’s to dry of indifferent glances

Backpacks carried to the balks

It’s to dry the tensions of falling rains

Shirts embraced lives

Going into the fire, still smiling like nothing

Looking to someone to dry her husband shirt

Again mourning for the cold night of pity Truong Son

Now no one count to gain or lose

No one to dry frayed shirts in the afternoon rain

Dry it for remembering the old days

For not forgetting the New Year’s Eve vibration bombs

For mourning behind the backs

For knowing where the shame is tomorrow

For reminding in the future

Truong Son shirts, although pale, still to dry…

***

Raining in Ancient Citadel

The rains were from many years

And the rains were white way that you visited him

Hands followed the unknowns

You went out from the time of black hair until now

Surrounded by you were graves

The scent was being leaned by the rain and wind

Cupping hands to remind the feelings

Turned off from previous years from that nights

To live with memories, dreams

Going with her tears to visit him

Tombstones around horizon

The backs were bent to become the roof rises

How can cover the time

Just rain to live by the rain

To support the scent of smoke and blowing wind

To light up the Ancient Citadel four seasons of incense

To pick up every hand of bones

Mixed in the sandy soil, the road, the river…

How many years more will be curved backs?

In the rain, it become roofs above the graves

To cover the dry bones

It called mushrooms, but where are they now?

How many clouds hovered over the heads?

To overlook to the Ancient Citadel in pure white color

White as her virgin’s heart

How many years, still she visited it alone…

***

Two words ‘Thank You’

Before April 30, 1975

In my garden, there was an American soldier lying in a pool of blood

What did the soldier say in flickering that my young sister didn’t understand?

It was like «Help, save… save me!

Tore off my brother’s worn shirt

My young sister bandaged the wound of American soldier

Wiped the blood that has not dried on his young face, my mother sit quietly

Looked out to the garden with exploding gun

Mom and sister did not know who the American soldier called in his whisper

Maybe it was this soldier who just shot my young brother in the left chest before he was shot

My brother was also injured but there was no one there… so he died in the battle

At the gate of Saigon, who heard my brother’s voice…!?

Two words “Thank You” that erased all hatred in life

My brother was lying on the other side of Saigon Bridge, possibly shot by this soldier in the left chest

Just like this soldier’s left chest that my mother and sister have bandaged him

That cannot be able to return to my mother and me…

After many years to return to Saigon, the American soldier still did not forget

The eyes of Saigon mother looked down

The eyes of Saigon girl looked down

Instead of two words Thank You, put hands cross and say “Cảm ơn”*…

The American soldier went with my mother and sister to the other side of Saigon Bridge

Looked down at the river and dropped a white wreath

I stood among the three on the sunny April 30th morning

What else can I say other than two words “Thank you”…?

*”Cảm ơn” means “Thank you” in Vietnamese language

***

Dear grandmother!

She used to sit at the door and looked out

Silver grain years via human hair

Half-crying and half-smiling years

I went to lodge school and the grandmother raised chickens

I missed her all week

Afternoon sitting on the doorstep and looking at the horizon

Poor mother, I was raised by the grandmother

Tears flowed back, don’t laugh in the past

Money for gifts and cakes to be saved

Where else the grandmother to offer?

Knowing the afternoon was the darkness

Only the sill, where she looked

Knowing the love, don’t let the head fall

Tripped on the door step and hurt her shadow

Splashed all over the floor

The corn she drew, her figure crouched

Blinded eyes and dark alley

Looking in to see her looking out?

Knowing the love that she was no longer existed

So that can offer her the gifts and cakes

To make a stick beside a bed

Putting at the doorstep that she can stand up

Rain that can splash on the eaves

Though far away she is still by my side…!

__________________

(Translated from Vietnamese into English by Khanh Phuong)

The post BEFORE DAWN – THE POETRY FROM VIETNAM first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Eid brings trust

Blissful purity after fast

And the promise to feed the hungry souls and heart

Of the sunken universe.

Suhina Biswasmajumdar

Suhina Biswasmajumdar is a writer from Kolkata, Bengal. A life-long devotee of Swami Vivekananda, Suhina is against any discrimination. Two significant life-forces propel her – ‘love’ and ‘writing’. Suhina’s book ‘Tumi’ (you) and Songs of Silence (A Journey to Love), are collections of her poetic thoughts.

