Alicja Maria Kuberska (Poland)
Alicja Maria Kuberska – awarded Polish poetess, novelist, journalist, editor.
She is a member of the Polish Writers Associations in Warsaw, Poland and IWA Bogdani, Albania. She is also a member of directors’ board of Soflay Literature Foundation, Our Poetry Archive (India) and Cultural Ambassador for Poland (Inner Child Press, USA )
Her poems have been published in numerous anthologies and magazines in : Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Belgium, Bulgaria, Albania, Spain, the UK, Italy, the USA, Canada, the UK, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Israel, Turkey, India, Uzbekistan, South Korea, Taiwan, Australia, South Africa, Zambia, Nigeria
She received three medals – the Nosside UNESCO Competition in Italy (2015 and 2020) and European Academy of Science Arts and Letters in France (2017). Ahe also received a reward of international literary competition in Italy “Tra le parole e ‘elfinito” (2018). She was announced a poet of the 2017 year by Soflay Literature Foundation (2018).She also received : Bolesław Prus Prize Poland (2019), Culture Animator Poland (2019) and first prize Premio Internazionale di Poesia Poseidonia- Paestrum Italy (2019).
My village Borow
I no longer have a nest here
But I come back, like a swallow,
To places of my childhood.
I wander the sandy hedgerows,
To participate in the mystery of lark song.
I arrange bouquets
Of wild poppies and cornflowers –
And raise up to the clouds.
Old trees, to which I confided my secrets,
Tart, wild cherries
And sweet-scented linden
As once –
I divine the world in the mirror of the lake.
I listen to the waves and the wind.
Apparently nothing has changed.
Only the cemetery hill,
Like a diary of life,
Is ever more clear
Along the sandy paths
the sunny summer was strolling,
barefooted and laughing.
It was listening to the buzzing of bees,
and the song of the larks
falling from the sky.
It stroked the rich fields of cereals
with its hands.
In the age of clover wreaths
I was a fair-haired princess
in a ball dress made of cotton.
Wind – my favorite companion,
raised clouds of golden dust,
swirled in a dance with bird feathers
It hung high in the clouds,
like colorful kites,
dreams of long journeys.
Careless longings came true
– the paths turned into a highway.
I have gone far and forever
A Philosopher and a Poet
they met between heaven and earth
at the place where time and matter are irrelevant
at a higher level of abstraction
they overcame the barriers of the real world
he brought a white canvas and philosophical maxims
she brought the paint brushes
and a handful of dreams in words
they painted the picture in many shades of blue
they poured their thoughts and feelings into the ether
he sketched the outlines of life with a bold navy blue line
she filled the background with gentle azure brushes
together they added a few colorful spots of astonishment
his eyes are hazel and hers are green
The guardian of female privacy
hides inside a few ordinary things
and some magic
One can find in it:
shimmering silver portrait of the holder
and the redness of her lips,
handkerchiefs delicate as fog
soaked with her tears of joy and sadness,
notebook with white sheets
full of life prose and little poetry,
loose cards with culinary recipes
about how to cook dinner out of nothing,
tiny coins buzzing like golden bees
ready to support the smiles of the poor,
keys from the house
and heart of the beloved,
phone in a colorful case.
The woman’s handbag contains
and the whole world of the owner.
The Next Chance
Carmine roses bloom in the midst of winter,
Drowsy violets peak from under leaves
And daisies stand white in the grass.
The sun heats the earth
And brightens short days with a warm glow.
I notice a tenderly embraced couple in a park.
Gracious fate gives them one more chance
For an unexpected meeting.
Eyes, surrounded by rays of wrinkles, laugh.
Wind ruffles hair, tosses delicate
Silver threads of gossamer.
And so, unannounced, tardy love arrived
They have a choice of a new path,
Maybe the last chance for happiness.
Life took away their naïve faith
And burned away old feelings.
It left them some dreams
And much hope for a better tomorrow
They are lost in thoughts
Doubts and fears spring up
From the shadows like ghouls
The head says: no… it’s not worth it… think it over…
The heart says-yes… go forwards… fall in love
Nature stopped the hands of the clocks.
Red flowers bloom