Monday, July 10, 2017

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




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