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Curse


Aleksandra

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Aleksandra

  • Towards the end of the day,
    a weeping prayer is hearkened.
    Her eyes fall to her bosom;
    the tears turn into stones.
    The night opens its mouth.

 

 

original written at 14.03.2001; translation in English at 28.11.2008

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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This is a perfect poem, Aleksandra. Every word is picked out with care. I noticed your use of the primarily British form of the word toward -- towards -- which perfectly compliments your unusual choice of the word hearkened in lieu of heard, a more common word of today. The subject of the poem is indeed the brunt of a Curse at nightfall --

Her eyes fall to her bosom;

the tears turn into stones

-- and the last line strikes me like the cover of a coffin slamming shut:

The night opens its mouth.

This poem shows so much with saying so little. Perfect expressions, perfect punctuation, perfect title, not too long, not too short -- I wish I wrote this one.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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The tears turn into stones

The night opens its mouth

 

 

 

darkness sucking everything

graved inside me and locked

moon is smiling its fears

fears riding on Bat's wings

my soul walks away in wilderness

dead eyes left to watch misery............

 

Aleksandra, why the depression..........

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goldenlangur

Hello Aleksandra,

 

Your poem gives a sense of an unending cycle of waiting and sorrow - the day ends but the prayer and the tears bring no succour and the fabulous dark imagery of your last line suggests an unfathomable darkness and of being lost, without hope.

 

weeping prayer is so desolate.

 

 

Very moving. I wonder if the cadence and nuances in the original are be more beautiful!

 

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
This is a perfect poem, Aleksandra. Every word is picked out with care. I noticed your use of the primarily British form of the word toward -- towards -- which perfectly compliments your unusual choice of the word hearkened in lieu of heard, a more common word of today. The subject of the poem is indeed the brunt of a Curse at nightfall --
Her eyes fall to her bosom;

the tears turn into stones

-- and the last line strikes me like the cover of a coffin slamming shut:

The night opens its mouth.

This poem shows so much with saying so little. Perfect expressions, perfect punctuation, perfect title, not too long, not too short -- I wish I wrote this one.

 

Tony

 

Ah Tonyy. How to explain how much I love your comment. Thank you so much for your very expressive comment and compliments. I feel very special as I poet when I read your comments on my work. I must say that even in my original, Macedonian version I use some older words, which are not so common in present daily vocabulary. The words which provokes some older sound of my poem. So that's why I tried to give something similar in my English version too. I am glad that you like the title too, I had a hard time to find it icon_smile.gif.

 

I love the expression what you use in your comment: " and the last line strikes me like the cover of a coffin slamming shut ". I didn't know that my poem will work that way for you, and how this poem will work at all, because really this poem gave me such of hard time to translate, and all of that because the poem is short, unusual in its original version, and I wanted to versify the real soul of the poem.

 

Thank you Tony for your sympathy on my poems, and thank you for your unselfish help, whenever I need you are here to help me, and I am sorry for taking your time sometimes to bother you icon_razz.gif

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra
The tears turn into stones

The night opens its mouth

darkness sucking everything

graved inside me and locked

moon is smiling its fears

fears riding on Bat's wings

my soul walks away in wilderness

dead eyes left to watch misery............

 

Aleksandra, why the depression..........

 

Wonderful expressed feelings Rony. I am glad that my poem inspired you.

Depression? No. This is old poem. Was I depressed? - I don't remember, this one is written in 2001.

 

Thank you for your commenting Rony, I hope all is well with you.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra
Hello Aleksandra,

 

Your poem gives a sense of an unending cycle of waiting and sorrow - the day ends but the prayer and the tears bring no succour and the fabulous dark imagery of your last line suggests an unfathomable darkness and of being lost, without hope.

 

weeping prayer is so desolate.

 

 

Very moving. I wonder if the cadence and nuances in the original are be more beautiful!

 

 

 

 

goldenlangur

 

Goldenlangur, as always you are very good reader. You did a very good interpretation here. Thank you so much. I am glad that you noticed, as Tony did, the dark imagery in the last line. It is the strongest line in the original.

 

Thank you

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Hi Alek,

 

The structure together with the content does look like a classical poem. Very dark. The last line is very powerful.

 

Thanks for the read.

 

Lake

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Aleks,

 

Powerful and moving image:

 

the tears turn into stones.

The night opens its mouth.

 

One needs to ask, what prayer, and what answered? Rich in a Gothic magical realist manner, it carries powerful landscapes within so few words...

 

I would agree with Tony, a perfect poem.

 

DC

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Aleksandra
Hi Alek,

 

The structure together with the content does look like a classical poem. Very dark. The last line is very powerful.

 

Thanks for the read.

 

Lake

 

Thank you Lake. Interesting how almost all of you, like it the last line the most icon_smile.gif

 

You are welcome to read icon_smile.gif

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra
Aleks,

 

Powerful and moving image:

 

the tears turn into stones.

The night opens its mouth.

 

One needs to ask, what prayer, and what answered? Rich in a Gothic magical realist manner, it carries powerful landscapes within so few words...

 

I would agree with Tony, a perfect poem.

 

DC

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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this is a very emotive, elegant piece of poetry. loved reading it and thinking about the possible scenarios that inspired it - that's what poetry is supposed to do - and you nailed it here! well done... icon_smile.gif

To receive love, you have to give it...

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Aleksandra

Thank you Douglas icon_smile.gif. I missed your comments around. I agree with your view for poetry. Glad you like it my friend.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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