Wednesday, August 1, 2018

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA



ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

PORTRAIT MADE OF  CLOUDS

I looked out the window

I saw the  blue garden of sky,
where white clouds bloom
like shapely peonies.

Wind - eternal Cupid
plays with them
It composed transitory portraits

I see our faces.
Mirage - delusion ... guess






INDIANS

For many centuries, the cold waters of the oceans flooded the ice bridge
And old Asia has forgotten about the existence of a new land – America.
Frosts and the white desert blocked the trails of human migrations.
Those, who passed, went towards the Sun and greenery.

There is silence, as the tramp of buffalo herds passed and the dust settled.
The slender tents disappeared and winds have blown fumes from the campfires.
Now golden ears of wheat reign on the vast plains
And blusterous plumes of corn conquer the landscape.

Nothing is left of the past.
The times of brave warriors are gone irrevocably
Although the stone arrowheads are still stuck in the ground
And ancient songs are humming by a few old men with eagle features.

Manitou abandoned the prairie and left his brave people.
The Indians learned the taste of failure, the bitterness of new life.
They vegetate trapped in the vapours of alcohol - the gift of a white man.
History added a new chapter when integration was closed in reservations.






A TRIP TO AKSUM

To the meeting of the newcomers from  the distant sites
The ancient ruins and biblical stories go to the fore.
The stories praising the name of the mighty King Solomon
And the expedition of a beautiful ruler come back like a mantra.

The fragments of the palace protrude from the sun-heated ground.
In the preserved pools, water has been glistening for centuries.
Thirsty traveller, take advantage of the generous
Queen of Sheba and quench your thirst with the gift of life.


You will find the  faith and the  fear of the Almighty
In an acacia chest protected by archangels.
Do not look boldly at the gift of God wrapped in the curtains.
Bend your head and turn your gaze humbly towards the ground.

On the horizon, a huge stela stretches out to the sky
It is a house of forever closed windows and doors.
Reborn from five pieces of monolith,
Returned to his homeland from the Roman captivity.

The mysterious history of the former empire
Is hidden by the sand of the jealous desert
The wind pours grains under the Ethiopian sky
Like moments of time trapped in the quartz


ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA




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