There is a boy living his normal life, happy and innocent. Excited to play outside with his friends, Always throw his bag after coming home from seemingly boring school. It was as if he had…
Health care systems Are the disease in our world, In our first world nations. As far as I know Most Doctors help no one, But protect each other From true reports of negligence. The heath…
(2010) “Are you judging me? Are you judging me?” I say to the woman behind the mirror. I stand before my reflection and stare into her hollow accusative eyes. She stays with me, uninvited; a…
Hung over the walls and corner the blind sacred a silent watcher SEEING things which are secrets LISTENING things that are whispers UNWRAPPING lies hidden in your truths COUNTING defeats you confuse with victories OBSERVES…
Gitanjali, Poem 12, by Rabindranath Tagore, a translation from English into Hungarian by J. W. Cassandra: I am fond of Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore, I could it read in English, not in Bengali, and in Hungarian. But I found the translations unfair in a certain sense, so I myself made the translation for the entire volume. Now I share here my very favourite, Poem 12. I made it as I felt by inspiration, not word by word only. I’m aware of that you generally don’t know my language, Hungarian. Despite of it, I try to render it for you. And I’d like to express my respect to the poet. Anyway, his life has Hungarian concerns, as well: he had cured his heart disease in the famous sanitarium, in Balatonfured at lake Balaton, in 1926. Moreover, he invited our linguist professor, Gyula Germanus to teach at his university to Santiniketan. Gyula Germanus spent there more years with his wife, Rozsa Hajnoczy. If we had no connection between the two countries, even I’d felt myself honoured to be able to translate his great poems into Hungarian. I adore his poetry and philosophy. By this short preface, I’d like to render my enthusiastic but maybe not the best translation of his poem.
Drowned in colors of fall Dusk hues sourround my sight With the setting sun in her hands I chase the dying light The night stares at dawn whispers a little more to hang on with…
My love is the cold sheet of silent snow that melts everytime with your smile
Be the sparkle of sunshine in your difficult times and make it jubilant as the rays of sun in the cold silent snow makes it more beautiful.
A companion for long dark nights glasses filled with heavy thoughts tonight, to consume and become delirious where consciousness dissolves and time freezes, where past is tamed and pain slowly mellows where haunting memories escape…
Man is affected by when, where, and how
Not my best poem, but something to get off my chest, thank you. Did you know that Canadian child welfare systems have been failing in their duties since 1948? That’s 150 years of Children’s Services Failures. The issue goes far beyond Canada, as North American systems are regulating at the same destructive pace.
Kerala was very caste conscious. Hope it will change. I am an IT professional I cannot change it. I considered everybody equal. I am also got influenced by President Lincon’s Gettysburg address. The rest of the time I would like to take It easy ane enjoy retired ;ife.
Always that one person we come across that makes us feel yellow.
Feeling like the life got sucked out of you you.
That feeling of being trapped in a box of never ending sad.