Let’s Celebrate

To me

Eid refers surrender

Reflects mercy

Recalls prayer

To me

Eid shows charity

Showers blessings

Shakes blindfold lust

To me

Eid brings trust

Blissful purity after fast

And the promise to feed the hungry souls and heart

Of the sunken universe.

***

Lost my way

Try to search

Everywhere

If I can,

Have you any….

Any clue or….

Have lost my way….

Lost my…..

Home…. name ….mind…. identity?

May be…

May be not…. may not be….

But

He knows

What I’ve lost, yes,

Lost my innocence,

The gate-pass to return….

N now

Try to search that once more…

In a hurry, signal warns

It’s time for U-turn

***

Broken Pieces

Try to connect

Try to collect before

Try to

Scattered parts

And

Broken pieces of

Hearts heritage and humanity

Contact

If near future you need

I’ll be with you

To create a new domain

I know, you need my help

I know u need one victim, that pretty prey

To justify your blame game.

______________

The post Let’s Celebrate – Poetry from Bengal first appeared on Sindh Courier.

At last, we parted from them.

Blaming only each other,

We were left destitute, from the rain of happiness.

Abdurasulova Maftuna

Abdurasulova Maftuna was born on December 15, 2003 in Bukhara city. Her poems were published in local magazines and journals. She is the student of faculty of foreign languages and literature of Uzbekistan State World Languages University. Her first poem “My country” was published in 2015.

Nostalgia

Crushing my heart with full of nostalgia,

I am thinking of you again.

Wandering the gardens, wandered with you,

I will tell the flowers, I am in pain.

Where is happiness that does not love us?

Left us in a halfway,

Where kindness dreams,

Died before reaching their station.

In our sunny sky,

Look, a black cloud is wandering.

Our rain of happiness, when rains hard

The umbrella if separation obscured happiness.

We could not save our pure emotions,

At last, we parted from them.

Blaming only each other,

We were left destitute, from the rain of happiness.

***

How do I live alone without you?

When I am overwhelmed with pain,

I clung to your hug, mother.

When I am lost the test of life,

I longed for your love, mother.

Sometimes, I fantasize,

I would better you are, my dear.

I this darkness, ugly, evil world,

How could I stand without you, mother.

I am glad you are next to me,

A comfort to my heart, an ointment to my wounds.

You are my true happiness in this world,

My sun, my dear, my flood of love.

Why do you sacrifice yourself so much?

After all, I am not worth a drop of your tears.

Why you always think of me, not yourself,

When I snow, to your black hair.

Even if I do not see you in every minute,

Please take care of yourself, mom.

I ask Allah in my prayers,

Bless you all the time, my heaven.

Without you, I am nothing, an idiot,

Freezing with pain, I am cruel.

Tell me, how I live alone, without you,

In a soulless body, I am a simple soul.

__________________

The post Nostalgia – Poetry from Uzbekistan first appeared on Sindh Courier.

I drink when going in the forest,

Slope climbing

Mountain climbing!

Nong Thi Ngoc Hoa

Nong Thi Ngoc Hoa, poetess from Vietnam, was born in 1955 in Yen Thinh, Cho Don, Bac Can. She is member of Vietnam Writers Association, The Association of Literature and Art of Vietnam’s Ethnic Minorities and the Association of Literature and Art of Phu Tho Province. She has won 6 Literature Awards and is author of nine books including: Lullaby for myself (1999), Love garden (2002), Why is that? (Poetry, 2012), Path for clouds (2004), and ‘Collected countryside’s words’ (2010).

When I drink

No need a table

No need a cup, no need a glass

No need to notice a green or red bottle

My wine was in bamboo tube

I drink when going in the forest,

Slope climbing

Mountain climbing!

Drink for relieving back fatigue

For fun when friends come

For warming stomach when wading in the stream

Catching the fish so the wife can cook sour soup

The wine that my wife distilled – No buy

Just smell of the corn and the rice

I drink on backs of a buffalo and a horse

Drink relevant to my stomach, no percentage count.

KHI MÌNH UỐNG RƯỢU

Chẳng cần bàn

Không cần cốc cần ly

Không để ý chai xanh hay chai đỏ

Rươu của mình đựng bằng ống nứa

Mình uống khi đi rừng,

leo dốc

leo nương.

Uống cho đỡ mỏi cái lưng

Cho vui khi bạn tới

Cho ấm bụng khi lội suối

bắt con cá về để vợ nấu canh chua.

Rượu vợ cất – Không phải mua

Cứ thơm mùi ngô, mùi lúa

Mình uống cả trên lưng trâu, lưng ngựa

Uống vừa bụng mình, không tính phần trăm.

***

To send my hands

It is frosty outside

It is drizzling outside

The cold is tougher

Hands are numb

Oh honey! I need to be warmed up

Let me put my hands in a warm place

Just afraid of getting cold in you

The fire on the floor is familiar

Nine stairs is accustomed to.

Who knows, the eyes used to seeing

The feet are familiar to come

Breath falls in love with the breath

The stomach boils with the memory

Scratch as if eating sour food

Are you ready for me the place to send my hands?

GỬI TAY

Ngoài kia sương giá

Ngoài kia mưa phùn

Cái rét ngọt hơn

Cái tay tê cứng

Mình ơi! Ta cần ủ nóng

Cho ta gửi cái tay vào chỗ ấm

Chỉ sợ cái lạnh theo vào mình thôi

Ngọn lửa sàn quen hơi

Chín bậc thang bén tiếng

Biết đâu cái mắt quen nhìn

Cái chân quen đến

Hơi thở phải lòng hơi thở

Cái bụng sôi theo cái nhớ

Cồn cào như ăn phải của chua

Mình sẵn cho ta chỗ gửi tay chưa?

***

Hey Honey…

Hey honey, in which village do you live in?

Your dress smells with new indigo

Your hands have been pale since childhood

Until now still pale

All year round, hands dyes indigo

All year round, spins silk 

It’s sunny in the yard you embroider skirts

The way of walking as the mountain

Wearing a basket on back, carrying the stream back home

The rocky mountain is beside, the district market is far away

The rice field is as narrow as a skirt strip

Sweat is full of corn traces

Walking since in father’s belly, so calves are big

The following person kisses the heel of the person in front

At night, the moon hangs in front of chest

The flute calls earnestly to the lips inviting lovers

High Disparity Mountain

Only you are so close

The skirt circles around, I am as a whirlpool

I get caught in the pattern

Hey honey, let me follow the uphill

Let me be your good horse.

ẤY ƠI…

Ấy ơi ở bản nào về

Váy áo thơm mùi chàm mới

Bàn tay xanh từ bé

Đến bây giờ vẫn xanh

Quanh năm nhuộm chàm

Quanh năm se lanh

Trời nắng ra sân thêu váy

Dáng đi như dáng núi

Đeo lù cở trên lưng cõng suối ngược về nhà

Núi đá bên mình, chợ huyện thì xa

Ruộng hẹp như dải váy

Mồ hôi đầy dấu tra ngô

Đi bộ từ trong bụng cha, nên bắp chân to

Người đi sau hôn gót người đi trước

Đêm về trăng treo trước ngực

Tiếng khèn gọi môi tha thiết gọi bạn tình

Chênh vênh núi cao

Chỉ em là gần

Vòng xoay váy xoáy ta như xoáy nước

Ta cuốn vào hoa văn

ấy ơi cho ta theo ngược dốc

Cho ta về làm ngựa tốt nhà em.

_________________

The post When I drink – Poetry from Vietnam first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Antonia Petrone

Antonia Petrone, pen name Tonia Poetry, born and lived in Yonkers, New York till 1979, when she moved to Italy with her family to start anew. She learnt a new language and to live in a new cultural environment. She started writing poems from a young age in English and started publishing her work in 2020. She began writing poems in Italian as well and in 2015, she decided to participate in a Poetry Contest with a poem she had written for her father, who passed away in 2012, called “Tu e il Mare” (You and the Sea). She published her first Kindle collection: Poetry Corner di Antonia Petrone. In December 2020, she published “Le Poesie di Antonia” her first collection of poems. In June 2021 “Poetry Garden” was published dedicated to Yonkers New York, her home town in USA. She organizes events of Poetry and Art in her home town, Rivoli. She also translates books from Italian to English.

Dark Sky Shine Your Light

Dark patches above in the sky

Moving slowly over my head

A blink of lightning passing by

Soft is the wind coming ahead

No shower yet to feed the hungry field

No gusts of wind to wipe away that sorrow.

Only shy light to a promise sealed.

Sky, shine your light through our tomorrow.

Unfold

Lord let me continue to plant life

See it blossom through my fingers

Hold its beauty within my hands

Listen happily to its needs

Smell its essence delicately

Respecting its only true wish –

To be taken care of.

