#translated
Dovrei essere proprio come te, Cuore di ghiaccio nero, Sii gentile, Un amico, come creare un'illusione, nella tua mente, sii vicino, fingi di essere reale, un modo per conoscere, i tuoi sogni, i tuoi piani, la tua prossima mossa ,
Quando vedo le tue aspirazioni, che ti portano avanti,
Essendo un maestro manipolatore, come te, pianificherò astutamente la tua caduta, come un giullare, ridendo con la folla, che sono convinto che tu sia sempre stato, nient'altro che quello di un immutabile intimidito.
Sei davvero solo un codardo, hai paura di qualcuno, fai solo uno sforzo per fare ciò che è meglio, hai paura di qualcuno, che non è nemmeno una minaccia per te, o per la posizione che occupi.
Dimostra la tua superiorità, fiducia in te stesso, essendo orgogliosamente audace! Il tuo orgoglio, la tua arroganza, la tua ignoranza, la tua cecità e la tua ipocrisia...
NO, non potrei mai essere come te, rovinando gli altri come fai tu, pensavo di essere lo sciocco, ora vedo, ora ** pace.
Quindi prego sinceramente. "Dio apri il suo cuore, per accettare la tua grazia straordinaria, attraverso di te, conosceremo entrambi la nostra parte, il nostro posto, e se non presto, allora in Paradiso, avremo
un'eternità da rifare. "Sì, ti amo sorella mia in Cristo!
- VenJencie Ⓒ Autore Ven J. Arnold
Nov 10, 2021
Nov 10, 2021 at 11:26 PM UTC
H*ow is it that you have written a story about me
without even knowing me
How is it that you have translated my feelings
which I have no idea about
How is it that there are hundreds of words I've never used
describing my thoughts exactly
You have drawn me with a single stroke of brush
a replica the mirror can never make
is this my imagination or your imagination
who is creating me*?
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 6:40 AM UTC
I wanted to scream
While my mouth is closed
Like a concealive bullet.
To cry deeply
To look for a cat:
And sing for it sadly at least;
Put my face in the lab of my palms and shake:
Forward .. backward
Forward.. backward
Like a mother
who lost her daughter, suddenly.
Farewell is an idea;
A growing shrunb of evil.
You think it a flower;
Telling yourself:
She is being grow a bit,
and stay with me,
Bright forever.
..
sun vis-a-vis sun
rose vis-a-vis a rose
Song vis-a-vis song
Heart vis-a-vis heart
Cry vis-a-vis hug
A smile vis-a-vis stumple.
But the trees of Loss
Have black long fingers.
In the beginning:
They gently touch your fingers
-as if it is a begining of a hug,
Or a kiss on the wrist-
The fingers intertwine
Like two lovers who would walk
till the the borders .. of the sea.
And gradually
Everything glows
One by one
Until you sit alone
Face to face;
Contemplating the mirror of fire
Until you both turn into
ashes.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 10:33 AM UTC
Keep your catty heart
in the cold chest of yours.
Wipe out the tears made of iron.
With an ivory on the wall
carve my name - if you can,
inbuilt it, if you can, with a piece
of an fading memory.
Throw it away, if you can,
in the traces of the ocean waves.
Ghost of an caged memory in an amber.
The time can not touch it.
The ocean can not wash it away.
He is left to sleep in an sandglass long time ago.
A catty heart -
cold hands on the wall.
Eyes - gazing in the wistful silence
Thoughts - drown in the ocean
Knees - on the floor they're leaning
Heart - left to burn in the fire,
In the blue flames
Tears of molten iron
With an ivory my name on the wall has been carved,
to remind has been left
In the traces of the ocean waves his mind is wandering
in an sandglass
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 12:55 PM UTC
The moments....
Slip like the sand
Never come back
Hurt like the eye dust
Pass like a caravan
Err in the seconds
Punish for years
Fluid like the streams
Yet stuck in breath
Fragrant like the flowers
Scatter like the petals
People say no comeback
Yet peep in the thoughts and dreams
रेत की तरह फिसलते लम्हे
लौट के कहाँ आ सके लम्हे
धूल की तरह आँख में चुभे
कारवां रहे गुज़रते लम्हे
दी सज़ा मुझे साल की कई
बार बार क्यों ज़ुल्म करते लमहे
धार में बहे वक़्त की रवां
साँस में मग़र अटकते लमहे
महकते रहे फूल से खिले
पंखुड़ी बने बिखरते लमहे
लौटते नहीं लोग ये कहें
ख़ाब ख़्याल में झाँकते लम्हे
स्वरचित
जुगनु
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
من میں ڈوبوں
ابھروں نہ
ڈھونڈوں خود کو
ملے خدا
ذات کے پنجرے
میں روح قید
ٹوٹے تالا
ملے پتہ !! ۰۰
God and Me (translation)
drown in the depths of soul
and never resurface
I was set to find myself
yet ended up finding God
My soul is caged
in confinement of my body
break the lock
So I can find myself
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 11:29 AM UTC
Filipino:
Ang sumusulat -
Lumalamig ang puso,
Nag-iisa lang.
Damdaming tinatago -
Nagsusulat ng tanka.
English:
The person writing -
Her heart is getting colder,
She's isolated.
Her feelings are her secrets -
She is writing a tanka.
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
فقدتُ اهتمامي بكلّ شيء، يرتديني الضجر، و لا صبر لي لانتظار النهايات، أو الاستماع لأحدهم يتحدثُ عن يومه. أبترُ مقطوعة موسيقية لأبدأ من وسط أُخرى، أكتفي بمشاهدة عشر دقائق من الأفلام، أقرأ صفحةً من كلّ كتابٍ بجانب سريري، و لا أجلسُ في مكان واحد لما يزيد عن دقيقتين.
I no longer care about anything.
boredom covers my body, and I can't even be patient enough to wait for the end, any end, or to hear you talking about your day.
I cut one peace of music to start from the middle of another one. I watch 10 minutes from each movie and read a page from each book on my desk.
I can't stay in one place for more than two minutes.
And I'm bored. I'm bored with people, life, and myself.
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
HESIONE*
Shut in her room with the scent of roses
pounded with wet stones
picked one by one from the riverbank and shining still,
Hesione struggled to remove the clasps
which she placed on a piece of cloth weaved by her grandma.
Days later she lay in bed wrapped in a sacred vestment.
Secret hopes torpedoed her body
and for a moment removed the clasps from the groin.
All worthless.
People were buried nearby.
The freshly-dug graves smelled of tamarisks.
She and the Thoans scanned the sea.
Nothing reminded one of who she was and why she mourned.
She forgot all about Hercules, thurifications and joys never to be.
Now all worthless.
POEM FORM THE COLLECTION SALUADER
BY MARIA PANOUTSOU TRANSLATED IN ENGLISH BY GIANNIS GOUMAS
Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
I’ll start again from the first footprints, the first nail scratches.
Sand-hewn swirls surrounded by spume.
On high, winged things pillory the truth.
Would that a wish rinsed human nature,
and the body of clay emitted bars of gold of devotional gifts
My short skirt hides my groin, snow-white and plump
with fine pink folds, soft and damp, with a dripping light
The soles’ throbbing beats time, restless beat
by pacing to and fro along the pavement.
Let us all together pitch into the waking sound,
each one a dead drunk Lazarus
On the table a slice of bread cut by an unknown hand,
and a jug of water standing in motion
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 6:44 AM UTC
I have no words
But only feelings
That I am roughly gulped
Like breezy air
After dipping in the sea.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
yes, i move, i live, i make mistakes;
water that flows and blends, i feel
the fierce vertigo of movement:
smell the jungles, touch new earth.
yes, i move, i search for anything
suns, auroras, storms and forgetting.
why are you here wretched and worn?
you are the rock that i pass by.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Jeg kendte til mystiske væsner
Mærkværdige fabeldyr
nogle man aldrig har hørt om før
nogle der ikke kan beskrives med ord
Jeg blev budt velkommen af mange
men der var nogen der var forunderlige
de var nærmest som skygger, der krydsede folks veje
uden at møde nogen
Jeg lod dem vandre, for hvad ville der ske hvis man talte til dem
Måske forsvinde, det var hvad jeg havde hørt
Man bør aldrig forstyrre en skyggegænger
de går i cirkler, men vender aldrig tilbage til samme sted
Jeg ved ikke, hvor de forsvandt hen
Jeg ser dem aldrig mere
Jeg havde hørt det ville ske, at det sker for alle
Jeg håber de har det godt
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC