Droplets are prayers. One can celebrate life in silence. To sing the praises of a butterfly is to thank God For His love. I am 36 years old. I want to nurture goodness in the world, To say that it is stronger, that evil Is constantly withering away, is weaker. A small gesture of
I received a call from Alicja. A deadline for today. To write two poems… I want to tell Turkey that eternity is a moment. In it, a person is transformed. From it comes everything that follows. It holds within itself a taste of eternity. Eternity is already unfolding—now. Nothing will change. We shall not
(Translated by: Anna Maria Mazur) I was awaken by another rainy dawn. Snuggling with a pillow I’m painting your portrait with a poem as if all those years wouldn’t tore us apart as if it would be only a short verse. In the unpredictable wandering of thoughts I saw a cracked door.
(Translated by: Anna Maria Mazur) Again the sun is a day older. I sit in the late glare of a scorching memory and quench my thirst with the echo of voice making me eternal. I become the rain of your eyes the breath of amber dream an empty home that is waiting…
(Translated by Dorota Stępińska) In the chaos of longing she recalls her Mum – how she spread love – how she gave everybody a piece of herself – how she forgave, understood and helped. Still, she kept forgetting that communing with the muddy life of those in need was not a gift she’d been
(Translated by Dorota Stępińska) When the wind of worries blew into the corners of her life, she never stopped believing that she would manage it all. Even though she feared she might not bear it, she got used to the daily struggles. They became a challenge She whispered: – Solving problems is my specialty. Even
(translated by: Marta Kosowska) there are three crows standing ruffling feathers they haven’t even opened their beaks yet but one already knows that they will squawk like people
(translated by: Marek Marciniak) shine forth before you fade deep shine forth before you fall asleep tell me, tell me your life story… about the life full of grovel about the life – not a novel about that rat race hiding your face how much you’ve been worth how many good cards
AN APPEAL TO THE POET Read More »
The whole of civilization will perish tonight with no chance of rebirth – said someone important on the other side of the ocean. On a white tablecloth a glass of Aperol with a slice of orange. A front-row seat: turquoise to the horizon Magnolia petals guided by the gaze drift without haste. Cypresses and
DOLCE VITA, GARDEN LAKE Read More »
So that no one might think that a flesh-and-blood author moves furtively through the poem, that it is he who is stirred by the shadow of leaves upon the southern wall, that it is his heart counting down the hours till dawn, that among his fears he has added the fear of a world without
