She, a Beautiful Art–Sushant Thapa

She, a Beautiful Art No barriers in art she sees No shackles of mind tames her Her mood is like a spring flower Her joy is a sky touching tower Her smile is her jewellery She has washed her face of agony
English Poem
She, a Beautiful Art No barriers in art she sees No shackles of mind tames her Her mood is like a spring flower Her joy is a sky touching tower Her smile is her jewellery She has washed her face of agony
By Musa Mwalimu Dukuly Fakolee Ayule sila bila: Fakolee natolè Clear the way: Fakolee is coming, he has a great and magical power. A short, fierce, beast and brave superhuman he was, he would grow taller than the roofs of hut when
Loyalty Maybe it’s when someone picks you up when you fall, believes in you when no one does or stands in the rain to await you, What’s loyalty? I supposed it’s when the street light goes off, When everything seems to be
Winter Out and In Winter cheers With teacups. Spring in the mind, No sun in the winter sky. Old habits flowering new hopes. On the crossroad You glanced at my heart A porcupine penetration of sights. The heart full of temptations. Long
Anymore You are awake With dreams Rising in your eyes. Memories of survival Wash the tears. This fog of reality Is not demeaning When you embrace The shortcomings Of your own weather. Look beyond The fortune walls A life exists If you
The Green Grassland Those childhood days When we woke up with the sun’s warmth rays U and me jumped and danced in this green grassland And travelled singing through the endless sand I forever did float in your soothing eyes And felt
Heartful of Memory I am not a troublesome genius I just have a heartbeat that is alive Beating like the engine Of a running vehicle. I also travel with my conscience Give me no your shoes My legs aren’t just alone. I
A Little Beggar I am a little beggar I ask not much from you. I sleep under a staircase Where water leaks and the roof rusts. My bread is so costly My tea is not so sweet I labor during my day
An ode to mommy dear These impeccable verses crafted by my humble pen Are appraising mom for her impartial and daring deeds in her den Pluck and agile and endowed with the feats of men Scrupling not that she’s the acme among
Essence In a faraway country The lights shun, They flicker. It will still be thought that Dreams have roads to reality. People leave their homes, In search of a new home Somewhere else. A belief is the essence of life. An old
Old Time When the time gets old It will be a companion Of mirrored memories. The casting of young spell, The creases of smile All crumpled and dimpled In the face of old time. When the memory wall Fades in color, The
We proclaim Deeds We are the light Not afraid of darkness. We are the night torch, We are the path seekers. We draw our fate On the barren land. We toil, we rest. We grow, We become the walk of life. Never
AN ORPHAN IN CITY OF PARADISE How difficult, how difficult to come back from the heart of paradise, tonight we honor Aleixandre by the seaside at the beautiful Palmeral de las Sorpresas the palm grove located where once there was a silo
THE VOICE OF PEACE On the mountaintops of hope, In the vastness, in the reality of action and vision, On the patterned surface of mature eucalyptus trees, On all tree trunks alive, on the branches of the future, On ethereal olive trees
SPRING GROWS INTO NEXT YEAR Spring here Grecian, even the rocks sing glorious songs. The sea blossoms in her blue way. May is the month of words budding May is the month of sea scents, as you look at Poetry from the
Transience The nodding approval A waking color The smoky transience Still follwed by shadows I rest I become a night Studded with countless stars. One moon sets and the sun Wakes up dreamy. It clears the way to the horizon. The silver
Another Day in the City. It was another usual day in the city, Cars honking in full blare. Young men in neon- colored t-shirts and dyed hair racing their bikes. The air smelled of petrol and dust As the evening settled
Silence Makes You So Beautiful Nurul Hoque Silence makes you many times So beautiful like water purple That I can compose some rhymes Top to bottom and end to all When I saw you’re really busy Business cried on platform Eyes craved
An Evening Who knows what will melt the sun. The sun sets It misses the morning light The moon prepares To dawn and the sun Sees its future On the face of the moon. The ticking time Doesn’t do any justice But
Amon-Ra You like Amon-Ra, the main deity of the ancient Egyptians and the symbol of creative power and birth, like Amor, a god of love and jokes of the ancient Romans and as Eros, you think love wins everything and that