ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

CONVERSION

It is a pity that I cannot buy a new soul.

In supermarkets, there are no special offers

- New Soul! On sale!

THE OLD ONE IS DYSFUNCTIONAL.

It is much easier to have a simple vision of the world.

Keep your feet on the ground and don’t have dreams.

Being greedy protects the heart.

Life has a physical dimension. Ideals hurt.

Gain a prominent place in the rat race,

Dispose of sentiments, tears.

My soul is able to forgive.

It cannot learn to trust again.

It says it does not enter the same river twice.

Unreasonable? Perhaps. -

It does not listen to reason.

It pulls away from people

SPRING OVER THE LAKE

The sun strokes the black furrows

of ploughed fields with warmer and longer rays

The soil bulges with greenness and fecundity

Spring flows from the depths of the lake

and releases it from a dream of winter white

The ice flows shutters, opening to water.

The willows lean over the plate of the lake.

They comb and braid their hair with the wind.

The trees look at the world mirrored in water.

The wild geese come from far away

The long calipers on the sky pave the way

to their nests hidden in the reeds

Buds open up and first flowers bloom.

The waves of the lake hum a song about new life,

The mystery of rebirth begins

Contrary to Nature

The dead, dry dragonfly in a glass case

froze stiff in its last fluttering of wings .

Wind did not break its transparent body ,

colors unfaded by the sun .

Perished young in the bloom of its beauty

it exists against nature

-  destined for immortality

Alicja Kuberska

EACH DAY

I would like to know each day,

Its colors and tastes,

As if it were my first day

And the last as well.

I do not want to stay

In the sphere of silence.

I want to change the

Minutes into notes.

The days were composed

Like symphonies.

The nights played the nocturnes

THE HOUSE ON THE TREE-TOP

I dwelled high, in the canopy,

Amongst the branches

And watched the decorations change

With the months.

There are strained and gloomy days,

Entwined in stormy clouds.

There are shiny and merry days too,

Like those when spring bursts upon us.

Although the frosty winter

Ruins my home.

I know, that it won’t be long before

l feel the season change.

The spring will come again

And paint my home in green.

It will trim it with interlaced branches

And leaves until the rainy autumn

DANCE ON THE DEW

Barefoot Aurora

Dance with me on the dew.

Look,

The night scattered jewels are everywhere.

They glisten on the leaves and grass.

The spiders wove rainbow necklaces for us.      .

Is it the Milky Way

Laying on the ground, or another spell?

The jealous day will hide the drops in the casket of time

And dry the tears of the moon by warm sunshine.

We only have a moment to dance,

When the night has not yet fallen asleep.

The day did not wake up until to the very end

SPRING WALK

Spring gave me new dresses.

They are made of clouds' dreams,

Warm glances and soft touches.

Accessories are also important-

A necklace made of  tender kisses

And a soft scarf of gentle smiles.

Do I look well?

It seems, that shoes dance.

They have joyful bows

And heels made of bird's trills

Where are we going?

The chill of the indifference

Need only disappear

For mistrust to melt.

Look! First snowdrop!

Do you want it?

I will offer you something valuable…

SPRING IN THE GARDEN

Air smells of lilac in the May evening .

The bunches of white and blue flowers bloom.

The lilies of the valley rise above the leaves

And overshadow the modest beauty of daisies.

The inconspicuous violets crouched  close to the ground.

Small flowers delight with exquisite fragrance.

Jasmine bushes join this symphony of smells.

The warm wind wafts down the petals of flowering trees.

It paints tiny, white specks on  the green grass.

Nature creates another moving picture

And invites us to observe life awakened.

We sit on the terrace  and look with wonder as

Magnolias toast the health of bees and singing birds.

We again find the joy of existence.

You take my hand and put it on your heart.

I feel its beating - no need to say anything.

I look at you and  my smile says - I know everything

BLOOMING

I do not know what color May's wind is.

It carries  a sweet smell and wraps it in warmth.

It showers our hair with apple blossoms

And covers it with a delicate veil of petals.

The colorful meadow blooms on my dress.

I weave a wreath of white daisies

And carry a bouquet with blue rings.

Just for you I'm so beautiful.

Promises are hidden in my eyes

And an engagement of love waits inside them.

I would like to cuddle up in the cloak of your arms

And hide from the rain of tears and bloom again in the spring

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA