ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Each individual poem is copyrighted - Tous droits réservés
TUTTI I DIRITTI RISERVATI. Il copyright di ogni poesia appartiene ad ogni singolo autore
The poems are published in order of arrival
Poesie pubblicate in ordine di arrivo
Les poèmes sont publiés par ordre d'arrivée
Poetry & Light
Amita Sanghavi, Oman
A RAY OF DELIGHT
As the sun dips into the sea,
The evening envelops me,
I see the street lit,
Shadows form a design,
And all geometrically fit.
The birds chirp away
Nestling in their home,
My heart does sway,
As the familiar street
I romp around, I roam.
The street lights change,
The colour-pallet range,
Brown may look browner,
Yellow may appear Orange.
Sipping my tea,
A pattern I see,
On every leaf and tree,
As I watch this play of light,
I birth my poetry
With a ray of delight.
Amita Sanghavi - Muscat, Oman
#lightsforthecity
Amita Sanghavi (Oman) is a lecturer at Sultan Qaboos University, She is a published poet, editor, YouTuber, Talk show host, blogger and writer who muses over life's mysteries and questions.
Ana Stjelja, Serbia
Ana Stjelja (1982, Belgrade, Serbia). In 2012 she obtained her PhD (on the life and work of the Serbian woman writer Jelena J. Dimitrijević).
She is a poet, writer, translator, journalist, researcher and editor. She published more than 30 books of different literary genres. She is published in English, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Slovenian, Farsi, Chinese, Arabic, Azerbaijani and Greek.
The Editor-in-chief of the Alia Mundi magazine for cultural diversity, online literary magazine Enheduana and Poetryzine, an online magazine for poetry in English. In 2018 she established the Association Alia Mundi for promoting cultural diversity. She is also a regular collaborator of The Poet Magazine from England, and the Agape Review conducting interviews with contemporary world poets. She is the Asia and Europe Direction Editor of the Canadian Humanity Magazine. Also, she is the advisor and deputy editor of Chinese literary magazines.
She is a member of the Association of Writers of Serbia, the Association of Literary Translators of Serbia, the Association of Journalists of Serbia and the International Federation of Journalists (IFJ).
Roni Adhikari, Bangladesh
.
I'M THE ABSCONDER DEFENDANT NEAR THE RAIN!
I walk so lonely, only I am alone.
Maybe I'm the absconder defendant near the rain!
Like me like this-
Wet in the rain - who, everyone loves the rain!
When time is lonely, play around with imagination;
The eyes constantly make random impressions.
Heavy rain breaks the clouds, water on water
gradually falling. In the night the fireflies burn,
Illuminated city drowns in busy business-
At the same time, the soil, water, and trees are called to the assembly of nature.
Some nights, even a single drop of sleep does not touch these wounded eyes,
The countless sleeps of the world seem to have vanished into the air.
Alone in this rainy night city
Walking is a connection, a private refuge.
A handful of Moonlight in the gap between the high buildings in the distance
Sometimes it melts. At midnight, the sky looks blank
Intense fire in the eyes, as if the sky is looking for the smell of poetry.
Roni Adhikari, Bangladesh
#lightsforthecity
Roni Adhikari (Bangladesh) is a poet, Journalist and the editor of two little magazines and assistant editor for the newspaper The Swadeshpratidin, . He has published six books : poetry short stories and research. https://www.facebook.com/roni.adhikari1
Jean Salkilld, Wales, UK
After the Storms
The shore-light arc of night illuminates
the shape of Swansea Bay;
voices in the calm tide lull winter darkness
and inspire reflexion.
How vast this kingdom, this vast cloak of water,
so deep, so mysterious!
Lacy edges curl rhythmically towards
the ice-eaten shore;
away with storms of recent days,
mesoscale menaces!
Where is the crescent moon which sometimes
sails over this watery world?
Oceanus, tempestuous ruler,
you must be fast asleep;
tonight you have set anger aside,
your trident and chariot rest;
no waves transport your furious energy
threatening the Earth’s edges;
you are kinder to Amphitrite and
your slave sea creatures.
Oceanus, sleep on and leave
those who love the sea in peace.
© Jean Salkilld
#lightsforthecity
Jean Salkilld was born and raised in Swansea, South Wales, where she still lives. The “town” grew as a bridge between an intensely industrial environment and the beauty of the countryside around it. Jean is a member of The Tuesday Morning Poetry group which produces an annual anthology in support of local charities.
