******OUR POETRY ARCHIVE******: September 2025

Monday, September 1, 2025

SEPTEMBER 2025 V-11 N-6 Issue No. 126

ADA RIZZO INTERVIEW

NILAVRONILL TALKING WITH

POET OF THE MONTH

ADA RIZZO

SEPTEMBER 2025

NILAVRONILL: Why do literature and poetry in particular interest you so much? Please give us some idea about your own perception of literature or poetry in general.

ADA RIZZO: Reading has always been a passion and a joy for me. Since I was a child, I have been captivated by the irresistible charm of written and spoken words. Words dance and caress me; as a little girl, I was enchanted by fairy tales and later by great Italian and international literary masterpieces. I am a curious person, eager to improve myself, to learn, and to engage in dialogue as I walk the path toward becoming the best version of myself something I hope to achieve someday. Literature offers me a wonderful opportunity to continue my journey of self-discovery and to listen to the infinite range of emotions that writing can convey.

NILAVRONILL: Do you believe that your literary self is actually an extension of your soul? We would like to know the factors and the peoples who have influenced you immensely in the growing phase of your literary life.

ADA RIZZO: Writing for me represents a kind of "emotional urgency," something I simply cannot do without. The prose and poetry I have recently begun to explore mean many things: an atemporal space where I can express myself immersed in an ideal condition, in which I feel no hunger, no thirst, and no passage of time. A dimension where only emotions and the heart speak. Finally, through writing, I can raise awareness about social issues such as human rights, gender violence, and peace, topics I always want to keep at the forefront. I am aware that I am just a small drop in a vast literary and poetic ocean, but I also believe that each of us can do something to change things, and I do so through what I love: writing! I believe that every person I have met, every experience I have lived, both personally and literarily, has influenced and enriched me internally. I do not believe in chance or fate, and therefore I think that what happens to us is not at all random. For better or worse, we always meet the people we need to evolve, grow internally, and develop resilience, so that especially painful or negative events do not occur in vain.

NILAVRONILL: Do you think the primary obligation of a poet should be to communicate with the temporal as well as with the eternal essence of life and the universe? If so, how can one fulfil that particular obligation?

ADA RIZZO: I am convinced that there is a deep connection between the here and now and the ancestral and universal dimension, especially in philosophical and poetic contexts; there is a strong dichotomy between the human being, infinitely small, and the infinite universe. A poet is someone who has not stopped dreaming, feeling, and being moved. A poet manages to express their sensations through verses and metaphors capable of conveying highly evocative images. From my profession as a counselor, I have learned the ability to observe beyond what is intended to be shown and to listen profoundly. Above all, I believe that a poet is in deep connection with their true essence, which is their Inner Child, the magical child, the little one who can deeply appreciate life and look at the world with renewed joy and wonder.

NILAVRONILL: It is an established fact that every poet should create his or her own poetic language as an unique literary signature that would eventually keep him or her alive beyond his or her time. I would like to know your personal experience in this regard, and how can one achieve that unique literary language in his or her lifetime?

ADA RIZZO: I don't believe I possess a unique poetic language, nor do I know if any of my poems will be remembered beyond my era. What I can state with absolute certainty is that everything I write, whether in prose or poetry, is born from emotions permeated by my experiences, sensations from my inner universe that I transform into words and verses. My poetic language could essentially be described as... emotional. How one might achieve a unique literary language over the course of life, I hope to learn by continuing to feel emotions, listening to myself, experimenting with curiosity, perseverance, and patience, engaging with people and other poets, and enriching my personal and emotional baggage so that it becomes the travel allowance, a “viatico” for this wonderful journey called life.

NILAVRONILL: Do you consider particular language, culture and nationality shape up the poet’s literary self? What is your personal experience being an Italian? I would like to understand how much and in what way your language, your culture as well as your nationality paved your literary self.

ADA RIZZO: I believe that the culture of the nation where I was born, Italy, has had a strong influence on my personal and literary identity. From a young age in school, we were educated about the beauty of literature and poetry, studying great Italian poets from Dante to Petrarch, Ungaretti, Quasimodo, Montale, and many others. It is therefore almost natural that many students, after completing their studies, want to deepen their knowledge of the great poets. As a curious person driven by the desire to learn and improve myself, I have read and studied the works of these renowned Italian poets, and later I approached international literature.

NILAVRONILL: No literature can survive without communicating with different languages and cultures, as well as various traditions and heritages. I would like to know your opinion regarding the growth and evolution of Italian literature.

ADA RIZZO: Literature, as a form of human expression, is nourished and enriched through the diversity of languages, cultures, and heritages, fostering creativity, empathy, cultural preservation, and dialogue between different worldviews. The dialogue between diverse realities is essential to maintaining the plurality and depth of literary expression.

NILAVRONILL: Italian literature has a great heritage. I would like to know your viewpoints on the contemporary Italian literature. Where does it stand now in comparison with it’s past glory?

ADA RIZZO: Contemporary Italian literature represents an extremely rich and dynamic landscape, characterized by its ability to constantly renew itself while maintaining strong ties to the cultural traditions of the past. Compared to the great moments of glory in Italian literature, such as the Renaissance with authors like Dante Alighieri, Francesco Petrarca, and Giovanni Boccaccio, or the 20th century with prominent figures such as Luigi Pirandello, Italo Calvino, and Alberto Moravia, the current scene shows a significant evolution in both diversity and approach to themes.

Currently, Italian literature is characterized by a strong diversity of voices, styles, and genres. Contemporary authors like Elena Ferrante, who achieved international success with works such as "L’amica geniale", have brought attention to Italian narrative worldwide, demonstrating how our literature has opened up to global influences, addressing universal themes with an original, intense, and engaging style. Alongside her, writers like Paolo Cognetti, author of "Le otto montagne," and Margaret Mazzantini, known for novels such as "Non ti muovere" and "Venuto al Mondo," continue to explore fundamental themes such as identity, memory, social transformations, and the challenges of the modern era, contributing to a rich and complex literary landscape.

Compared to past glory, it can be said that contemporary Italian literature has not yet reached a level of global recognition equal to that of the great classics of the past, but it is establishing itself as one of the most vibrant and innovative in the European scene. The dissemination of literary production through digital media, the organization of prestigious awards like the "Premio Strega," and numerous translations into many languages have helped consolidate the international presence of Italian authors, making their voices increasingly heard and appreciated on a global scale.

Moreover, contemporary Italian literature stands out for its attitude of reflecting on the complexity of current society. It often addresses themes such as immigration, economic crisis, new technologies, and cultural transformations, offering a critical and in-depth view of the contemporary world. Authors like Valeria Lucentini with "L’impero delle donne", provide a clear analysis of the female condition and gender issues, while Clara Sereni, with "Il gioco delle perle di vetro", engages with social transformations and collective memories. Niccolò Ammaniti, known for novels such as "Io sono nessuno" and "Come Dio comanda," bravely tackles identity crises and social tensions, while Giorgio Fontana, author of "Per legge superiore", reflects on ethical and political dilemmas of our time. Melania G. Mazzucco, with works like "Vita" and "Il baco da seta", focuses on history, identity, and profound narratives, creating a bridge between past and present.

These authors, along with many others, contribute to making the landscape of contemporary Italian literature lively, innovative, and increasingly recognized internationally. Their work testifies to a cultural heritage in constant dialogue with the challenges and complexities of today's world, pursuing a literary identity that, while rooted in tradition, looks confidently toward the future.

NILAVRONILL: Literature encompasses every aspect of life, it blends the various shades and textures of human aspirations as well as drawbacks. It also lights up the new horizons and new dimensions of human capabilities relentlessly. I would like to know your particular viewpoints; how do you relate all these in your own writings?

ADA RIZZO: I believe that every human being is the result of the love they have received and given, of the goals achieved and the failures, of their strength and their vulnerabilities. Just like in a Caravaggio painting, where darkness is just as important as light, each person is authentic when they are able to reveal and integrate their own shadow side. This is the message I try to convey through my writings: we should not fear showing our vulnerabilities and our limits, because even these shadows have contributed to helping us appreciate the light that each of us is capable of shining.

NILAVRONILL: We cannot live immune to the sociopolitical disturbances of our surroundings. How much these disturbances make substantial impacts upon your literary self? Do you actually respond to all these factors through your words? I mean in your poetry, especially.

ADA RIZZO: It is clear that the sociopolitical upheavals that occurred at the national and international levels have had a profound impact on me both as a citizen and as a woman engaged in prose, poetry, and cultural promotion. In my books, I have addressed social issues such as diversity in "Volevo il tacco dodici?", eating disorders in "Iris ali di vetro," organ donation in "Novanta battiti al minuto," and gender violence in "Ventiquattro carati."

