Milena Sušnik Falle, 7 may 2013
Tvegamo –
gotovo za negotovo,
lepimo koščke priseg
v mozaik odrešenja,
razmetavamo besede,
ki sladkobno
silijo v razum,
v preganjanju konca k začetku,
da bi hrepenenju ustvarili
lahkotna krila.
Tvegamo –
govorico nemoči
dokončanih zgodb,
ljubezni mečemo v ogenj
senčnega spomina,
z izgubljenim
grejemo samoto,
poravnavamo pozabo,
da nas ne bi silno
spremenila.
Tvegamo -
iskanje doline sonca,
brez stez, cest,
ki bi v svet vodila -
oviti v pregrinjalo vere,
za trhlimi stebri nečutnosti
skrivamo pravi obraz;
besede ne celijo ran,
zapahi svojih zmot
so nam jih oddaljila.
Milena Sušnik Falle - Slovenija
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
Each of my forefathers stood their man
and in the evening with a Bible they sat around a table,
from the dark early hours they did already farm
and they stayed trusting the heavenly Father.
Now I do wonder where everything is going
while I dig in my own small garden,
while with sunny eyes my wife watches me
and wavering I do try and cling to the hand of God.
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
Far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out
and in the roar I could not hear myself shout;
far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out,
far too many enemies were coffined in
the endless din, in walls of steel and tin;
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out.
Far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out
and in the roar I could not hear myself shout;
far too many enemies were coffined in.
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
A news editor do not pray for good things
as misfortune, terrible things are headline news.
An unusual sudden flood, a tornado that destroys,
people dying gruesome somewhere else
draws readers and more and more newspapers are sold.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Never do our feelings seem to abate
and even summer at its prime
at times against our passion seems temperate
and yet they may grow more intense in time
as between us nothing is just moderate
and the intensity seems like a sin or a crime
while daily we do grow more affectionate.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Never do our feelings seem to abate
and even summer at its prime
at times against our passion seems temperate
and yet they may grow more intense in time
as between us nothing is just moderate
and the intensity seems like a sin or a crime
while daily we do grow more affectionate.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Our intimate joy, the great tenderness
has something much deeper than just gratefulness
and in every touch when were are in bliss
it’s as if we are truly one in each caress.
Satish Verma, 6 may 2013
Will the shouts work
on blood seeds in climate of conflicts?
Winter was shrinking.
Give me a hand.
I am going to invite clouds softly.
Let the drumming start.
War has broken out
on many fronts
for a god, for the grains
and for the golden gates.
Where shall we plant
the sacred tulsi?
You need a holy soil for that.
The transliteration of a famished lake
throws a foul smell.
Will you be able to walk
on the ice again?
Outside the climate of change?
Satish Verma
Satish Verma, 5 may 2013
O pink horse, O timeless sun,
run on my body, run. Black magic
had pierced the needles into my heart.
Lying on nails to wrest a superearth
from amnesty, I start bandaging the bruised
ethos of my native conscience
on the spike of a violence, refusing
to give up my home to fire, tending
the voiceless flora of a virgin rock.
The questions stand up, against
the black walls of silence. The blue birds
are going to fly in white desert.
Satish Verma
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