Poems by Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim

Poems by Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim



Colors, O colors
The world without you
Lack of flavour
I must confess to you.

Black, O color of despair
When you’re blues sidewalk
Black, O chic color
Causes hypnotic looks

Brown, O color of the earth
Trees, leaves on the ground
Brown, O gourmet color
Chocolate, we ask for more

Red, O passion color
Unleashing of bodies
Red, O revolution color
Ideas, always stronger

Orange, O sparkling colour
Women of dancing colours
Orange, Ô dynamic color
From movement to symbolism

Yellow, O golden color
Roll in the wheat fields
Yellow, O color of the Sun
Star that watches over us

Green, O color of nature
What will it be in the future?
Green, O color of hope
Will man take his chance?

Blue, O color of our skies
Drowning in it like in eyes
Blue, O color of our seas
To sink into a new universe

Violet, O color of mystery
Melancholy sometimes despairs us
Purple, O soothing color
Helping Meditation

White, O immaculate color
Symbol of virginity
White, O dazzling colour
Of light and life

World in colour
In our inner lives
In the outside world
To our observant gaze…

Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim
18 June 2019
All rights reserved.



The water from the sky had left its melody on the purple irises
reminding the eye that man did not invent
the beauty of color,
that nature has its own wine whose calm charms and always bathes grazing cows
It is soft and limpid, the family walk on Sundays,
my hips move in honey and salt
that the faces of those I love suggest to me!

In this world everything has to be redone
except that which was born from the prayer belly of Love, swimming in pure fantasy
Oh, motherly sweetness!
She is so beautiful again the goddess Earth
even if his breaths come and go on polluted breath
and his once perfect dance
breaks the magic and balance of its rhythms
like the patient who no longer controls her actions
Does she have to die one day under the sun
like a lover and a thirsty mother?
And the red tulips, which propel my heart
with elegance in an interior garden
would no longer be revealed in front of the children?
Life has never been more generous tragedian
masking the anticipated pain of his death
under the fine veil of all its charms
finely painting the sublime features of newborns
sending her tenderness in a thousand scattered flowers,
bathing our souls in the humble water that purifies
warming up our feelings with fire, which should
to find for her the way of salvation too!

And what thoughts can we offer him today?
Never the ones that weigh him down, sweetheart!
Only compassion, hope and will!
To the one to whom all due respect
may never be returned.

Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim
18 June 2019
All rights reserved.

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