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INTERNATIONAL POETRY PAGES Submit your poem to writersunlimitedagency@yahoo.com Sweet Memories by Marie Labropoulos
Please forgive me when i say that a
part of me wishes i had not seen you today...
As refreshing as a single
Raindrop on my face Was your return, but within That drop, that sweet tear I had never shed, were the Passions of the high seas Forsaken by time As are a sailors memories.
You will travel again, but the
Rains will continue For Months, And every drop which Falls on my cheek Will remind me... The Sweet Memories of Our love long passed. Ms. Labropoulos writes: "I am a 23 yr. old Greek-American, currently living in Athens, Greece. I studied Literature at University and taught English to children in Greece, and am now pursuing a degree in Architecture." mlabropoulos@hotmail.com Two poems by Herbert Kuhner Blondie This Blondie isn’t the Blondie who’s the wife of Dagwood Bumstead, nor is she Blondie the pop singer. This Blondie was a German shepherd. Eva mostly took care of her. She was the mate of a man named Adolf, who was Blondie’s master. In Eva’s home movies, taken in Berchtesgaden, there are shots of Blondie with a litter of pups. While Blondie was nursing her brood, the maw of Adolf’s death machine was gulping down millions all over Europe. Eva Braun ignored Adolf’s evil side, as did Hanna Reitsch, the pilot who flew to Berlin to bring him out. But Adolf decided to stay in his bunker and make an end of it, while others went on fighting. So he did himself in, taking Eva and Blondie with him. Eva and Hanna were dazzled by the Adolf’s blue eyes and charm, and like Blondie were faithful to the master. You could call them bitches, but poor Blondie was a bitch in the true sense of the word, so how can she be blamed? Herbert Kuhner Incompatibility Christianity and Nazism are incompatible. - Martin Bormann, June 6, 1941 The Holy See has condemned divorce birth control abortion and torture. He has called for conciliation between victims and perpetrators. The victims who survived should forgive the perpetrators, although they have expressed neither regret nor remorse and are threatening new repression and doing their best to carry out their threats. The Holy See has brought about the beatification of supporters of Nazism and the Ustascha and has called for South America's foremost perpetrator of mass murder to be spared from being brought to justice. Even though fascists murder maim rape and torture they can't be all bad since they're not communists. Herbert Kuhner was born in Vienna in 1935. He emigrated in 1939 and grew up and was educated in the United States. He has resided in Vienna since 1963. He is the author of novels, poetry, and plays and has published numerous volumes of poetry in translation, which include Austrian Poetry Today (Schocken Books, New York, 1985) and If the Walls Between Us Were Made of Glass: Austrian Jewish Poetry (Verlag Der Apfel, Vienna, 1992). Kuhner plays the drums and is author of a collection of jazz poems, Swing Men and Women, which has been illustrated by Austrian jazz guitarist Manfred Markowski. At present Kuhner is collaborating with American poet George Wallace on Before the Storm, an edition of the complete poems of Alter Brody. BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN FOR TWENTY ONE DAYS MISSILES AND BOMBS FELL LIKE RAIN PEOPLE KILLED AND HOMES DESTROYED SMART BOMBS LEAVING HOME THEIR BRAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN FIRES ARE BURNING, SMOKE IS IN THE SKY KARBALA AND NAJAF AGAIN MOURNING THEIR SLAIN THIRST, HUNGER AND DESTRUCTION EVERY WHERE BUT THE MEDIA HAS THE WHOLE WORLD TO ENTERTAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN THE LIBERATORS HAVE COME KILLING CHILDREN TO PULL DOWN SADDAM HUSSEIN BUILDINGS ARE BLACKENED AND STREETS ARE RED WOULD DAJLA'S WATER BE ENOUGH TO REMOVE THESE STAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN SOLDIERS DIE IN BATTLE BUT CUTTING THROATS TO REMOVE THE CHAIN FREEDOM HAS BEEN FORCED UPON IRAQI PEOPLE BY KILLING THE SONS SO THAT FREE THEIR FAMILIES CAN REMAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN THOUSANDS LIE IN HOSPITALS WOUNDED BODIES, CRIES, TEARS AND PAIN BRITISH AND AMERICANS HAVE HAD THEIR FUN BULLETS , ROCKETS AND PROMISES OF WATER AND GRAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN WHAT OF BROTHERS, WHAT OF UMMAH THE PROTESTS ,THE MARCHES, ALL ARE IN VAIN WHERE ARE THE LAWS WHERE ARE THE MORALS BLOOD SPILLED, DEATH HAS RULED, AND WHO IS TO GAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN NOW THE REBUILDING IS TO START AND THE ALLIES WOULD BE LOOKING FOR THE NEXT DOMAIN AFGHANISTAN, IRAQ .........THE CRUSADE HAS BEGUN RUSSIA, FRANCE AND GERMANY, ALAS THEY MISSED THE TRAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN WHAT WAS THE WAR IN IRAQ WAS IT FOR OIL OR WAS IT ELECTION CAMPAIGN NEW WORLD ORDER , BRAND NEW WORLD MAP WHO IS SEEKING ANSWERS AND WHO IS THERE TO EXPLAIN BAGHDAD HAS FALLEN AGAIN Nadeem Bajwa, Pakistan, nibajwa@lhr.pakfree.net BLACK NIGHT The arid fields of dusty silver lie fallow for years and years that pass in the farewell trembling hues of the night too black and dazzling to look real. The placid ponds of gilded lilies ripple with the sinking shades of this suffocating twilight, the black night’s faithful employee. The corrupted fates of grandeur, formerly sparkling, now vexed and weary, lie scattered on the banks which the nightly Rider of Justice haunts.
