ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

RAINY SONATA

Sudden gusts of wind

Tap rhythmically upon the window

Raindrops jangle on the glass.

Downpour composes a sonata.

It records transparent notes

On the invisible staves.

Single sounds join together

to create the  thundering chords.

Cold drops vibrate in music,

Antarctic glaciers crumble,

hot springs geysers steam,

river flow down rhythm  Allegro

Water, as the Eternal Wanderer,

will  never know peace.

It will continue roaming

between steam and ice.

Yesterday it was  the  ocean.

Today it is the lake.

Tomorrow it will be a tear

THE WONDERS OF THE WORLD

I have never been to Hawaii.

Not for me, do the palm trees dance in the wind,

The sun’s rays do not caress my skin,

The hot magma does not flow from the heart of the Earth.

I have not seen colored hummingbirds

hanging  like living jewels on the flowers.

The exotic and beautiful butterflies,

Similar to the fans of the Japanese geisha,

do not fly  around  me.

I have  not climbed  the steps of the ancient pyramids.

I have not seen the treasures of the pharaohs

And the huge Temple of Amun.

I cannot dance the Spanish flamenco

And I am not enveloped in a delicate, Indian sari.

The Amazon does not open the gate to the green paradise

And ruthless tundra does not lead to the white hell.

The ocean does not show its underwater treasury

And dolphins do not play on the backs of the waves.

I have not met a happy eternal love,

But this does not mean that it does not exist.

THIEF OF DREAMS

I was silent, smiling, undemanding.

You did not expect that I would take without consent.

I was too close, and everything was within the reach of my hand.

Like a thief, I stole your glances and loneliness.

Your thoughts, I tied in a myriad of knots, creating a dense net,

And from dreams, I wove a gentle curve of a woman’s figure.

I stoked the spark of passion in your eyes, and a fire erupted.

I wrapped us in a sweet scent of flowers in my hair

And we glided towards many, distant nights.

Day has no right to enter the precipitous depth.

It is a place, in which the contours of black shadows fall asleep.

Only at the bottom of the abyss, can dreams and starlight be seen.

You are from Mars, I  am from Venus.

Far planets are the bright points on a firmament of tenderness.

Our words and hands  attracts to the force of gravity of life.

AMONG STARS

I wait for the downpour of stars,

Maybe I have time to whisper a wish.

I look with hope to the Leonids.

I believe that I will see the falling sparks.

The dancing Pleiades stirred up a cloud of dust.

Jealous Orion will not overtake them

And Sirius will not find the seven nymphs.

Morpheus leads to the land of sleep

Somewhere on the edge of the River Styx.

My beloved knows the secrets of existence

And all the metamorphoses of the cosmos.

Every night he carries me in his arms

And gives to the possession of Apollo and the muses.

He plaits visions into prophetic premonitions.

Berenice sacrificed her golden braid to the heavens.

She explains sadly,

That she has not found happiness on Earth

Among the gods and among stars.

(NOT) MY POEM

I wrote a few words and secured them permanently.

Reflections and emotions created the stanzas.

I uttered the final sentence,

and my poem moved like a zephyr,

Kissing my lips lightly as he left, gliding away to strangers.

.

He slipped into eyes, where tears are born.

He whispered tender words to hearts

and they faintly shivered.

He pricked dormant consciences,

made stale by daily routine.

He consoled a sad lady, Melancholy.

At night he soared skywards

parting heavy curtains of clouds.

The stars glistened over illuminated moonlit paths for lovers

The tender song of a lone  nightingale

echoed around the dark abyss

and sank softly into swooning scents of flowers.

Sometimes my faithless lover returns

- beloved son of the muse, but child of mine no more

A WINNING LOT

Life happened to me.

With a gift of knowing the good with the bad.

I can capture fleeting thoughts

And stop time with a word.

The everyday delights,

Bring great mysteries.

Constant wonder is my lot.

I marvel at the greenness of the leaves

And how many sounds

Are concealed in the throats of birds.

Exceptional chance

To examine the shapes and colors of clouds,

To feel the menace of lightning.

It is a pity to waste any minute

On senseless sorrows.

I have a one-way ticket

THE ISLANDS OF HAPPINESS

dreams come true in the Bahamas

let's go there

where the wind brushes the green hair of palm trees

the huge ocean murmurs sleepily

the golden sand remembers footprints

and the sun disappears in blue water in the evening

before the black butterfly appears

we have time to write a few lines  of a poem

and to share our  thoughts like a slice of bread

only there

we can entrust our secrets to the stars

ONLY A LETTER

My heart had the shape of an envelope

I mailed it to you

- It's only a letter – you said.

You opened it and read hastily,

And then you put it on the desk

On the top of bills and ads.

My heart faded

And turned  into a piece of square paper.

LOST DATA

I'm standing on an empty street accompanied by a cold wind,

which throws about pieces of paper and foil airily.

Rain drops whip my face and hands.

Darkness woke up windows of local houses,

their yellow eyes look at me with hostility.

I'm not going home, all addresses are unfamiliar.

Thoughts like a frightened flock of crows  fly around my head.

I don't remember anything – fear chokes me, suffocates me.

I don't belong to anybody, loneliness drags me into oblivion.

I don't know my name and where I come from,

where I will find a safe shelter.

My handbag, the guardian of privacy, shut its mouth.

I have no documents.

I have no money.

Keys to an unknown door glitter.

A touch of an angel woke me up.

Regained consciousness shouts out my name.

I repel a bad dream from under my eyelids.

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA