ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - Each individual poem is copyrighted - Tous droits réservés - 

Todos los derechos de autor reservados

 

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

Fine Art Photo by David Doosup Lah

Title: Long Beach Water Front at Night

 

The Light of the City

 

When I was young

I would talk to the stars.

The stars in the rural night sky

was truly beautiful.

 

People, trapped in the dark,

throughout the living days,

don't know what tedious is

and live in one place.

 

I, who like stars,

till the end of this world,

fascinated by the starlight,

have lived along with the stars.

 

The new city I have come to

has radiant light in the darkness,

that of the enchanting stars, by which

I can sleep in happiness.

 

 

 by Yoon-Ho Cho, South Korea

 

#lightsforthecity

 

 

Yoon-Ho Cho is a poet, born in South Korea, in 1938. He made his literary debut in 1963 by winning the New Writer’s Award from Jayu Munhak literary magazine. He has published seven books of poetry, including The Love of an Apple Tree, and The Light of Love. He is a recipient of many awards, including the 2017 Korean-American Poet Association of Literature Award, an Honorable Mention for his poem "Light of Love" at the International poetry Contest, held by the poetry group Immagine & Poesia, Amici de Guido Cozzano, and Comune de Aglie. He is both an editor and the publisher of Korean Expatriate Literature and International Modern Poetry.

 

 

 

Perdenti

 

Al crepuscolo,

in attesa che passi l'ultima sera

occhi pieni di dolore,

dimentichi del peccato.

Come ubriachi d'estraniamento

per le speranze lasciate alle spalle

per la primavera nei loro occhi.

Le ferite rubate alla nuova stagione

esalano estenuante esilio.

 

Questo accade ai perdenti alla fine,

quando l'ultimo sentiero chiude le porte

e non ci sono parole per loro

né il vino a dare conforto.

Non urla ormai la memoria

serrata dietro una soglia.

Meglio se i loro sogni

fossero rimasti su carta

in un cassetto.

 

ــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــ

Traduzione in italiano a cura di Claudia Piccinno

 

 #lightsforthecity

 

Ali Al-Hazmi (Saudi Arabia)

 

Multi-Awarded Poet

Nato a Damadd, Arabia Saudita, nel 1970.

Già nel 1985, il poeta iniziò a pubblicare poesie.

Il poeta ha partecipato a una serie di recital di poesie, tra cui:

Festival Internazionale di Poesia, Costa Rica 2013. Toledo, Spagna 2014. Punta del Este, Uruguay 2015, Madrid, Spain 2016. Havana, Cuba 2016. Medellín, Colombia 2016, Istanbul , Turkey, 2016, Roma 2017, Romania 2017, Madrid, Spain 2017, Malaga, Spain 2018.

 

 

City lights

 

Our hands were moving,

looking for a sudden smile

of hidden flowers.

Visiting ancient shadows,

drinking the liquor of happiness,

we were just longing, yearning,

— amethysts shining,

our hands moving,

our hearts wondering,

the blue moon breaking.

- our eyes shining bright,

with the neon

of the city lights.

 

Maria do Sameiro Barroso (Portugal)

 

#lightsforthecity

 

 

 

Maria do Sameiro Barroso (Portugal) is a medical doctor, a Germanist and a multilingual and awarded poet, translator, essayist and researcher in Portuguese and German Literature,

Translations Studies and History of Medicine.

 

 

Artistes et lumières de la ville

 

Les artistes vivent la nuit

Sous les projecteurs ou

Sous les réverbères
Certains d’entre eux montent sur scène

Et brillent sous les feux de la rampe

Mais d'autres un saxo

Un violon ou une guitare à la main
S'installent
Dans la rue d'en face 
adossés au mur

Le réverbère diffuse une lumière pale

 

Ils jouent des airs à la mode
Devant des passants inconnus
Plus absents que présents
Quelques pièces par-ci
Quelques pièces par-là

Sont lancées dans

Un vieux chapeau

Qui traine sur le sol

Lumières de la ville
Sur qui brillez-vous ?

Guido Chiarelli ton ingéniosité et

Ton goût de l’esthétique étaient

Une bénédiction pour les artistes sans nom

Repose en paix et

Que la lumière divine t’inonde !

 

 

Mariem Garaali , Tunisie

 

Hommage à Guido Chiarelli à l’occasion de son 120ème anniversaire, l’homme qui a illuminé la ville de Turin de ses conceptions futuristes dans les années 50/60, non seulement ils illuminent et décorent une ville , mais les réverbères de Chiarelli rendent un grand service aux passants, artistes et autres d’où mon poème.

 

#lightsforthecity

 

Mariem Garaali Hadoussa,native de Nabeul (Tunisie), activiste dans la société civile depuis trois décennies. Artiste plasticienne depuis deux décennies, elle a à son compte 11 expositions personnelles. A reçu plusieurs prix nationaux et internationaux comme artiste et illustratrice de revues.
Elle est aussi poète et a publié trois recueils.

 

 

La extraña luz en la Ciudad de México

 

 

El 24 de octubre de 1789

en la casa de Dongo

las paredes de Donceles 88 se tiñeron

de una muerte espesa

 

Fue tanta la celebración de sangre y homicidio

once las muertas y los muertos

tan terrible los degollamientos

y el destazadero de cráneos sobre las viejas baldosas

que la ciudad se vio de pronto envuelta

en una confusa modernidad

 

A pesar de ello, o quizá por esto,

se hizo la luz

 

Fue cuando se habló de la necesidad

de alumbramientos

entre plazas y cafés de la Ciudad de México

 

Se habló mucho

 

En el año 1887, Nikola Tesla

soñó un arco voltaico

y funciones espectaculares

entre públicos sombríos

y un resplandor de éxtasis

 

México dormía porfirianamente,

mientras tanto,

en un oxímoron de fe ciega

y ondas luminosas

 

A pesar de ello, o quizá por esto, se hizo la luz

 

Luego fue el paraíso

Llegaron la linterna mágica

la dramática luz de las farolas

Los paseos y las marquesinas radiantes

de los cines y teatros

 

San Juan de Letrán resplandeció de vida

La ciudad se vistió de gala

por la noche

 

Hubo esplendor…

 

¿Será entonces que

después de tanta promesa sin retorno

hemos encontrado

una oscuridad profunda

en una urbe llena de pixeles?

 

¿Por qué tanta sombra?

 

Quizá

es tiempo de volver a las viejas ilusiones

los antiguos asombros…

 

Quizá, a pesar de nosotros,

o por encima de ello,

aún es tiempo

 

de que se haga la luz.

 

Ulises Paniagua, México

 

#lightsforthecity

 

Ulises Paniagua (México, 1976)

 

Narrador, poeta y dramaturgo. Ganador del Concurso Internacional de Cuento de la Fundación Gabriel García Márquez, en Colombia (2019). Fue entrevistado por Silvia Lemus, en el año 2020, en el programa “Tratos y retratos” de Canal 22. Incluido en la antología internacional bilingüe “Puente y Precipicio”, publicada en Rusia, bajo la selección de Natalia Azarova y Dmitriy Kuzmin (2019). Es autor de dos novelas, nueve libros de cuentos y cuatro poemarios. Ha sido divulgado en antologías, revistas y diarios nacionales e internacionales, incluyendo Nocturnario, El búho, Círculo de poesía, Nexos, Punto en línea, Anestesia, El Sol de México, Ígitur, Letralia, Nueva York Poetry, Altazor, Algarabía y Jus. Es parte del catálogo de autores del INBAL. Ha sido conductor en Radio Anáhuac, Radio Sogem y Radio IPN (95.7 FM). Es director, creador y fundador del Coloquio Internacional de Poesía y Filosofía (respaldado por el Fondo de Cultura Económica). Publicado en la Academia Uruguaya de Letras, en España, Italia, Perú, Argentina y Venezuela, su obra ha sido traducida al inglés, ruso, griego, serbio, checo e italiano. 

СОКРИЕНА ЉУБОВ

 

Погледни ги нашиве сенки

во оваа темна ноќ мила,

само тие ни се сведоци

затоа што ѕвездите

веќе одамна си отидоа,

во своите домови,

во оваа ноќ

ни треба еден бакнеж топол

што ќе ја разгали

таа неискажена душа твоја,

која секогаш се истакнува

кога ќе заглавиме во темнината,

додека светлото милување

не следи само кога

некаде ќе сме во нашиот град,

покрај некои остарени улици

каде светилките

ни се ко украсена писта,

по која треба да се прошетаме

и да ја означиме нашата љубов.