Anoucheka Gangabissoon, Mauritius
Natalie Bisso, Russia/Germany
The lantern
The lantern stood thoughtfully, looking into the night sky,
The words have been memorized for a long time, but the thought torments everything:
Who is brighter in the universe gives his eternal light,
The moon's light is unchangeable, a lantern or dawn?
Take the moon, for example: the sky is not bright,
The lantern is for the joy of the square and for the happiness of the moth.
Dawn will come - of course, the lantern no longer needs to shine,
Only in the pitch black darkness it is his destiny to shine.
The lantern will sing with sadness and in a daze until dark,
Like a memorized record, only dreaming of the silence of the night.
The dawn will go into the dark - the lantern will light up,
And again, the thoughts are capacious flipping through the calendar.
Natalie Bisso, Russia/Germany
#lightsforthecity
NATALIE BISSO (Russia/Germany) is a poet, novelist, essayist, author of 120 songs, more than 3,500 poems, 9 author's collections. The poems have been translated into 34 languages of the world. Honorary Figure of World Literature and Arts. Academician of three academies, head of the German branch of the SPSA, holder of the title of Maestro and the Golden Pen.
Поэт, песенник, прозаик, эссеист, Академик Международных Академий МАРЛИ и МАРС, Руководитель ГО СПСА
Tyran Prizren Spahiu, Kosovo
TRACES OF THE POET
+
dedicated to You, Dear Poet of the Lights GUIDO CHIARELLI
... I do remember even today
the blessed day, it was the end of fall
captured by the most powerful feelings
when mentioned is your name, The Guido Chiarelli
eyes wander in the library room
beautifully arranged, simple, tasteful, with love
the books are, knowledge that drunks
radiating the most glamorous lights of nobility.
*
Many times mentioned with meritorious
I read , the ballads of friends
discussed about the power, lust, the most powerful letters
analyzed the Poets of Honors.
*
In the room alone, poetry conquers
day by day
often, while drinking downtown morning coffee
most feather lovers I have never met
”are friends of my soul”, you have said
yes... in my being are carved
golden poems, generous verses
powering love, lewdness
oh… those titans of beauty, the immortality tracks...
Tyran Prizren Spahiu
KOSOVO
#lightsforthecity
Tyran Prizren Spahiu (Kosovo). Trying to find topics that worry, nag, excites, rapes, embraces, and to describe is pleasure and challenge ... Being emotionally connected letters, loves calm life he continues to spread kindness…. No matter where he goes, you will hear the voice behind: "He was here."
Joseph Bruchac, USA (Nulhegan Abenaki Nation)
First Lights
I saw the bright lights of the city
first when I was a little child
as we approached in our ‘59 Plymouth
the spinal span of the Brooklyn Bridge
that stretched over those reflecting waters
like some great sea creature drawn up
from ancient depths where the only
illumination was its own.
Half asleep as I looked out the window
of the rumbling old car, we crossed over
out of the darkness and into the newness
of a city whose lights, it seemed,
were at least as many as the stars
whose names, like those of the glowing streets
that we floated down, I had yet to learn.
Joseph Bruchac
#lightsforthecity
Joseph Bruchac (USA) is a traditional storyteller and enrolled
citizen of the Nulhegan Abenaki Nation.
Over the past 50 years his poems have appeared in hundreds of magazines and anthologies and he is
the
author of over 180 books. https://www.josephbruchac.com/
Hussein Habasch, Syria/Germany
Light ears
He climbs the fence of the fire,
pulls out a flame
and plants it
until the ears of light
grow from the face of landscape
that has become dark
from the tears of the mothers.
Hussein Habasch
#lightsforthecity
Hussein Habas (Syria/Germany) born in Afrin, Kurdistan. He studied journalism at Lomonosov University in Moscow, where he also received his doctorate (Dr. phil. in philology). In 1984 he moved to Germany, he lives and works in Bonn. H. Habasch is a poet, translator, journalist and literary scholar. He has published 23 books and some of his poems have been translated into 32 languages. He translates from seven languages into Kurdish. From 1993 to 1996 he was President of the Kurdish Pen-Centre. https://drhabasch.wordpress.com/
Meher Pestonji, India
Streetlights
Streetlights
Eyes of the night
illumine pathways
disguised by darkness
Protecting passers from pot-holes
on city streets
Enlivening greys into greens
on playing fields
Sharpening red of sleepy roses
on floral beds
From flights, eye-lights
merge into clusters
of village, town, city
with star-like twinkles
darkness left powerless
against the sparkling might
of united lights beautifying night.
