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Twilight

Gets the clouds hemmed with purple, once, and once again
It's a daily performance, free, and complete.
The actor sun never gets tired,
But us, we act the last scene, unfair, and out of use,
Then retire toward a foggy horizon...
Feeling rather alone, and forever, and maybe too slow.

poem by Adriana Maria Niţă from Algoritm literar (2013), translated by Dan Costinaş
Added by Dan Costinaş
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The retired hurt

I loved Nita; all her lovers with their
Passion together could not make up the sum.
In exertion and exhaustion, I retire.
22.08.2002

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Eighty-six percent of the gun death of children under the age of 14 internationally is right here in the United States of America. It is madness.

quote by Nita Lowey
Added by Lucian Velea
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The heavenly Prison

Your dark skin, Nita, is my prison,
Beyond which I don’t see any beam.
Your wordless words are its lock
Beyond which I don’t hear any din.
There are like me many prisoners,
Who serve in you for a life time,
Whereas I shall till death takes me.
That the freedom is heaven
Is disproved by your prison.
22.11.2002

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Warmth is still there

Nita, as informed of my visit,
You never failed to turn up
To the place where you were at work
And we met whole heartedly.
You presented yourself with
The ear studs I presented to you
A decade back as a token of love.
You have preserved them so long
And were particular to flaunt them
At the time of seeing me!
Enough, the warmth is still there.
Enough, it will warm my cold.
28.03.2006

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I am pale with longing for my beloved;

I am pale with longing for my beloved;
People believe I am ill.
Seizing on every possible pretext,
I try to meet him 'by accident.'

They have sent for a country doctor;
He grabs my arm and prods it;
How can he diagnose my pain?
It's in my heart that I am afflicted.

Go home, country doctor,
Don't address me by my name;
It's the name of God that has wounded me,
Don't force your medicines on me.

The sweetness of his lips is a pot of nectar,
That's the only curd for which I crave;
Mira's Lord is Giridhar Naagar.
He will feed me nectar again and again.

[...] Read more

poem by Mirabai
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The Magic Music Box

That music box on Grandpa's wall
Was magic to my eyes
I loved to hold and try to play
that guitar, twice my size

One day, I thought of nothing else
So, when the school bell rang
I was off to Grandpa's house
To strum those strings again

I waded thru two babbling brooks
Loving every step I took
Then paused to smell the sweet incense
Of honeysuckles on the fence

They'll miss me home at suppertime
But I think dad knows he can find
His little girl at Grandpa's house
with that guitar across her lap

[...] Read more

poem by Nita S. Balma
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Love is irremovable.

Dear Nita, I love you hand in glove,
I am, for you, head over heals in love.
No one must have fallen, with you, in love,
No one but me, you must love, I resolve.

Farness eludes our proximity.
Family bond prevents our unity.
You are too shy to take chance, if any.
The mirage of love is my vanity.

How someone-else can or may love you, given
That I alone can or must love you any more?
None else do I love; none else should you, driven
By this fallacy, I run after you.

Your features were not the cause of my love.
You were not alone under the roof to choose from.
Yet I love you; it’s irrevocable, irreversible.
The inaccessibility of you did it all.

[...] Read more

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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El Harith

Lightly took she her leave of me, Asmá--u,
went no whit as a guest who outstays a welcome;
Went forgetting our trysts, Burkát Shemmá--u,
all the joys of our love, our love's home, Khalsá--u.
Muhayyátu, she thee forgets, Sifáhu,
thee, Fitákon, Aádibon, thee Wafá--u.
Thee, Riád el Katá, thee, vale of Shérbub,
'Anak, thee, Shobatána, and thee, Ablá--u.
Nay, ye lost are to me with my lost glory;
nay, though tears be my meat, weeping wins no woman.
Yet, a snare to my eyes, afar was kindled
fire by night on the hill. It was Hind's love--beacon.
Blindly now do I watch her from Khezáza;
woe, the warmth of it, woe,--though the hilltops redden!
Woe its blaze from Akík, its flame from Shákhseyn!
woe the signal alight for me, Hind's love--incense!

Out on tears and despair! I go free, sundered;
here stand doors of relief. Who hath fled escapeth.
Mount I light on my nága. No hen ostrich

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Obeah Woman

Tony mckay
Exuma ... you hear
We gotta take our time
Gettin this one started
Hey mamma soul mamma soul papa
Hey soul body soul body soul body
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey
Hey yah gonna take my time
Gettin this one togheter
Gonna take my time
Gettin this one togheter
Gotta go home now
Gotta go home yea
You know about the holy roller church?
Aint that were it started?
Ha ha I know
Weve outgrown it now
And I cry that I think that I cant do
I like money yah
I like fine clothes

[...] Read more

song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
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