Затоа во оваа ноќ

што ќе биде незаборавна

погледни ги нашите истакнати сенки,

нека со нив ја дочекаме и зората

која ќе ни подари

прегратка што ќе се запамети

и ќе ни биде вечен спомен,

со кого ќе си ја китиме

староста што ќе не урами

во средината на времето кое не старее,

кое пак ќе не потсети

на некогашните седенки,

каде смеењето се движело

како ветар кој сите ридови

ги пука и ги спрема

за некое неочекувано невреме,

затоа ноќта сега нека биде наша

љубена моја гулабице.

Сети се во оваа ноќ

дека сами со темната завеса,

на небото сме

и со нашите оцртени сенки,

кои го красат

тоа наше несекојдневно место

и се изгледа,

како тишина што спие

и во најбучните времиња,

каде ништо неможе

да ја пробрка

затоа што таа си има посебна моќ,

така сега звучи

и нашата сокриена љубов...

 

Автор:Оливер Глигоров

Autore: Oliver Gligorov

 

Oliver Gligorov, Republic of North Macedonia

Оливер Глигоров, од Северна Македонија, од градот Струмица

Поет, автор, музичар и пеач

Вљубеник во творештвото  https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100077835396379

 

 

 

DRAWN INTO THE IDEA OF LIGHT

 

I haven’t written for years, about lights, about darkness,

About the colour of trampled flowers of fresh thoughts

At voyages through passion,

About naked souls in front of the hell’s door,

And pictures of nameless people,

as I was looking at us…

 

Like a paragraph, drawn into the idea of ideal ending,

I was breaking down.

 

Left to wait, I was in no rush,

For, where could I have gone, abandoned and silent?

In the people’s eyes, alone, I was going round and round and

I was not free to sing, to think

About love!

 

Autor: Vesna V. Maksimović, Kragujevac, Serbia

Translator: Katarina Denić, Kragujevac, Serbia

 

#lightsforthecity

 

 

Vesna V. Maksimović, painter, poet (1972, Kragujevac, Serbia). She is the author of four collections of poetry. She is painting on silk. She was a participant in art colonies, solo and collective exhibitions of paintings in the country and abroad. https://vesnamaksimovic.rs/  

 

 

Lips that kiss themselves

 

It's night, the city is sleeping

the street lamp lights up,

it's humid,

it rained last night.

 

The sidewalk shines as if under ice

in the darkness, in which everything is little

discerns.

 

I'm the only one standing

and I'm looking at your window.

Shall I call you?

 

That window is illuminated.

 

They say, lips can't

kiss on their own

but mine can, in my mind,

to our kisses.

I feel tenderness

i feel tingling...kissing...

 

It's night, the city is sleeping

and I want to tell you a lot,

which I kept silent.

 

City lights flicker in the distance,

it's quiet,

the stars are obscured

by dark clouds,

the Moon is in the fog.

My eyes are blurry,

I cry,

I go into the night

down the street,

in silence.

I leave everything behind

and lighted window.

 

Tanja Ajtic, Canada

 

#lightsforthecity

 

 

Tanja Ajtic from Canada is a poet, writer and a freelance artist. Her poems have been published in 200 collections, anthologies, and magazines in eight languages. She has published a book of poetry "Contours of Love". She does artistic graphics that have been published in books, magazines.

 

GÖKKUŞAĞIYDI SENİNLE ŞEHRİN IŞIKLARI...