Vladimir Orlov writes: I am 29, born on October 29,1973,in Volgograd, Russia. In 1996, I graduated from Volgograd Pedagogical University, the Foreign Languages Department.
A Poem by Else Keren Else Keren Else Keren Ich schöpfte meine Farben in der Wäldern der Karpaten und weinte sie in die trübe Seine Meine Welt ist groß so groß wie die Erdkugel und noch viel größer Die Schale eines Taubeneis könnte meine Welt fassen, meine kleine, ach so kleine Welt Im taufrische Tal liegen die Träume der Nacht und verblassenen still Else Keren I took my colors from the Carpathian forests and wept them into the dreary Seine My world is large as large as the world and much larger The shell of a pigeon egg could encompass my world my, oh so small world The dreams of the night lay in the dew-fresh valley and quietly grow pale Translated from the German by Herbert Kuhner Else Keren was born in 1924 in Bukovina. She studied in Paris from 1947-1950. She went to Israel in 1949, where she taught English and French. In addition to writing poetry, she painted and exhibited work in enamel. She also translated Hebrew poetry into German. In the Sand of Your Thoughts /Im Sand Deiner Gedanken, poetry by Else Keren was translated by Herbert Kuhner (Edition Mnemosyne/Alekto Verlag, 1997). She died in 1995. A Poem by Heinrich Eggerth Darum Er kannte mich nicht, darum grüßte er mich nicht. Er lernte mich kennen. Jetzt grüßt er mich. Er kennt mich doch nicht, denke ich, darum grüßt er mich.
Heinrich Eggerth For That Reason He didn't know me, that's why he didn't greet me. He got to know me. Now he greets me. He really doesn't know me, I think, that's why he greets me,
Translated from the German by Herbert Kuhner
Johannes Urzidil Wer war es, der deine Schönheit nicht ertrug und deiner Glieder Gesang in Trümmer schlug'? War es des Widerspruchs wahnwitziges NEIN? War es der Zeiten Gewalt und bezwang den Stein? Doch es geschieht auch in unfaßbarem Verzicht, daß der Geliebte das Bild der Geliebten zerbricht, daß die Geliebte das Bild des Geliebten zerschlägt, weil das Auge Vollendetes nicht erträgt. Feinde und Zeiten zerstören Marmor und Erz, aber noch in den Trümmern atmet das Herz; was die Geliebten zerbrachen, ist ewig dahin. Über den Torsi wächst Eibe und Rosmarin.
Johannes Urzidil Who was it, who could not bear your beauty and beat the hymn of your limbs to pieces? Was it the contradiction of an asinine NO? Was it the force of time that overcame stone? But it also happens in inconceivable renunciation that the lover breaks the picture of the beloved, hat the beloved shatters the picture of the lover since the eyes cannot bear to view perfection. Enemies and time destroy marble and ore but in the debris the heart breathes; what lovers have broken is lost forever. Yew tress and rosemary grow over torsos. Translated from the German by Herbert Kuhner Johannes Urzidil was born in Prague in 1896. He belonged to the legendary Prague Circle, along with Franz Kafka and Max Brod. He emigrated in 1939, came to New York in 1941 and continued to live there. He died in 1970 at the Austrian Cultural Institute in Rome, while on tour, and is buried at the German Pilgrims’ Cemetery in Rome. A Poem by Heinrichy EggerthHeinrich Eggerth Darum
Er kannte mich nicht, darum grüßte er mich nicht. Er lernte mich kennen. Jetzt grüßt er mich. Er kennt mich doch nicht, denke ich, darum grüßt er mich.
Heinrich Eggerth For That Reason He didn't know me, that's why he didn't greet me. He got to know me. Now he greets me. He really doesn't know me, I think, that's why he greets me, Translated from the German by Herbert Kuhner Heinrich Eggerth was born in Annaberg, Lower Austria in 1926. He has worked as worked as a teacher and school director. He has published poetry and novels. His poems are contained in Will the Stars Fall/Fallen nun die Sterne along with those of Rotraut Hackermüller and Herbert Kuhner (Austrian Literary Forum, 1995). Eggerth is also active as a translator. Among the poets he has rendered are John Skelton, T. S. Eliot, E. E. Cummings, Alan Brownjohn and Alter Brody.
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