Meher Pestonji, India
#lightsforthecity
Meher Pestonji (India) is a veteran journalist writing on street-kids, housing rights, communalism while covering theatre, art and interviewing creative people. She has written two novels, Pervez and Sadak Chhaap, three plays, ‘Piano for Sale’, ‘Feeding Crows’ ‘Turning Point’ and short stories. Her first collection of poems will be out shortly.
Maria Mazziotti Gillan, USA
The Lights of Manhattan
When I think of the lights of the City,
I think first, of sitting in my cousin’s living room
on the hill in Hawthorne, New Jersey
looking at the New York skyline from the double-sliding door,
the lights of the city like diamonds against the sky.
This view, whether it’s from my brother’s deck or my friend’s condo,
makes me feel really happy.
Something about it is so uplifting, so positive and hopeful,
and I can’t say why.
When I was a young woman, we would go into New York City,
a big adventure for me, who had never been anywhere much,
and driving home near midnight or after midnight,
the lights in the city behind us, the lights of the George Washington Bridge,
beautiful, beautiful, against the night sky,
so graceful, so delicate, like a woman’s breasts or string of pearls.
How happy I was to be there in that car driving back to New Jersey.
I would just see those lights,
and feel my life expanding like those lights.
In my head, I think sometimes of walking in the City
when I was younger and could still get around easily
and walking in the dark under the streetlights,
the roads in such effervescent light,
and I realize how important this light is in our lives,
how important it’s been to me in every city I’ve ever visited:
Rome, Milan, Paris, Saint Petersburg, London, Dublin,
even that city in Finland, though I can’t remember the name of it now.
I remember the lights, each city having a different ambience.
Venice—magical in the dark, Rome—so alive,
the lights on the Colosseum, on the roads, and statues, and buildings,
and then the town squares where we sat at cafés
drinking espresso, cappuccino, or limoncello,
all the lights of the cities that bathed us in their gossamer scarves.
Such beauty, such gorgeous, gorgeous moments
to carry with me into the next life and beyond.
Maria Mazziotti Gillan, USA
#lightsforthecity
Maria Mazziotti Gillan (USA), whose newest poetry collection is When the Stars Were Still Visible (2021) and more recent publication is What Blooms in Winter, is the 2008 recipient of the American Book Award for All That Lies Between Us. She is the founder and Executive Director of the Poetry Center at Passaic County Community College, Paterson, NJ. and editor of the Paterson Literary Review. She has been appointed a Bartle Professor and Professor Emerita of English and creative writing at Binghamton University-SUNY.
Martine Rouhart, Belgique
Aider le passage
La nuit tombe sur la ville
allume les maisons
les réverbères
les trottoirs mouillés
fait clignoter les rues
et les souvenirs
la nuit n'est pas seulement
l'envers du jour
on existe peut-être
encore plus fort
j’en connais
plus éblouissantes
qu'un grand soleil
pour aider le passage
voir clair en soi
Martine Rouhart
#lightsforthecity
Née en Belgique. Romancière et poète, Martine Rouhart a publié une quinzaine d’ouvrages ainsi que des poèmes et chroniques dans des revues littéraires belges et françaises, collaboré à des livres d’artiste et des ouvrages collectifs. Elle est Vice-Présidente de l’Association des Ecrivains Belges.
Ирина Шульгина - Irina Shulgina, Russia
Вечер, добрый паж
Вечер, добрый паж,
Проводи меня до дому.
Этот экипаж
Ты отдай другому.
Уличный фонарь
Нас поманит томным светом,
Солнечный янтарь
Растворив рассветом.
Песня ни о чём,
Только я, и только вечер.
Он своим лучом
Зажигает свечи.
Тонким волшебством
Он, касаясь небосвода,
В песне ни о чём
Оживляет ноты.
Долго ни о чём
Ты шептал мне улыбаясь,
И своим плечом
Нежно так меня касаясь.
Вечер, ты - мой друг
С этих пор уже навечно.
Сутки словно круг,
Встречи бесконечны.
Evening, good page,
Take me home.
This crew
You give it to someone else.
Street lamp
We will be beckoned by languid light,
Sunny amber
Dissolved by dawn.
The song is about nothing,
Just me, and only the evening.
He is his ray
Lights candles.
Subtle magic
He is touching the firmament,
The song is about nothing
Enlivens the notes.
For a long time about nothing
You whispered to me smiling,
And with your shoulder
Gently touching me like that.
Evening, you are my friend
From now on, forever.
The day is like a circle,
Meetings are endless.
Ирина Шульгина - Irina Shulgina
#lightsforthecity
Irina Shulgina: poet, composer, singer and vocal teacher. Honored Worker of Culture. Soloist of the Krasnoyarsk State Philharmonic Ensemble "KrasA". Head of the family ensemble "Sisters". Honorary Worker of Literature and Art of the International Academy of Literature and Art LIK (Germany). Academician of the Petrovsky Academy of Sciences and Arts. Academician of the International Academy for the Development of Literature and Art. Member of the International Union of Writers. Member of the Writers' Union of North America and MARLEY. Member of the Union of Songwriters of the Krasnoyarsk Territory. Author of more than 300 poems, songs in different genres and hymns! Representative of the Federation of the world community of culture and art of Singapore. I will be glad to creative friendship and cooperation and participation in your poetry projects!
Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein, Bangladesh
The Knights of the Night
I walk and pass by the street lights
As if they are the Knights
Of the nights.
Against the darkness.
They spread light
I look at the people,
Faces are clear .
The Knights guard till dawn
With the aura of safety.
I look at the Knights of the nights,
Illuminating Knights,
Stand still .
The chivalry is their light.
And there is no fight.
The darkness forfeits
It's all bleak plans.
I walk safely
With the Knights of the nights
Guarding during the night.
I gaze at the Knights
And smile .
I keep walking with the assurance.
The Knights will be there.
__________
My Artificial Moon and the Stars
As I walk through the path,
Alone ,
I look at the lake
I see the reflection of the night lamps
As if the plankton is playing
Softly,calmly .
In silence.
I try to find the moon in the sky,
And the stars.
Disappeared in the cloudy night sky.
I yearn to look at them.
I look at the lake.
I see the reflection again.
As if now the moon has ascended
With her companion stars.
Swimming in the lake water.
With the twinkling stars.
Countless ! Immaculate.
Don't be in despair, thyself.
When the night is dark and murky
No moon and the stars ,
Look at the street lamps,
Luminous and bright,
Shining and glittering in the lake water,
Giving one comfort in the cloudy night.
My artificial moon and stars
They are.
They stand still each night ,
With the assuring of light .
Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein, Bangladesh
#lightsforthecity
Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein from Dhaka Bangladesh is the 2nd Korean Expatriate Literature Poetry Award winner,2021. She is the International Fellow 2020 ,of International Human Rights Art Festival,NY,USA. She is the Bangla translator of ITHACA Foundation, Poetry Without Borders.
https://www.differenttruths.com/author/tabassum-tahmina-s-h/
Richard Doiron, Canada
Street Lights Old And New
Back in the day, the old streets
were mostly dark, but for where
two might intersect.
At such a corner, in those first few
hours after sunset, we were drawn,
rather like moths, by the magnet
of a single bulb burning, dull as
that light was.
There we met with friends and there,
also, was where two of us stole that
very first kiss - the excitement of it all!
Sure, there were some who saw us;
in effect, because of the light, we
had no real secrets on that corner.
Nowadays, meanwhile, the town has
grown so much that all corners are
ablaze with lights and meeting at any
point along the way is more a matter
of physical concern than that of
hooking up with friends or
potentially stealing a very first kiss.
I will admit, though, that today's lights
are so much more dazzling, colourful,
and aesthetically pleasing than that
corner light of old.
-Richard Doiron
#lightsforthecity
|
Richard Doiron (Canada) Canada's peace poet, published 58 years; author of 18 books, poetry & novels. Work published in over 150 anthologies; winner of numerous international literary awards. www.spiritsinpeace.com |
Manuel Renaud, France
It's sad...
It's sad tonight
through the dark and lonesome
streets
where weeps my shadow
on the pavements
its long tears there ,
fallen to the ground
It's empty tonight
Along the walls
with eyes closed
on the last terraces
a few lingered people
a few streetlights
give their glance
Pale glows
dull lights in the town
It's sad tonight
and I walk in the silence
of the night
a few more steps
before the fog
before mist makes clothes,
thick mantel of indifference,
to this world asleep...
Manuel Renaud, France
#lightsforthecity
Manuel Renaud (France). Musicien et poète. Auteur, compositeur, interprète. Multi-instrumentistes : guitare, basse, ukulélé, mandoline, percussions. Publié deux fois aux Éditions Inclinaison en français. Également publié aux Éditions Le Lys Bleu et aux Éditions Joseph Ouaknine. Publié en anglais chez Leaky Boot Press (R.U)...
Taghrid Bou Merhi, Lebanon/Brasil
THE LIGHT IS AN EXTENSION Of BEAUTY
The eyes are violet, and the night is a window overlooking the dew
The night is a phase of the distance
and the light is an extension of beauty
In your eyes, Oh night! there is a secret foretelling magic
Echoing beauty and visions to the lovers
Oh Heart! What dimension surrounds you?