Let the flowers bloom!

My love fly high

Just about to fly thousands of feet high in the skies

His thoughts so sweet for children’s tender eyes

A loving heart that shelters hope, joy and kindness,

So afraid of his own heart, behind a shield of shyness

May he open up to happiness and look up with no regret,

Stand tall soon on the ground, mind and soul that don’t forget.

Let the bells of joy resound far up in the sky so blue,

So that once we meet again, his heart opens to my love so true!

Artistic Desire

Within your hands is my body

Craving for your touch of art

Upon your body are my hands

That explores you, oh so creatively

In my mind every thought of you

Depicts a warm and lively scene–

Till the canvas finally reveals

A mystique and bright nuance

Naturally, I release my true colors

Within those able hands of yours,

Longing so for content and joy–

Lastly, to be colorfully portrayed

Within your soft embrace!

_____________

Chinese Version

[意大利-美国]安东尼娅•彼得罗内

黑暗的天空闪耀着你的光芒(外三首)

天上的黑色斑块

正在我的头顶缓缓移动。

一道闪电划过

柔风扑面而来。

依然没有阵雨滋润饥渴的大地

没有一阵风擦去悲伤。

唯有羞涩之光把承诺封存。

天空，你闪耀的光芒照亮我们的明天。

打开

主啊，让我继续播种生命吧

看它在我的指尖绽放

让我把握它的美丽

快乐地倾听它的需求

细细地嗅闻它的精华

尊重它唯一真实的愿望——

关照它吧。

让花儿盛开！

我的爱横空远翔

即将飞到几千英尺高的天空。

他的想法在孩子们的温柔之眼里如此甜蜜。

一颗充满希望、喜悦和仁慈的爱心，

如此害怕自己的感情，躲藏在羞怯的盾牌之后。

愿他对幸福敞开心扉，无怨无悔地仰望，

愿他快速挺立于大地之上，不忘思想与灵魂。

让欢乐的钟声，回响在遥远的蓝天之上，

当我们再次相遇，他的心向我如此真实的爱敞开。

 艺术之欲

我的身体在你的手中

渴望你的艺术触摸。

我的手在你的身体之上

探索你，哦，如此有创意。

在我的脑海里每一次想你

都会描绘出一个温馨而生动的场景——

直到画布最终呈现出

一种神秘而明亮的细微差异。

自然而然，我释放了我的本色

在你灵巧的手中，

如此渴望满足和喜悦——

最终，在你温柔的怀抱里

五彩缤纷。

(朕酋  译）

Zhi Zhang

Contributed by Mr. Zhi Zhang, Editor-in-Chief of Rendition of International Poetry Quarterly and World Poetry Yearbook English Version.

The post Dark Sky Shine Your Light – Poetry from Italy first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Muhabbat Yuldasheva

Muhabbat Yuldasheva, an Uzbek writer, journalist, scriptwriter and movie translator, was born in 1964 and studied at Tashkent Polytechnic Institute. She is a member of Uzbekistan Writers Union. Muhabbat was awarded with White Tablet short fiction prize for her fairy tale ‘Great Dairy River’ in 2010, in Moscow, Russia. She also gained the 1st place of the International Central Asian myths, fairy tales, legends prize for her screenplay ‘The Koh-e-Kaf prince’ in South Korea in 2013. Her short stories and fairy tales are translated into Russian, English, Kazakh, Ukrainian, Korean, Serbian, Belarusian, Korean and Bangla. She has translated more than 20 serials, 400 movies into the Uzbek language.

SPRING RAINFALLS

Sobbed their hearts out

The clouds in black distress

They poured out their woes,

Stroking, soothing roofs’ heads!

Windows were all pleading,

Weeping, beyond all hopes

A dirty window was bathing,

Opening arms to the drops!

The hosts of the grey clouds

Scattered away, as abruptly

Sunbeams painted the sky above,

So vigorous and so lively!

The enormous gate of the sky

Opened all of a sudden

The world got light and bright,

The Sun is Father of the heaven!

RAIN

The autumn rain is in a drizzle,

The summer heat is vapouring up.

Making hearts miss and feel sad,

The rain patter won’t stop.

Drops are dancing on the roof,

Birds are sheltered under cover. 

Lightning, as a whip in flames,

Has bosom of the clouds suffer

Now sun’s peering through the tears,

Wet trees have dried up so gleesome.

