Dr. Maria Miraglia (Italy)

 

Dr. Maria Miraglia (Italy)

Educationist, poet, translator and peace activist, Dr. Maria A. Miraglia was born and lives in Italy. For long an active member of Amnesty International, member of Ican, of the Observatory for Human Rights, Deputy President for UWMC, Kenya and founder of World Foundation for Peace. She is the Literary Director of the Cultural Association P. Neruda and a member of several editorial boards
She has edited and published several anthologies. Among the most recent: Stars Dust -2018; Confluence-2019; Tra Sogno e Realtà, Labirinto di Pensieri-2020; Appendo I Miei Sogni Ogni Notte-2021. Her poems are published in national and international journals and anthologies. Her collection Dancing Winds has been translated into several languages including Telugu. This latest edition received the Golden Pen award. Miraglia writes in Italian, English or both languages. She is the recipient of several awards and is a member of the International Writers Authors. Recent her election as a member to the European Academy of Science and Arts -Salzburg-


LIFE AND DEATH

I crossed the time
among mists cold winters
and sun-drenched mornings
observed the bule skies
where stars smiled at each other
from afar
saw flocks of birds arrive
from distant lands
and leave when the leaves
began falling down
admired red sunsets
and pearly sunrises
quickly following each other
and get lost
in the night of the time
new lives have crowded
the streets of the world
like multicoloured flowers
blooming in spring
and many peter their vital energy
like glowing candles
oblivious of their consumptions
in the very act of their burning
how many more the seasons
that will come
of how many of them
will I still admire the colours
and smell the scent
until the Angel of Death comes
and snatches me from life
it’s for a long time
his journey began
since my first cry
in the welcoming arms
of my mother
but
will his step be slow
or fast will he ride his black steel


A SUITCASE
Poland 1939- 1941

They only gave me twenty minutes and
told me
I could bring a suitcase with me
just one
I was afraid
but that old cardboard object
took away from me
the fear of something terrible and imminent
suggested the idea of continuity
overtime
the miserable things
quickly pressed inside
could have been useful tomorrow and
the day after
again
but it didn’t take long
to understand it was the offer
of a fleeting illusion
a lie
to make things easier

It would be of no use
if not to become
a silent testimony
of the occurred tragedy


MY MOTHER

The streets have no asphalt
my feet sink into the sand
and with effort I go
along illuminated paths
and dark
I carry on me as a boulder
the pains of a lifetime
dears of ever lost and never forgotten
like shadows in the night the memories
Impalpable and fleeting

Tormented my thoughts
looking for unknown truths

My mother
maybe now a child
reborn to new life
somewhere far away
are you oblivious proceeding
along an infinite journey
Or did your spirit,
noble and pure,
in the air dissolve as candle smoke
at the same moment of your last breath

But
I don’t feel your scent
in the breaths of wind

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