My collection "L’ Incanto emozioni e riflessioni" is a crossover that, through personal meditations and poems, aims to raise awareness on topics such as gender violence, the loneliness of the elderly, children's rights, youth conditions, peace, water emergency, poverty in the Global South, injustice, the African continent, and immigration.

These themes reflect some of the changes that have taken place in our society and represent a mirror of the current times, on which I wish to focus a beacon to raise awareness and suggest reflection through my prose and poetry writings. Words matter; they are the transformation of mental images and can translate into actions and behaviors that influence our perception of subjective reality and change the way we think.

Culture, therefore, is a bridge upon which to advance together, promoting human rights, justice, and peace. Poetry and writing are the pillars of this bridge between different civilizations, traditions, cultures, and geographical and mental borders.

NILAVRONILL: Is it possible to put into the words everything that as a poet you wish to express literarily? If not, why?

ADA RIZZO: I often find it difficult to verbally explain what I wish to express in writing because poetry is not about rationality; it communicates through the language of emotions, where the heart speaks rather than the mind. It is the voice of a colorful, multifaceted inner universe, made up of a thousand emotional nuances that should not be commented on or clarified, but simply… listened to and internalized.

NILAVRONILL: How would you evaluate your contemporaries and what are your aspirations for or expectation from the younger generation?

ADA RIZZO: My generation, the baby boomers, is characterized by a good amount of self-confidence and optimism about the future, despite the fact that the global economic and social situation is increasingly trending downward. I hope that the new generations, who live in such uncertain times and often find themselves forgotten by politics, will have more trust in their own abilities, ideals, and values to believe in. I trust that the new generations will be able to demonstrate their worth despite everything and everyone. They are our social fabric. They will be the ones to represent our future.

NILAVRONILL: We are almost at the end of the interview. I remain obliged to you for your participation. Now, personally I would like to know your honest opinion about Our Poetry Archive. Since April 2015 we are publishing and archiving contemporary world poetry each and every month. Thank you for sharing your views and spending much time with us.

ADA RIZZO: I am the one who should thank you, NilavroNill Shoovro, for this interview, which allowed me to emphasize my passion for writing and my great desire to continue promoting human rights and Peace through my works. I admire your constant commitment and the passion you dedicate to cultural promotion and your extraordinary project OUR POETRY ARCHIVE di Poesia. Creating a sort of "contemporary poetic database" represents a great opportunity for visibility for all of us poets, a chance to engage with different poetic voices and souls from various parts of the world, and a document to consult in order to discover and appreciate other contemporary poets from diverse cultures and traditions.

ADA RIZZO, born in Sicily in 1960, she published several novels and poems, tackling profound themes such as gender violence, eating disorders, and heart transplantation. Among her books are "Volevo il tacco dodici?", "Iris Ali di Vetro", "Novanta battiti al minuto", and "Ventiquattro Carati," works that have received numerous international awards. In addition to her literary activities, Ada Rizzo participates in cultural projects and international anthologies for peace and human rights advocacy. Her poetry has received wide recognition at an international level, and her texts have been translated into various languages. Due to the subjects covered in her books and poems the author has received several recognitions in Italy, America, Europe, Asia.

ADA RIZZO

Light In The Darkness

In the silent night, a cry

Another story of stolen dreams

Fragments of life cast aside next to a woman

who weeps for her body, her soul

No more smiles, no more promises

Shattered dreams rolling on the ground

like beads from a broken necklace

She is a warrior without weapons,

yet even so violated, she is not an object,

a shadow in the dark,

She will rise again

as she is the strength of those

who do not give up,

she is the mother, the witch, the sister,

the daughter, she is all of us women who fight to shine.

She is a full moon of light, an explosion of fire.

She is the infinite woman,

the creator of life

who defies every pain and from the darkness…

is reborn!

You Left Me A Gift

I was a child when pain took me by the hand.

I didn’t want us to become friends, but it was much stronger than me.

Like impalpable ash, it clung to my skin,

its cold whisper wrapped around my thoughts.

At first, it was a cold wind that didn’t know where to go,

bringing with it unwanted gifts:

long days, sharp as blades,

hours beating on an unheard drum.

For a long time, my heart was an echo in the silence of empty rooms,

but here, unexpectedly, a moment arrives,

I see with new eyes, I observe the world’s indifference, the solitude,

material poverty and intellectual destitution,

the anguish that gives no respite when the dark lady knocks at the door,

the promise of God who swears to be there but isn’t there to gather the pain and shattered dreams of a child, the raw flesh of war that can have no future.

I looked at pain and felt pity for it,

I took it by the hand, caressed it,

dressed it with bandages of emotions and words,

I peered into its eyes,

a black abyss of fear,

of fallen dreams, sobs, silent screams.

I embraced it, and it transformed into strength, tenderness.

It became a laugh, a light,

it became a woven with a warp and weft,

intertwined with threads of courage and hope.

So, I carry it with me,

an uncomfortable companion, but also a teacher.

A friend who wispers to me:

“Look at life, it’s a sublime mosaic,

it’s in the chaos of fragments, in the cracks that light passes through.”

My pain was a pale falling star; now it is light.

I listen to my soul, I proceed on my journey,

I know the beauty that lies in what I embrace.

I met pain,

welcomed it, and it left me a gift...

ADA RIZZO

ADA RIZZO, born in Sicily in 1960, she published several novels and poems, tackling profound themes such as gender violence, eating disorders, and heart transplantation. Among her books are "Volevo il tacco dodici?", "Iris Ali di Vetro", "Novanta battiti al minuto", and "Ventiquattro Carati," works that have received numerous international awards. In addition to her literary activities, Ada Rizzo participates in cultural projects and international anthologies for peace and human rights advocacy. Her poetry has received wide recognition at an international level, and her texts have been translated into various languages. Due to the subjects covered in her books and poems the author has received several recognitions in Italy, America, Europe, Asia, including the "Solidarity Award for Art and Civic Engagement 2024".

AGRON SHELE

Greening In Your Soul

I know that summer has touched those lands,

the grass is turning green

and the flowers are buzzing with bees’ swarm,

but I am unable to join you,

I’m simply sending a migratory bird,

to tell you that it saw my mountains

and the springs as well,

because you, who waited with so much pain,

with your walking stick imbedded firmly,

climbed the hill of sunlight,

can no longer confess as you once did in the past.

I know that mornings wake up with reflections in marble,

and the drizzle of rain turns every pedestal to gray,

but deep from the soul of the earth and spirit of the body,

love brings me back and I feel such wistful longing!

I will come at another time, for sure,

perhaps when the snow starts falling again,

amidst that white feathery snow spread over every meadow,

that will lay a blanket all the way to the stony riverbank,

because I feel

it will once again touch your majestic breath!

Parallel Lines

We read the palm of the hand

just as Delphi’s oracle did,

two parallel lines

and intertwining that never meet,

a map of bloodlines,

all in the sharp tips of the stars,

where a light waits to reawaken

and glow,

as it means to, with a hand raised in faith.

Fingers glide

in chords, according to the flavor of life,

somewhere a melody turns into a ballad,

and somewhere, in a melody, a sigh is sown.

Signs that must be read

in old destinies and ancient beliefs.

There And Here

Perhaps spring have unfolded there

and you sincerely believe you’re alive,

but the breezes and muses of a distant season

never warmed the soul.

Here, it is a different tale

and even though the freezing winter has not touched us for years,

the trees hide the buds beneath their branches

and never hasten to bloom.

There, perhaps the eruption is gracious

and the first mimosa blooms have unfolded,

here, the wild wind, is only swaying the trunks

and never learn to rest.

There, is a lightening world above the clouds

that beckons me to return

here, there’s twilight and withered evenings

dissolving like shadows over us.

AGRON SHELE

AGRON SHELE: (Albania – Belgium) He was born in Albania. Is the author of the following literary works: Poetry books, Novels and Short Stories. He has published 19 books, 13 anthologies and a serial of magazines and newspapers in Albanian and many languages! He is President of the International Poetical Galaxy “Atunis” and coordinator of International Atunis Galaxy Anthology. He is winner of international literary prizes. He is published in many newspapers, national and international magazines. Currently resides in Belgium.