On leaves quivering drops tears,

Here is to stroll Madam Autumn…

STARS

The feeble world’s steady to widen,

Eyelashes of mine touch the horizon,

In the bottom of the eyes sinks the sun.

Silence gave forth a sudden sound,

Pierced roofs and walls and the ground,

Only hearts of stone are silent.

The sun has drowned in my eyes,

Moons are gleaming in the iris,

Stars have fallen off the skies.

In the heart’s blazed old smolder,

Nights fall back from its ardour,

Moon and stars alight on the shoulder. 

__________________

The post Spring Rainfalls – Poetry from Uzbekistan first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Suhina Biswasmajumdar

Suhina Biswasmajumdar is a writer from Kolkata, Bengal. A life-long devotee of Swami Vivekananda, Suhina is against any discrimination. Two significant life-forces propel her – ‘love’ and ‘writing’. Suhina’s book ‘Tumi’ (you) and Songs of Silence (A Journey to Love), are collections of her poetic thoughts.

Eyes of the Royal Bengal Tiger

Catch the fire!

That hides in those daring eyes,

Dream a dream,

That some other day

You’ll win the game

You’ll be the ruler of your life

Just wait and watch

Make your mind until you find

Your goal, then change your role

Don’t forget

When fix your target

 And finally spring on it

Life gives chance …but once

Look at those golden eyes

Full of passion and devotion

Choice is always in your court

If you possess majesty or

Have the power to solve mystery

Be the royal one

To conquer the fate, be alert…

Not spend your day as its prey!

________________

The post Eyes of the Royal Bengal Tiger: A Poem from Bengal first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Photo Courtesy: Thrive Global

Contemporary World literature

Poetry from Syria

Three Poems by Shurouk Hammoud

Shurouk Hammod, born in 1982, is a Syrian poetess, editor and literary translator. She did Bachler in Arts and a Masters in text translation from Damascus University. Shurouk is also the member of Palestinian Writers and Journalists Union. She has three published poetry collections in Arabic language and two published poetry collections in English titled: The night papers and blind time, which is translated and published in Serbian and Macedonian languages.

Her poetry has been translated into 14 languages. And as a translator she has translated 16 books so far, in addition to poems by more than 40 poets from around the world.

She has also won many local and international creativity awards:

Charles Baudelaire first prize for poetry creativity, 2018

Sylvia Plath medal for writing poetry, 2017

Jack Kerouac prize for poetry, 2016, Italy

Arthur Rimbaud poetry prize, 2016, Italy

NAJI Naaman prize for poetry, 2015, Lebanon

Nazik al-Malaeka poetry prize, 2012, Iraq

Alexandria Library poetry prize, 2012, Egypt

I did not want to write

I am damaged, my dear!

I was not kidding when I said to you:

My heart is a matchbox that was wetted by tears.

My eyes are an hourglass

Time runs out in

Whenever shadows of love pass in front of them

I am damaged in an unfamiliar way,

So don’t try to be my Night’s Knight

Who comes on the Moon Horse?

I am tired of looking at the sky

As a sunflower

And I buried my compass

So that the directions would not stammer in my head like a time bomb

Then I recover from my ice

That keeps me alive

Like a corpse.

Fake life of a real person

I joined parties I knew nothing about

I attended the Communists Meetings

Just because my friends asked me to spend longer time with them,

I celebrated Nowruz with the Kurds

And danced around the fire

Like an Indian

Also just because I liked them

I attended discussion seminars about books I have not read

Because I like to sneak out silently to smoke a cigarette

Fate gifted me many nightmares that I used to tell to everyone

Under the pretext of interpretation

And the truth is, I don’t care about interpretation as I care for the pleasure I feel

 When all people turn to be the closest to my empty heart!

I flirt my sorrows

I flirt my nightmares

Pat their shoulders

Invite them to all my poetry-reading sessions

And let them sit in the first row as the closest friends.

Of course they did not hear of ingratitude,

So they share the same eagerness

Crown me as their first priority,

Telling me stories I thought I had forgotten,

Dancing with my past on the stairs of tomorrow,

And as they feel the pulse of frost in my body,

They sing to me

Their stubborn songs

In order not to sleep!

____________________________

Also read: Recreating Palestine in Literature: A Nation Crafted From Words

The post Contemporary World literature: Poetry from Syria first appeared on Sindh Courier.

“Women in Love” is a Poetic Anthology, with 15 poems written by global poetesses. The Greek poet and storyteller Eva Petropoulou Lianoy collected the poems celebrating the Valentine Day. The anthology was designed by Egyptian poet and novelist Ashraf Aboul-Yazid and published in the Silk Road Literature series.

The 15 poetesses who authored the poems included Eva Petropoulou Lianoy herself, who works as a web radio producer reading fairy tales at radio logotexniko vima every Sunday for children. Recently she became responsible for the children literary section in Vivlio anazitiseis publications in Cyprus. Eva’s recent work includes: “The water Amazon fairy called Myrtia”, illustrated by Vivi Markatos, and “Fairytravel with stories from Far East”.  She writes: “Unmask yourself, Welcome Passion, as you have the right to be Happy, every minute of your life.”

Photini Karamouzis Chalkias, one of the Greek lady contributors, is a graduate of the School of Science in Early Childhood Education in the sector of Special Education and Psychology, owning also a Certificate of Specialization in ‘Special Research Account on Mental and Community Health Programs’ “Emotional Intelligence and Self-Esteem”. Hence she acquired the Official Document of Acknowledgement in Tutoring Qualifications, and a certificate in Family Engagement & Education in Harvard University.

She has been an Arts-Cultural Mediator in a Performative Fine Art s & Creativity Association. Photini is the founder of the artistic union ‘Ulysses’. For more than 10 years she has worked as a private tutor in English-speaking schools and as an Educational Psychologist on young people with learning disabilities and mental disorders.

Another Greek poem was written by Amphitrite Constantelos-Manuel who was born in a small town of Messinia, Greece, named Spilia. After graduating from the Gymnasion of Kyparissia, she emigrated in the USA. She graduated from the teacher’s college of St. Basil and became a teacher of Greek Language. She married Chrysostom Manuel who was ordained as a Greek Orthodox Minister and started teaching Greek Language in the communities where her husband served as their priest. She continued her education and earned BA from the North Carolina State University in history and education. She taught Greek at the Comment Language School of Ford Bragg to Special Forces soldiers.

She has published a collection of poems in Greek and English: “Σκιρτήματα Καρδιάς Φτερουγίσματα του Νου- few thoughts, few tears, a little laughter”, two children’s books: “Three Aesop’s Tales Retold in Verse”, “Five Aesop’s Tales Retold in Verse” and a translation in Greek of the classic “The Night before Christmas”.

The Greek collection also has Pertha Kalemi, who was born in Andissa, a village of Lesvos. She has graduated from the Commercial College of Athens and has a degree in Hotel Business Management, specifically in the “Archipelagos” educational program of the Organization of Greek Tourism (E.O.T).

From a young age she was an amateur actress for theater plays. She has played with the Amateur Literary Club “BOURINI” in Greece and abroad. She has also attended theatrical classes. She has since her childhood been and still is an active member of the Greek Guiding Association (G.G.A.). Today she is president of the Guiding Camping Center in Mihou (G.G.A.), a member of the Administrative Council of the Scientific Union “Aiolian Studies Company” and also a member of “Lesvos’s Oral History Union”. She often takes part in educational seminars, Poetry Symposiums, and in Greek and Universal conferences. She has also taken part in numerous Poetry evenings, book presentations and literature speeches for poets and intellectuals.

She has been thoroughly studying Greek and Global literature and poetry. In June 2017, she published her first poetic collection, titled “Untraveled Dreams” and her lyrical proses “Erotic Alleluia” are recently being published. Apart from poetry, she writes essays, book critiques, folklore and prose.

Poet, Essay writer and book Critic, Dimitris Nikoretzos, is her spiritual parent.

Another Greek participant is Parthena Tsoktouridou, who was born in Ptolemaida, Eordea, and has been writing since 1994. She has been involved in painting, theater, journalism and directing children’s plays.

Her diverse and multi-year activity was occasionally published in newspapers, magazines and television channels. She was an active member of the Writers’ Union of Northern Greece and various associations. She participated in 24 anthologies of literary and fiction books, in literary magazines, poetry diaries and encyclopedias. She published 15 literary books and dealt with studies, folklore, history, art.

Her children’s plays and a poetic historical composition were performed in various parts of Greece by artistic groups. She has been awarded 33 times by various cultural and publishing bodies. Her poems were set to music. She presented numerous Pontian events with speeches and her poetry in public places and television channels. She has presented literary books by many authors and poets, as well as her own. Organized dance festivals and all kinds of literary and artistic events. She has participated in many literary conferences and group painting exhibitions with works of her own.

Concluding the Greek group of poetesses, we have Kapardeli Eftichia. She is a PhD in literature from ARTS AND CULTURE WORLD ACADEMY. She lives in Patras. She writes poetry, stories, short stories, hai-ku and essays. She has studied journalism from A.K.E.M. she has many awards in national competitions. She has many national and international anthologies to her credit. She is a member of the World Poets’ society.

The anthology gives a space to Deema Mahmood, Egyptian poetess. She has a bachelor degree in Computer Sciences and Statistics, and worked as Professor Assistant for many years in the departments of Computer sciences, Mathematics and Statistics in both the College of Education and the College of Health Sciences in Abha, Saudi Arabia. Currently, she is a voiceover, an audio narrator, a storyteller and a dubbing actor. Her publications: Braids of Spirit (Poetry), Dar Al-Adham, Cairo, 2015. I Pick Quarrels with the Horizon over a Violin (Poetry), Dar Al Ain, Cairo, 2017. In her poem, A Butterfly, Translated by Mary Madec. She wrote:

“As a raw butterfly, I float at home

In the time of the kitchen           

Cutting a piece of it for poetry that is beyond curtain

Nobody knows that a poem melted down from me

Whereas washing dishes

 A storm of words swept me while cooking okra

I sometimes, don’t have any explanation for the momentum covering me while grilling fish

Like pendulum, the stanzas vibrate in my head

I want them likewise, swinging and stressing

Not to be polished by the vapor of frying and the smell of cleaning powders

May I wrap them in a towel, not to be wet by moisture while cooling in the fridge

Scarcely, I hurried to write down my stanzas

That spouts from the kitchen, on the mobile notes

When my home day ends, I look at the mirror

Touching my eyelashes, eyes, lips and my roses

So, I have rapture from my lissome completion

The idols of poetry that tempted me at the kitchen,

Lurks in my braid and refuses to get out

I try to remember but in vain, as if fell in the soup plate

Of my husband who swigged it saying:

Explain to me why some of your food is more delicious than others

In other times,

He winks me flirting at the mirror

Pulling out the poetry stanzas from my hair

Printing them with his music on my lips

Then, I want to step to complete the poem.”

Another Arab contribution comes from Tunisia. Imen Melliti has been qualified in international relations ( PhD), master of art in translation , master of art in gender studies , bilingual translator , journalist in Electronic press , chief member in cultural associations , publishing in 2017 “master your English ” for intermediate student “, children stories 2021 (in printing process). Of her words: “On the day of earth, Humanity is mourning its birth”.

Awarded internationally by humanitarian associations, Arab Council, nominated as peace ambassador from Al Furat International Organization for Peace, participated in several anthologies.

Italian Maria D’Ippolito (Iris) is a writer and poet, who was born in Rome and lives in Tuscany. She is an ecologist and nature lover with a passion for writing. She has won numerous awards, and is also present in various anthologies for children.

The Young author from Turkey is TÜRKAN ERGÖR. She is a sociologist, writer, poet and columnist. Türkan Ergör was awarded the Excellence in Literature Award by Spanish-World Writers’ Union-UNIÓN HISPANOMUNDIAL DE ESCRITORES UHE. She was born on 19 March 1975 in city Çanakkale, Turkey. She was awarded International “Best Poet 2020” by the International Multi-Disciplinary Research Conference. Her poems have been translated into different languages and published. She has won many international awards. Her poems were published in International Anthologies.

A unique participation has been written by Ljubica Katic, who was born in 1957 in Niksic-Montenegro: “I have been writing children’s, love, social, haiku and spiritual poetry since early childhood. Many of my poems have been translated into several foreign languages and represented in various anthologies. My first independent collection was published in May 2020 in the bilingual edition Croatian-English.

The second collection will be published in March this year. I am a member of many literary associations. I have won many awards and recognitions. I live and work in Split – Croatia.”

