Daily Archives: September 3, 2017

David Santulli: “Nakhchivan, kulturni kapital Azerbajdžana” – by Peter Tase / Translation in the language of Bosnia and Herzegovina by: Dr. Sc. Sabahudin Hadžialić

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David Santulli: “Nakhchivan, kulturni kapital Azerbajdžana”   Autor: Peter Tase Islamski svijet ima tri glavna pokretača  umjetničkog izražavanja i takvo kulturno bogatstvo može biti izuzetno cijenjeno u Autonomskoj Republici Nakhchivan (Azerbajdžan), i sve njegove umjetničke komponente, uključujući: arhitekturu (Ajami Nakhchivani, … Continue reading →

Poezi nga Eloi Xhani

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Poezi nga Eloi Xhani     Reflektim!   …thonë që në këtë botë, na paska lumturi. Mirë, dakort, po ku dreqin qënka, ku, … …mos vallë, në veshjet tuaja, në ngërrdheshjet e juaja, apo në haretë gazmore, kunshfryni e haninsimkafshë, … Continue reading →

Tahera Mannan

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Tahera Mannan
 
Premium member of International Poets’ Group. Assistant Professor on Adhoc basis at Women’s Technical College, LAD, Nagpur. Former Assistant Professor of English at Anjuman College of Engineering and Technology, former Head of the English Department at Edify School (IB) and former Head of the Department of Social Sciences at Sandipani (CBSE) with B.Tech, B.Ed., B.A., M.A. (English Literature) and PhD (English) ongoing. Worked as a media consultant for Anjuman College of Engineering and Tech. Worked as content writer for the blog ‘Dark Secrets’, journals ‘Literaria’. Worked as a Media Consultant at South Central Zone Cultural Centre. Product of St. Joseph’s Convent and L.A.D. College, Nagpur.
 
 
The Immortal Spirit
 
Deep into the night
Sitting under soft light
My eyes weary and tired
Waiting for the morning bright
 
I waited for him to come
My senses all numb
The fire grown cold
Life about to succumb
 
Softly the eyelids met
Like hands folded in debt
The dust flew into the air
When my head met the net
 
In a dream I saw his face
My lips muttered grace
The immortal spirit is alive
When my eyes met his gaze
 
I live within you
His warm voice grew
A light in my bosom shone
When my mind the meaning knew
 
Strength flowed into my heart
I got ready to start
A new day with his love
Of which I was a tiny part.
 
 
 
Dancing with Flowers
 
As I danced with flowers on that morn fair
And stepped on green moss, floating on air
You watched from under the pine green
Fire in your eyes, the air serene
 
Face flushed, arms extended wide
In and out with blooms on both side
Flirtiest breeze caressing the untamed hair
Enchanting aroma of wildflowers on the air
 
I paused as you came near
Shining eyes a hint of fear
A yellow bloom you stuck to my breast
The tingle in my toes reached my chest
 
Whimsical, wonderful our dance entwined
Rhythm unseen, hands tightly twined
Shimmering flowers with dew or sweat
As raindrops fall, we are wet.
 
 
 
The Tamarind’s Call
 
In the quiet luminous morning
I heard the tamarind call
Touching the rough bark so ageing
Felt its heart rise and fall
 
A drop of dew sizzled on the leaf
Majestically rising in the sunlight
Tasting the silence so brief
Shining like little emeralds bright
 
Beneath the coolest shadows sleep
Even the ants silence keep
Peeping from his bark hollow
The mongoose in a line follow
 
The liquid colourful light
That the tamarind passed to me
Filled my heart with delight
As it flew to eternity.
 
 
 
The Epiphany in the Night
 
Oh, terrible night
You’ve brought with you such dark horrors
of one that’s passed me by,
and now roams around the corridors
of my mind in sleep
and even when I’m awake
Oh, terrible night
How can I forget when her name was on the door plaque?
 
Oh, horrible night
You’ve taught me how to leave my love
and shed real tears on her passing away
Though whenever I see the dove
that silently coos thru the night
I know she is there
Oh, horrible night
How can I not need her when I miss her care?
 
Oh, stormy night
You’ve brought such sweet despair
that I can’t regret the starry sky
The worst thing I can’t compare
getting over her not being there
I can feel it in my mind
Oh, stormy night
How can I not love her guiding hand?
 
Oh, quiet night
I can feel her in my heart
Her smiling face gentle and serene
getting ready to depart
I’m afraid she won’t me mine,
as I’m not hers anymore
Oh, quiet night
How do I control these musings crowding evermore?
 
Oh, humble night
You’ve made me realise her worth,
her true place beside Him
blooming under his divine mirth
She is at rest and happy,
my very own guiding star
Oh, humble night
Do you think it’s she shining that far?
 
Dedicated to the memory of my Grandmother
 
 
 
Magnificence of the Tiger
 
As twilight draws its curtain
And pins it with a star
I stand near the water basin
Waiting for the jungle’s Tsar
 
Silently on soft padded feet
Came the mighty beast
Bamboos bowed in reverence to greet
The tiger eating his feast
 
His fiery eyes looked around
Standing proud on his jungle throne
The prey dare not make a sound
Although I was chilled to the bone
 
His grace and powerful beauty
And the mystic fire that burns within
It’s our need and foremost duty
To save this magical animal and its kin.
 
 
 
The Arabian
 
He came riding thru the south wind
An Arabian so white and so pure
Rich mystery and wildness in him seem combined
His ancient eyes held a magical lure
 
A bond of trust, so strong, so rare
I shared with this desert wanderer
He was an answer to my humble prayer
An able partner to this adventurer
 
He flew without wings on this hot land
Talking with spirits all around
His own master, under his own command
The mark on his head glistened like a crown
 
Prophets and seers on this ancient breed did ride
An honour to be chosen by this revered guide.
 
 
 
The Gypsy Man
 
The gypsy man went down the lane
In sunshine and in rain
Singing his melodious song
All the weary day long
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
 
Sweet smiles he had in his bag
And a bright blue flag
Laughter he spread around
In him love abound
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
 
The pain in his voice
Was hidden from prying eyes
He filled hearts with cheer
Kids looked to him without fear
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell
 
At night the lonely gypsy man
Without a friend or fan
Sat helpless and sad
With his arm around his sick lad
Along with his sweet bell
And the music from his shell.
 
 
 
Triumph of the Soul
 
As I wandered alone without a task
All around me wild flowers sprang forth
My face a sad contorted mask
 
Of emotionless strife since birth
My eyelids closed against the day
Enjoying the fall of darkness on my Earth
 
But the sun tried to spread its ray
The sweet smelling fruit kissed my head
As beneath the mighty mango tree I lay
 
The deep red scars on my heart fled
When a strange melody in my fancy grew
And the balm of stillness on my limbs spread
 
An unknown peace I soon knew
When the leaves danced with the breeze
The shadows of my life I threw
 
The butterflies and the bees
On me did comfort heap
That amazingly I found under this tree
 
My shallow life and forgotten sleep
This wilderness made new
With pleasure my heart started to weep
 
The grave cares now seemed so few
My life found a new definition
And into the azure sky my soul flew.

Ankthi ekzistencialist mes dyzimit të personazheve ( Analizë kritike për romanin “Polakja” të shkrimtarit Xhevat Mustafa ) / Nga Fatmir Minguli

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Ankthi ekzistencialist mes dyzimit të personazheve   ( Analizë kritike për romanin “Polakja” të shkrimtarit Xhevat Mustafa )     Nga Fatmir Minguli   Ndërmarja e të shkruarit të një romani të tejmbushur me ngjarje, patjetër që lakmohet nga shumë … Continue reading →