AHMED FAROOQ BAIDOON

The Sneer Of Loss

Be those sentiments fleeting in that sultry garment vex,

that scythe of bygone in jubilant memorial stand,

uneasily cutting those braided tumultuous celestial hand,

Here I go, a vicar of the unknown realm,

Wandering through the Orcs' and Gollems' shack,

A boulevard of nowhere till I find the sun of pay back,

No more fib! a helpless stature shape, forging crumbs of me,

Burnt and depleted in pursuit of ecstasy,

The spheres of my prodigy dodecahedron—let alone convoluted,

In the land of wonders and meaninglessness wherein polluted,

Nothing but howling dogs, swarming herds and earthquake stampede,

That Mother Nature shall have its say:

Beware of the truth untold, you'd better not to stay,

That solitary hermit in an altar, under Providence might,

If only he could've much muckle of time for insight,

That hoax of eternity of a sinful humanity;

Isn't it a heavenly judicial cloak to apply law of security?

That quill subdued to forays of unwanted rains;

Of undulating waves of my lively plains,

And I —succumbed to a distorted worthy scroll,

Shan't I borrow a life raft stranded in a rehabilitation sanctuary survivors' toll?!

My Quill Upsurge

Uneasily borne by my poetic lines,

A melodious resonant music with echoing harbinger,

I swear in those days melted away and left a hermit,

In a microcosmic altar destitute of verdant arable ink suffering confabulation,

A withered crayon in the realm of blowing mighty winds,

I hereby, an alleged shrewd, replete of acumen, or claimed to ponder,

Strayed and aberrated in the serrated tug gyre,

The ticking getting louder and stripped of my dreamy wings,

My collage, my scrapbooks, all shattered and clipped,

Enough is enough, the undersigned shape of distorted me, proclaimed:

Ain ‘t we —mankind on the visage of abyss?

Ain ‘t we still worthy humanity or that replica of a humanoid?

Adieus! Farewell my candle wick, no longer there be a fuel to light,

Behold—the depleted stature of my inside, fragmented, perplexed with loss of sight,

That process of purgation, cannot be overnight,

From the dawn twilight till dusk of ephemeral history,

Ain ‘t there a second coming for repentance, atonement, oblation of forgiveness?!

It doth serve me right!!

Those memorial apparitions of unquestioning human grudge and abomination,

Push us towards the unnegotiable stake,

We, the entirely crippled conscientious beings —rendered through a sedative slumber, apart from wake,

Embarked upon the seven sleepers’ den fate,

Rather, here we are, the lotus eaters numbed at the heavens gate,

The obnoxious hell precipitated our eternal abode in the worldly livelihood,

The paradise of cherishing bliss, trodden by innocent martyrs, can't tell the truth!

And all of us, slapped by spoiled oblivion broth, understood?

Tell us why? Oh, my roaming dove, doth it has to be the moribund of good?

Be it the inevitable doom of amputated childhood?

All vegetation, superfluous oceans cry out for a plea:

"Will peace prevail once more, otherwise we’d better flee? "

My all wholeness lost in entangled cauldron, still that battered part of me!

Sublime mannerisms shall unleash such paginated alphabets, hither and thither,

Alas! Couldn't find out the key.

AHMED FAROOQ BAIDOON

AHMED F. BAIDOON: This is Mr. Ahmed F. Baidoon from Egypt, situated on the northern coast of the Mediterranean sea (Damietta), born in 1981, his passion for literary works started at the High School before having his degree at English Department in the university, his former writings during his study were poetic genres translated into the native mother tongue, Arabic, in addition to paraphrasing some poems for Shakespeare, William Words Worth, Yeats and Robert Frost, some highlights on the African contemporary poets and novelists, most of contemporary erudition on the Egyptian writers in literature. Still his poetic modus operandi are reflected throughout finding a manifest-clear equivalent of Arabic literary genre into English context, he is a curious enthusiastic member on the social media Facebook in the forum of Al-jiad in Jordan, Nabd Al-ebda3 Alarabi, Montada Alkalimat in Egypt, Dar Amarji paper editions in Iraq and other Arabic symposia for Poets and literators’ confederations, he won some certificates of appreciation in literary contests as excelled and topped the other colleagues in terms of short stories, micro fiction and poetic stanzas in Arabic throughout the social media, he is smitten by the English language, rather my Arabic is the most exquisite language with transcendent figures of speech by whichhe can hardly find an equivalent interpretation into other languages. As for his part, literature is not all-in-all a mere piece of writing that walks and talks, rather ascribing life to non-animate objects and grant life to the surrounding natural elements to be replete with vitality and serenity for the sake of humanity.