Far away, from Mexico comes Jeanette Eureka Tiburcio, the Mexican Pandora’s box, restless mind, always open heart, passionate, tireless soul, lover of education, art and culture, with 28 years at the service of youth and childhood, from education, art and culture , specialist detecting talent, developing it and promoting it in different disciplines. Architect, Pedagogue, Linguist, born communicator, lecturer, writer by need of contribution, promoter of peace, culture, values and art, with different activities under her charge, she has 7 Honoris Causa Doctorates, studies of 2 academic masters, 5 honoris causa masters in the world and different recognitions, she studied 20 postgraduate degrees in different disciplines. She is president, founder or advisor in different institutions on different continents Like a Thousand Minds for Mexico, Mexicans on the Net, Coalition Morocco Mexico Alliance AICHYCI, ETC.  She grew up in a family of French-Mexican and Arab aristocratic lines, aware of her past and maker of her future, putting her life at the service of a better humanity for all.

Representing Asia, RINI VALENTINA, is a trilingual writer – Indonesian, English and Spanish. She has published 16 poetry collection books and 2 short story books, a story translation from Serbia and 7 international multilingual anthology books published on Amazon Kindle (Amazon.com) where she is the chief editor and compiler. She is working currently in two international anthologies in Spanish and English. The woman who also has a hobby of cycling is also known as an editor, translator and self-publisher. Hundreds of her poems are scattered in several international magazines and anthologies.

The Asian touch is also represented by HONG NGOC CHAU, (Full name: NGUYEN CHAU NGOC DOAN CHINH), Vietnam. University Degree: Master of Education Management. She is President of UHE (Vietnam); Inspector and supervisor of W.U. P (World Union of Poets) Member of the Association of Writers of Ho Chi Minh City (Vietnam). World Literary Prize: World poetic Star 2019; Diploma of II ND Level “Temirqazyq – the Best Poet – Writer of the World 2019”. Certificate of honor is a Gold categorized member in Motivational Strip showing outstanding qualities in global literary excellence and contributions 2019; Premio Mundial A La Excelencia Literaria 2019-2020; WORLD AWARDS “CÈSAR VALLEJO 2020”, for education, culture, academy, art, reporting, communication, TV, business, civic, human rights. Books of poems published:  Vietnamese Contemporary Poetry (Volume 1) The road to the true heart, Pitiable or Blamable, and a lot of printed works in newspapers, magazines, and general publications. She writes: “I’d like to tell you: my love is naïve and innocent, With a lot of dreams so passionate and ardent, I long for my ambition under the immense sky, A great love might melt my loneliness like ice.”

Also from Asia is Jyotirmaya Thakur (retired Principal) who is the author of twenty five books. Multi – genre award winning poet of more than 300 awards from literary and humanitarian organizations. She is a reviewer, translator, columnist, researcher, spiritual, social and an environmental activist. She serves on various prestigious Committees as Ambassador in many literary and humanitarian organizations. Her work has been published in many anthologies, magazines internationally and translated in many languages. She has shared a beautiful poem, which says ‘Beauty of love crosses all borders’.

GRANDEUR OF LOVE

Grandeur of love is in heart of the beholder,

A little hug in kind is a grand gesture,

Let’s remember the child in us without measure,

And embrace the wild with infinite pleasure.

Beauty of love crosses all borders,

Touches every heart in smiling weather,

In all seasons hot or cold rains compassion,

Toughest heart softens at sweet actions.

Sacred innocuous gentleness within,

Greets violence, dissolves all enmity,

Befriending attraction mesmerize to tilt,

A golden bond of genuine feelings build.

The passionate hands of love enclosing,

Brings a smile to adversary humbling,

Profound love of child and wild is enchanting,

Divine being resides in all lives unfolding.

The vision of love is beyond description,

Once found it loses all limitations,

Love belongs to all in universal celebration,

Every atom is attached to another in jubilation.

Acceptance without discrimination of any kind

Arouses deep respect of companionship in mind,

No race, no colour, no breed, no variation in time

Rejuvenate a primal bond innately sublime.

___________________

Click on Women in Love to watch video

Report on ‘Women in Love – A Poetic Anthology’ has been shared exclusively with Sindh Courier by eminent Egyptian poet, travelogue writer, journalist, novelist and Editor-in-Chief of Silk Road Literature Mr. Ashraf Aboul-Yazid who himself is the author of around three dozen books. His poetic works have been translated in several languages including Sindhi language, the official language of Sindh (a province of Pakistan), known as Young Egypt in history books. 

The post Contemporary World literature: Women in Love – A Poetic Anthology first appeared on Sindh Courier.