 

Ben yanarım

Sen yanarsın

Ve şehrin gökkuşağı yanar

 

Ay gecede parlar

Ta uzaklardan karanlığı ateşe veren benim

Mor şafakları boyayan benim

 

Umudu şehrin ışıklarına yazdım

Balıkçı takalarına yükledim ümitleri

Bir de güvercin sürülerine şiirleri

 

Halikarnasos’tan uçurdum güvercinleri

Göç etti Toroslara Avşar Yörükleri

Tüfekleri çatmış Türkmen Beyleri

 

Belleğimizde gizleriz sırları anıları

Ve gizleriz kaderimizi

Sıkılmış bir yumruk gibi

 

Kim karıştırdı beni bu yaşamın akışına

Kendime bir türlü gelemiyorum Leonardo

Ve soruyorum

Nedir o dudağını  ucundaki belli belirsiz gülümseme Lisa

 

Belki benim paltom eski

Pantulum yamalı

Ayakkabımın altı delik

 

Ama sana öyle bir hayat dersi veririm ki

Kimseden bunları öğrenemezsin bak

 

Ne büyük felakettir seni unutmak

Salkım söğüttü suya öpücükler konduran

Senin her şeyindi benimkilere karışan

 

Güneşin batışını yavaşça izliyorsun

Ve birden karanlığa gömülüyorsun

 

Kimsesiz kederli sürgün ve hüzünlü çocukları ülkemin

Gururlu ve yalnız ülkemiz sizi bekliyor

Bağrına kızıl bir kor gibi basmak için

 

Ağustosta gelin

Şimal rüzgarlarıyla

Şen serin yağmurlar getirin

 

Bilmediğimiz dillerde bize selam getirin

Öfkeli masum masalsı bir maceradır bu hayat

 

Söyle seni hangi derviş hırkasına sarayım gönlümün hey hat

 

Bir ağıt feryadı yükselir çınlar geceden

Bir ayrılık türküsü yakar ülkemi ezelden

 

Bu kederli ve hüzünlü bir sevda haykırışıdır

Bu deli duygular karışımıdır

 

Kızıl alevli ateşi yanar evlatlarımın bağrımda

Van Gogh’un mavi yıldızlı geceleriyle bekliyorum seni

Ve koynumda sarı ayçiçekleri

 

Anadolu’da bir köy mezarlığında

Uyarına geldi de bir çınarla bekliyorum

Nâzım’la sizleri

 

Binlerce yiğit evladının adını sayabilirim

Bak camlarda sizi bekliyoruz

Bak kapılarımız çocuk

 

Şehrin ışıklarına yazdım ben seni

Balıkçı takalarına yükledim ümitleri

Bir de güvercin sürülerine şiirleri...

 

Adil BAŞOĞUL...

 

 

IT WAS A RAINBOW WITH YOU THE LIGHTS OF THE CITY...

 

I  burn

You burn

And the city's rainbow lights up

 

The moon shines in the night

I'm the one who set the darkness on fire from far away

I'm the one who paints the purple dawns

 

I wrote hope in the city lights

I loaded hopes on fishermen's tacks And his poems to flocks of pigeons

 

I flew the pigeons from Halicarnassus Avşar Nomads migrated to the Taurus Mountains Turkmen Beys with their rifles raised

 

We hide secrets in our memory, memories

And we hide our destiny like a clenched fist

Who mixed me into the flow of this life

I can't come to my senses Leonardo And I'm asking

What is that faint smile on the tip of your lip, Lisa?

 

Maybe my coat is old

My pantsuit is patched hole in my shoe But I'll give you such a life lesson

 

You can't learn this from anyone

What a disaster to forget you

Cucumber willow planting kisses on the water

 

Your everything was mixed with mine You slowly watch the sun go down

 

And suddenly you're plunged into darkness

Lonely sad exile and sad children of my country

Our proud and lonely country awaits you

 

To embrace you like a red ember come in august with the north winds

Bring merry cool rains

Say hello to us in languages we don't know

 

This life is an angry innocent fairy tale adventure

Tell me which dervish cardigan should

I wrap you in, my heart hey hat

 

A cry of lament rises from the night

A parting song burns my country from eternity

 

It's a sad and sad cry of love

It's a mix of crazy feelings

 

The red-flaming fire burns in the bosom of my children

I'm waiting for you with Van Gogh's blue starry nights

And yellow sunflowers in my bosom

İn a village cemetery

in Anatolia

It came to your warning

 

I'm waiting with a plane tree with Nâzım I can name a thousand valiant sons Look, we are waiting for you at the windows

 

Look, our doors are children

I wrote you in the city lights

I loaded hopes on fishermen's tacks And his poems to flocks of pigeons...

 

 

Adil BAŞOĞUL, Turkey

 

#lightsforthecity

 

 

Adil BAŞOĞUL was born in Inece, Kırklareli and graduated from Istanbul University. He worked as a journalist for the newspaper Günaydın for 4 years in Istanbul. Now he works in the fields of philosophy, sociology, psychology, personal development, art and literature. He writes  especially poetry, book reviews, literature, poetry articles and aphorisms. His poems, articles and book reviews have been published in many literary journals.

 

Over the water

 

Not borrowing a line from 

That song, 'everything is 

Hotter when the sun goes down',

Though it so brings 

A Mexican sunset alive! 

With the twilight zone 

When the lights play a Game

Of rhythmical dance 

Unique each day, till all is 

Dark, and like magic, the

Towns, cities and villages 

Get a second life, lamps 

And bulbs, tubes and what

Not, shine, lit up, Illuminating the night

Defining the place 

The skyline, human sight 

Vision , thought and imagination!

Ah! The Eiffel Tower lit up 

Nicer than the day view !

So famous are some cities

By the lights, they are abandoned, during the day! 

 

Memorable are the lights 

Of the twin cities 

LikeThessaloniki from Noussa

Mirik from Darjeeling

It’s a long list!

 

Then there are lit-up cities

Larger than themselves

New York at night

Lights of Hudson Bay

Sleepless in Seattle

Big Ben after dark!

 

Many places to celebrate victory

Over night, no we shall not pause!

Neither ponder, but may I request

One more time

To please consider

Being somewhat frugal!

Saving some energy!

Doing a wire-transfer of electricity!

To the parts of the world

Experiencing power outage

Load shedding, black outs

Transformer failure, persistent

Power cuts, and my dears

Many are such regions

Remember them while standing

Before a glittering sky-scraper!

 

 

-----------Pankhuri Sinha, India

 

#lightsforthecity

 

Pankhuri Sinha. Bilingual poet, story writer and translator from India. Two poetry collections published in English, two story collections published in Hindi, six poetry collections published in Hindi, and many more are lined up. Has been published in many journals, anthologies, home and abroad. She has won many prestigious, national-international awards and has been translated in over twenty seven languages.

She  studied in Delhi University, Symbiosis Pune, SUNY Buffalo, and  the University of Calgary, Canada. She  worked in various positions as a journalist, lecturer and a content editor. Has done writing residencies in Hungary and Bulgaria, and attended the Tranas Literature Festival in Sweden. 

 

 

 

Montréal Desjardinisée

(poème hommage à Montréal et à Richard Desjardins)

 

 

Dans le ciel qui commence

à être étoilé

 

des montagnes à étages

clignotent

éclairent la nuit

nos doutes

 

le fleuve immense

de paquebots géants

rivalise avec le ballet somptueux

de fourmis multicolores

ces chevaux endiablés

sous le capot

toujours prêts à rugir

 

la forêt boréale

en coton

de réverbères

accouchent de fleurs d'asphalte

sur les massifs de la faune éclectique

 

des oiseaux de métal

subrepticement

survolent les sentiers d'acier

accrochés aux tanières

des blocs appartements

aux fenêtres en feu

soulignent la cérémonie

des jardins électriques

dessinent un drapeau

à damier

comme une voie lactée

 

des rivières d'alcool

coulent dans les veines

comme des lucioles

dans nos obscurités

 

sous le vent tremblant

et le temps compté

une tour s'épanche

 

des toiles d'araignées

aériennes

nous relient

comme des guirlandes de beauté

 

Montréal

une croix illumine encore

l'horizon

nos espaces anthracite

les âmes égarées

par un voyage de pensées

et de folies

qui débute

sur la colline du lac aux Castors

jusqu'à l'aurore

qui sera initiale.

 

 

Christophe Condello, Canada

 

#lightsforthecity

 

Christophe Condello a publié 7 recueils de poésie et est apparu dans 2 anthologies. 2022 :1er prix littéraire de la revue La Bonante, (Université du Québec à Chicoutimi) et 2ème prix Max Rouquier. Il est directeur littéraire Chez Pierre Turcotte Éditeur.

Son blogue poétique : christophecondello.wordpress.com