If brightness was combined with twilight
Like a moon adorning itself with darkness
And the king of love invites us to his sanctuary
And the beautiful moonlight streams
To kiss the flowers, the dreams and the desires …
And Night’s stars are sleepless
How long is the lover’s night extended?
Imbibing us with the wine of his ardent love
Intoxicating us with love, light and brightness
While the dream lulling us
So the yearning and the infatuation wander
As if the lights get turned on by passion
And my heart outbursts between my ribs
As if the stars are roaming on his chest
Entertaining the eyes of the vigilantes
Snacking on the sweet dreams on top of Time’s pillow…
©® Taghrid Bou Merhi
Lebanon/Brasil
#lightsforthecity
Taghrid Bou Merhi (Lebanon/Brasil)
Lebanese Poetess, Writer, Translator.
Living in Brazil. Fluent in Arabic (native language), French, English, Portuguese, Italian and Spanish.Editor of Al-Arabi Today,Rainbow,Aghareed,Allaylak,Literary and Nile and Euphrates Magazine. Books:1. Songs of Longing.
2. The Keys of Science: Verses and Manifestations.3. Flowers Of Love .4. The Edge of The Soul.5. Wounds Of The Heart.6. Mine Is Not Mine.
Afzal Sajjad Zafir, India
Streetlight
Barbara Rotta, Italy
LA LUCE DI GUIDO CHIARELLI
Corre la luce
in un istante,
ovunque ti conduce
assorto nello studio
cammini nel buio
detti il futuro di tripudio.
Lieve chiaro il lampione
a candelabro impero
svela la luce del mistero
di un nuovo giorno
fatto di stelle
di energia che scivola sulla pelle
di una città scolpita d’inverno,
accarezzata da eterno
nella leggenda e nella storia,
che cede nel design la vittoria.
Tanta luce in fiera:
luce in una zuccheriera,
spinta in una siringa
sotto il lampione un’arringa,
sale sulla stella di metallo
mette la Mole in posizione di stallo:
sospesa, brillante
ed elegante
l’attenzione si fa costante
lo sguardo verso il cielo
lo spettacolo si fa vero.
Barbara Rotta
____
GUIDO CHIARELLI’S LIGHT
The light runs
in an instant
wherever it leads you
lost in study
walking in the darkness
you dictate the future of blaze.
The dim light chandelier post
reveals the mystery’s light
of a new day
made of stars
of energy
gliding over the skin of the city
sculpted in winter
caressed by Eternity
in myth and in history
yielding victory in design.
So much light at the fair:
Light in a sugar bowl lamp
Light in a syringe:
the plea under the streetlamp.
The light ascends on the metal star
the Mole in a stall point:
suspended, bright and elegant
the attention becomes constant
the gaze turn to the sky
the show gets real.
Barbara Rotta
#lightsforthecity
Barbara Rotta (Italy), artista, storica dell’arte, ha collaborato con numerose Gallerie d’arte e Associazioni culturali piemontesi, con artisti emergenti ed affermati, quali Mauro Chessa, Francesco Preverino, Francesco Casorati. I suoi studi e scritti sono pubblicati su cataloghi e riviste d’arte. Ha scritto Il colore dell’inganno per Yumebook. Docente in Lettere e Storia dell’arte continua il suo cammino di ricerca e scrittura di poesie e di romanzi all’insegna della sua passione per l’arte.
Maid Corbic, Bosnia ed Erzegovina
THE LIGHT OF THE ILLUMINATED CITY
I look at the whole coast around me.
It's not the same as it used to be.
because the lover suddenly disappeared
when I met myself in the shadow of darkness
I did not know the truth
and that is why I am very lonely.
and that everything I dream continues
It has never come true yet.
Maybe my doubts make sense.
because it's nice to be loved, but today
I still mourn those times.
When I have someone by my side.
I would do it right now.
just to have someone to talk to
but times have become so hard.
that no one wants to listen to my problems
I loved someone so passionately too.
but the light illuminated by this city
They are still lost in my darkness.
because love is the greatest evil that ever existed
I will save the whole world from darkness and evil.
False love, false morals and dreams
But I will never forget the sleepy eyes.
which used to follow me, but now disappeared forever because of my jealousy!
Maid Corbic
#lightsforthecity
Maid Corbic from Tuzla (Bosnia ed Erzegovina) is 22 years old. In his spare time, he writes poetry that has been praised and awarded several times. He also selflessly helps others around him and is the moderator of the WLFPH (World Literature Forum Peace and Humanity) for unity and world peace in Bhutan.