ANIL KUMAR PANDA

A Summer Afternoon

In the dry afternoon of summer

I watch the trees stand silently

In the yard

The branches cling to each other

Whispering only occasionally;

The leaves are but ears

Listen to the call of cuckoos

And tease their neighbours, pricking

Sometimes I wonder

If the trees need shade too

To escape the sun that goes deep

Into the pores of my skin

And let me sweat profusely

Touch Of You

Touch of you

Gives me the feeling of divine

I fall silent and pray

For the wind to blow

Soft through your hair

And touch my soul

I like to live

With the fragrance

Of your body forever

ANIL KUMAR PANDA

BARBARA DI SACCO

Blue Oasis

Reactive contagion

Lightning flash

Taken

electricity of a prickly shower

muove setting up

Animal step

sweet gluttony

grazing hands.

Graze

until satiety

the visceral caverns

relegati al tempo

discerning anarchically

theories for salvation accomplished.

Visited the pleasant meadow

of delight

The arm grasps the abandonment

Fulfilling elevation

the sought-after oasis.

Oasi blu

Contagio reattivo

flash fulmineo

dello scatto

elettricità di una doccia pungente

muove configurando

passo animale

ingordigia dolce

brucando le mani.

Pascere

sin a sazietà

i viscerali antri

relegati al tempo

discernendo anarchicamente

teorie atte alla salvezza compiuta.

Visitato l’ameno prato

del diletto

il braccio afferra l’abbandono

l’elevazione appagante

la ricercata oasi.

Afternoon

It's afternoon

in virtual watercolors

rains on punctuated piano notes

in the slow moment of reflection

Isolated from the clock, idleness

or some sort of unfinished ideas.

Like the nonsense phone call

The empty speech

No hope

of a useless repotting

in the light of the window

with a narrow air.

Eyes lost in the city

sit at the screen

Filtered into a showcase

of advertising boredom.

Pomeriggio

È pomeriggio

in acquerelli virtuali

piove su note di piano scandite

nel momento lento di riflessione

isolato dall’orologio, l’ozio

o una sorta di idee inconcluse.

Come la telefonata no sense

il discorso vuoto

la nulla speranza

di un rinvaso inutile

alla luce della finestra

con aria stretta.

Occhi perduti in città

siedon allo schermo

filtrati in una vetrina

di pubblicitaria noia.

BARBARA DI SACCO

BARBARA DI SACCO is an Italian poet and writer, born in Tuscany in 1964. She puts her own reflections on paper, various torments of her soul singing about love romantically and perhaps with a démodé heart, telling stories and languor. The dream is for her an arcane, mystical place where her poetry came to light...This is also one of his interesting stories.

Barbara Di Sacco è poetessa, scrittrice italiana nata nel 1964 in Toscana. La propria poesia in versi liberi, canta amore, attualità, esponendo riflessioni, conflitti interior colorando ricordi e paesaggi di metafore. In una musicalità ritrovata nel tempo, gioca con modernità spersa, cercando senso e sentiment per una società che ha dimenticato in gran parte riferimenti e radici, ciò che così è tanto importante al fine di sapere chi siamo per affacciarsi alla realtà del buon futuro. Nel suo laboratorio creativo, ella compone puzzle di parole perché a memoria torni il senso del vivere amando tutto ciò che a noi è legato dal tempo, nella storia rappresentativa.

BARBAROS İRDELMEN

Once Upon A Time

One day on a farm an unnecessary palace rises

Famous for her cunning and bitchiness

An angel in make-up an arrogant one with his gang

He begins to live in it with its temples and clergy

Money starts to be worshipped

The palace soon became famous

At night the darkness starts to work

A false light shine in the tower

Reaches to the eyes of travelers

Reminiscent of the Pied Piper

Irresistible, almost mesmerizing

A melody is heard trembling with passion

He drags the ignorant man and woman to the palace

Rich and poor, farmer and laborer

Drifts merchant teacher soldier artist and shepherd

A grim-faced eunuch

He opens the door in that crowd

He finds money-loving tyrants

Softly through the doorway into the palace

Inside, all the covers are embroidered with pearls

Feather down, down, soft bedding

Around the tantalizing false wealth

the oppressors are united

At every dawn, with the first rays of the sun,

A white-clad, anxious figure appears

At the palace window, suffering in silence.

With eyes full of fear and worry, they gaze—

If the light reveals the surroundings, alas,

The palace will vanish, along with all it hides within

I Am Innocent

They took me in for a bargain

And locked me away.

From the narrow slit of my cell,

My sorrowful gaze flows out—

Each bird soaring in the blue sky brings me pain.

Like for everyone else,

They remind me too of thieves roaming free.

No curse, no song remains on my lips.

Without my heavy sword or iron armor,

Only the battle for democracy fills my mind.

A shield of stone

Has encased and riveted me.

No arrow, no blade touches it.

My steed runs outside—without me.

The high walls of the prison,

My shield and stone armor,

The iron bars of the dungeon—

O time, flow faster!

This new garment suffocates me.

Take these off—

Slander dressed me like a jester.

The filthy hands of appointed, corrupted demons

Must never touch the stirrup of my innocence

BARBAROS İRDELMEN

Dr. BARBAROS İRDELMEN, born in 1952, is a writer poet translator and a retired medical doctor. He lives in Istanbul, Turkey. His poems have been selected for anthologies, poetry festivals and selection books in Turkey and abroad; he is a poetry columnist for Edebiyat Magazin Newspaper, a writer for Kybele Culture and Art Magazine, a member of the editorial board of Kirpi Literature and Thought Magazine, a member of the research and editorial board of Papirüs Magazine and a member of the Writers Union of Turkey. He has ensured that Poems Without Borders, which has been published in nearly forty different languages since 1984 with its initiatives, started to be published in Turkish as of July 2024. He is a member of the family of poem translators of ITHACA Foundation/ Spain

Kısa biyografi: 1952 doğumlu Dr. Barbaros İrdelmen, yazar, şair, çevirmen ve emekli tıp doktorudur. Türkiye'de İstanbul'da yaşıyor. Şiirleri yurt içi ve yurt dışında antolojilere, şiir festivallerine ve seçme kitaplara seçilmiş; Edebiyat Magazin Gazetesi'nde şiir köşe yazarlığı, Kybele Kültür ve Sanat Dergisi'nde yazar, Kirpi Edebiyat ve Düşünce Dergisi yayın kurulu üyesi, Papirüs Dergisi araştırma ve yayın kurulu üyesi ve Türkiye Yazarlar Birliği üyesidir. Girişimleriyle 1984 yılından bu yana kırka yakın farklı dilde yayınlanan Sınır Tanımayan Şiirler'in Temmuz 2024'ten itibaren Türkçe olarak da yayımlanmaya başlamasını sağladı. ITHACA Vakfı/ İspanya'nın şiir çevirmenleri ailesinin bir üyesidir.

BILL LESLIE

Talking With God Late At Night

God,

you are never going to show me the sign,

are you?

My silent God.

I always must guess

what you’re thinking.

Apparently, certainty is for others,

for me, I just make mistakes.

I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling,

until, giving up, I get up

and grab my pen,

as though my pitiful musings

amount to a hill of beans.

Strange, isn’t it,

how poets think they know things

that others can’t see?

It’s all a bit silly

this pretend game we play.

God,

won’t you let me rest?

ease my doubts,

let me slip away

to a deep dreamless sleep.

To a new day,

a new man,

certain of my fate!

At last the sky starts to lighten,

I can hear the birds

begin to sing.

So, I’ll make another cup of tea

and begin again.

And maybe today is the day

my reluctant God

will begin to speak.

Loose Fitting Clothes

My doctor asked if I were a poet,

I was suddenly speaking in rhyme,

she said, “Turn your head and cough.”

“No, no” I said. “Everything’s fine.”

listening to my heartbeat,

studying my response,

she said, “what is this strange obsession?”

puzzled by my nonchalance.

a dozen rhymes spill from my pocket,

while searching for spare change.

a little posey, quickly forgotten,

that look in your eye, dark & strange.

mote of dust, tick of fluff,

studied with a delicate hand.

lost feather, a seashell, bit of bone,

a boy’s hidden treasure, tiny & grand.

The diagnosis was quick,

though treatment was by degree.

She dashed off the prescription:

the cure was worse than the disease!?

A strange malady has befallen me;

my heart can break one more time!

The surprise was how easy it was,

I should see that as a sign.

She smiled, “Your numbers look fine.”

the good is up, the bad is down,

we’ll see you in a few months’ time.

that is -- if you’re still around.

I gather my things as

reality slides away.

the urgent ding, the world burns,

I stumble back into my day.

I want you to feel my heart one more time

make the tiniest thing grand,

lose myself in this madness,

one more touch of your hand.

One more breath out, and one

OUR POETRY ARCHIVE

Pages