ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA

My Trip To China

I take a long journey to China in my dreams

It's enough for me to find a white cloud in the shape of a dragon

and I can travel with it through heavenly spaces.

Together, we will bring life-giving raindrops as a gift.

Looking from above, I can see the winding Great Wall,

roofs of temples and water glittering on rice fields.

Our soaring paths are lit by paper lanterns,

hung like colorful dots in the wind.

I admire the meanders of the rivers - Yangtze River and Huang Ho,

beautiful terraces similar to patchwork bedspreads

which are covering the majestic Dongchuan Hills,

and Shin Lin formations as gray as the petrified forest

I believe that one day I will go to the Middle Kingdom

I will tie my poems with a red ribbon and go on a journey.

Today I am wearing a jade bracelet,

a symbol of harmony and happiness, the beloved Chinese stone.

Flower Garden

Mother spread a carpet on the fertile ground,

by the damp ribbon of a stream.

Woven of many shapes and colors,

on the canvas of sun’s golden rays,

in seeds and rhizomes it stores

the memory of the beauty of past years.

In the morning,

the eyes of flowers moistened by dew,

intensely flash with all colors

like small pieces of stained glass in church windows.

The evening subtly paints the landscape over

with interplay of light and shadow, and adds a shade of gray.

The garden abides by the laws of nature,

its heart beating to the pace of the seasons.

Both subject to the will of man and independent,

variable in its unbridled beauty,

constantly evades the reign of the creator

– the gardener.

Homeless Cat

I observe a homeless cat.

Distrust is hidden in his green eyes,

fear can be seen in the spiked hair

and his paws are always ready to run.

Fate is unkind to him,

it has given the common coat.

People do not admire him

and nobody looks into the cat’s soul.

Always hungry and scared,

wandering through the surrounding backyards,

he peeks in the urban garbage.

Sometimes he catches a mouse.

There is no chance of soft pillows,

the abundance of meat and warm milk.

He does not know the caressing touch of the hand

and the voice of one calling gently- kitty, kitty…

Sometimes he visits the homeless,

They understand each other without words.

The food for a small companion of misery

is waiting in the rusty tin.

ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA