Taifas Literary Magazine No. 6, December, 2020

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8Taifas Literary Magazine No. 6, 2020, DecemberAnna Maria Sprzęczka-StępieńPolandDla tych, którzy cierpią postracie...[For Those Who Suffer When They Have Lost...]Wierzę, że to wszystko stanie się lżejsze,że Ci pozostaną miłe tylko wspomnienia.Daj się prowadzić czasowi,popłyń po życia fali,z jego nurtem.Jak rzeki łączą się, jaknowe widoki po drodze,wzdłuż ich brzegów, takniech w Twoim życiubędzie...Choć teraz powoli,ociężale,a woda zamiast płynąć wartkoi szumieć radośnie stoi i trzyma Cięw odmętach rozpaczy...Będzie z czasem lepiej,będzie jeszcze pięknie!Zresztą...sam zobaczysz.Ruki KočanCroatiaA Word of LoveI can just say, I love the whole world!The big and the small,The rich, if good,And the poor.In healthAnd in sickness,Self-standingAnd in need.Here, gender meansnothing,Just a desire foremphasizingOf every humanUnusual importance ...Whether they’re wise,Or erringMay God be deciding.I am not the one to judge…What I can do todayIs to start with myselfThen for the better our world will change!Mahatma Gandhi:“You must be the change you want to see in theworld.”“As human beings, our greatness lies not somuch in being able to remake the world – thatis the myth of the atomic age – as in being ableto remake ourselves.”ISSN 2458-0198 - ISSN-L 2458-0198TAIFAS LITERARY MAGAZINE
9Taifas Literary Magazine No. 6, 2020, DecemberSlavka BozovicSantosh Kumar BiswaMontenegroA gift from the godsBhutanThe guiltless soulI don't know where the sources of creativitycome from,to flow from the depths of poetic souls,and like a torrent of a mountain stream,during empathy they flow into a sea of dreams.Is it the gift of heavenly messengers,pulsing with blessingthrough the aorta of theheart,giving birth to lightthrough the vast fields ofpoetics,creating incrediblyenchanting images.The mundane heart waves about like theeagle,So much of worldly, in lips and deeds, so faint,Indeed, even Aergia would fail for its idlenessto accept,But, like Poseidon, even Cassiopeia couldn'tdeny.Such a heart, like the smiling morningappears ahead,As if to conquer the heaven's golden floor inthe quest,So much in prevarication, yet in fabricationto seem,Even Hermes could fail to finger the realnessbehind.Probably the gods cameup with and agreed,to nest in the poet's eye ofa bird,underfoot, stretching the charms of the galaxy,so at night they grab the scrolls with thefingers of spirituality.The guiltless soul, like the dust that thegentle wind conveys,Bewitched with the sugar coated lips, getsbear off,Like Eve, easily was once deceived by aserpent,Never to hark back as the unfulfilled returnof Astraea.Poets are angels flying on a saddle of clouds,through the secret labyrinths of the pinkworld,diligently dancing on poetic flower meadows,and like bees they collect sweet deeds in hives.year I, No. 6, 2020, DecemberBut, one can caveat well in advance, not to bediddled,Being apt in an act to catch beyond theobvious,Without being deceived, the sugar coating todeflect,And never to blend in again upon cognizingthe verity.ISSN 2458-0198 – ISSN-L 2458-0198
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Taifas Literary Magazine No. 6, December, 2020

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