NORIS ROBERTS

 

NORIS ROBERTS

Your love… 

Your love is woven into my soul

and it is in your body that my skin found its nest;

in the aroma of your breath my thoughts are centered

and day by day it blossoms in the light of my gaze

 

Your love is the most inedible feeling,

my fulcrum, a reality that does not end,

two bodies that love each other beyond life

 

And I have to repeat, again and again,

that your love is knitted into my soul,

with the thousand ways God created to love

and never forget you

 

I let my love fly to your eyes,

among the spaces of your heart,

in a diaphanous silence,

to express itself freely like a full moon

and never to lose you

©Noris Roberts

 

Tú amor..

 

Tú amor está tejido en mi alma

y es en tu cuerpo donde mi piel encontró su nido;

en el aroma de tu aliento está centrado mi pensamiento y

día a día florece en el trasluz de mi mirada

 

Tú amor es el inolvidable sentimiento,

mi punto de apoyo,

la realidad que no termina,

dos cuerpos que se aman más allá de la vida

 

Y he de repetir, una y otra vez,

que tu amor está tejido en mi alma,

con las mil formas que Dios creó para amarte

y nunca olvidarte

 

Dejo volar mi amor entre tus ojos,

entre los espacios de tu corazón,

dentro el diáfano silencio

para que se manifieste libremente

como luna llena y no perderte jamás

©Noris Roberts

 

Today I Resign To My Words

 

I drown my feelings,

agonize, loneliness scorches, awakens my grief;

not knowing if the pain leaned in tears,

but there was rain in my heart

... and I remained silent

 

In my hollowed mourning,

my lucid words urged me to move ahead with hope,

however, in my journey I encountered ironic glances

and sometimes, with audacity, put my life on the line

 

Being alive, how does one avoid the wounds inflicted by humans?

Why not escape if the pain is harsh as metal and the crying is a flood of blood?

 

This is not my best poem,

it is a farewell note that has no musical prominence,

color or rhymes

 

And the soul cries defeated ...

 

Perhaps my words will calmly rest where they will not be a burden,

in the beauty of the impossible

Why not escape from the wounds inflicted by mankind?

©Noris Roberts

 

 

Hoy renuncio a la palabra

 

Ahogo mis sentimientos,

agonizo, la soledad calcina, despierta mi tristeza;

no se si fue el dolor asomado en mi llanto

más había lluvia en mi corazón… y guardé silencio

 

En mí ahuecado duelo, mis lucidas palabras

llamaban a la marcha siempre esperanzadas,

sin embargo, en mí travesía, hallé miradas irónicas

y en muchas me jugué la vida con osadía

 

Estando viva ¿cómo se evitan las heridas infligidas por los humanos?

¿Porqué no escapar si el dolor es tan duro como el metal

y el llanto es un torrente de sangre?

 

Este no es mí mejor poema,

es una nota de despedida que no lleva relieves musicales,

colores o rimas

 

Y el alma llora vencida…

 

Quizás mis letras reposen donde no estorben,

en la belleza de lo imposible…

¿Porqué no escapar de las heridas ejecutadas por la humanidad?

©Noris Roberts

 

 

To partially open the door of my poem "To Die and Resurrect", these are words that are only a thorough touch of silent wounds which I carry on my skin. My execution doesn’t come as a surprise in the blackness of the night. I only know that I died and resurrected to let the water rise from the ground and not let my brothers die of thirst.

 

To Die And Resurrect…

 

Under a savage sky,

of looks that stifle,

I seek peace;

a bloody battle is what I find

 

I perceive,

in this soulless world,

the amalgamation of the imperfect

with the inhuman

 

My undeserved words disapproved,

my memory eclipsed;

stabs strengthen me and I go on to fight

over the wrath that shakes the nakedness of my pain;

the scorn stains the whiteness of the paper

where I write the inventory of bitter offenses

 

I struggle with words parading through my veins

without sparing grief,

loving and hating, to die and resurrect;              

serenity and forgiveness come;

on my knees facing the altar

 

The slow slashing that cut my petals allow me to express:

"although it doesn't matter if I'm a rose or a thorn,

and feel in every breath the drought that I exhale,

I will not stop fighting”

©Noris Roberts

 

Para entreabrir las puertas de mí poema: ”Morir y Resucitar”, éstas letras que son apenas el roce minucioso de las heridas silentes que llevo en mí piel…, no me sorprende la negrura de la noche que ajusticia. Sólo sé que morí y resucité para que emergiera el agua de la tierra y no murieran mis hermanos de sed.

 

Morir y resucitar…

 

Bajo un cielo salvaje, 

de miradas que ahogan,

busco la paz;

sólo encuentro una sangrienta batalla

 

Percibo,

en este mundo desalmado,

la amalgama de lo imperfecto

con lo inhumano

 

Vedadas mis desmerecidas palabras, se eclipsa mi memoria;

las punzadas me robustecen y paso a luchar,

sobre la cólera que cimbra la desnudez de mí dolor,

el desprecio que mancha la blancura del papel donde escribo,

el inventario de amargas afrentas

 

Lucho con las palabras que desfilan por mis venas

sin escatimar el padecimiento,

amando, odiando hasta morir y resucitar;              

sobreviene la serenidad, el perdón;

de rodillas frente al altar

 

El lento zarpazo que cortó mis pétalos

me permite expresar:

“aunque da lo mismo ser rosa o espina,

y sienta en cada aliento la sequía que exhalo,

no dejare de luchar”

©Noris Roberts

  

Then…

Undress me,

bring me once again to your reality

 

Reality that precedes a sort of mutual spell,

of a visceral symbiosis, inherent to our lives,

to a life that coincides

 

Lead me to the fountain of life

and bathe me with your warm waters,

divine and imperishable

 

Shower me with a sumun of pleasure

and that is feeling you close,

inside me

 

Dress me in deep feeling,

dress me with your skin

 

Then return me to my solitude,

to my thoughts, to a paper, to a pen,

to my writing, to cold walls

 

Then, awaiting…

©Noris Roberts

 

Entonces…

 

Desnúdame,

tráeme una vez más a tu realidad

 

Realidad que antecede a esta suerte de embrujo mutuo,

de una simbiosis visceral, inherente a nuestras vidas,

a una vida que coincide

 

Condúceme a la fuente de la vida

y báñame con tus aguas cálidas,

divinas e imperecederas

 

Báñame con el sumun del placer

que es sentirte cerca,

dentro de mí

 

Vísteme de hondo sentir,

vísteme con tu piel

 

Entonces… así

devuélveme a la soledad,

a mis pensamientos, al papel, al bolígrafo,

a mis escritos, a las paredes frías,

 

Entonces, a la espera…

©Noris Roberts

 

How Does It Feel?

 

How does it feel

when a dagger hovers over life,

when anarchy oppresses with brutality,

when dreams dissolve

and let no traces to contemplate?

 

How does it feel

when everything is swarmed by violence,

insensitivity; clear and humiliating absence of piety?

 

We are all instruments for an occasion;

others are escorted only by ambition

 

Oblivious to the world,

dawn is diluted between the breach of vigil and stupor;

the truth is bitter and punishment has no reason

 

I feel that what I’ve lived was not for me;

this jail becomes transparent before all

 

I watch the birds enjoying freedom and I ask myself:

am I life or the scrap of an empty facade?

 

Ultimately,

the jailer will judge me

before the abstract freedom arrives

©Noris Roberts

 

 

¿Qué se siente?

 

¿Qué se siente

cuándo rueda el puñal sobre la vida,

cuándo la anarquía oprime con severidad,

cuándo los sueños se disuelven

y no dejan rastros que contemplar?

 

¿Qué se siente cuando todo está rodeado de violencia,

insensibilidad; clara y humillante ausencia de piedad?

 

Todos somos instrumentos para una ocasión;

otros lo escoltan sólo la ambición

 

Ajenos ante el mundo,

se diluye el alba entre la brecha de la vigilia y el estupor;

la verdad es amarga y el castigo sin razón

 

Presiento que lo vivido no me corresponde;

esta cárcel se hace transparente ante todos

 

Miro los pájaros gozando de libertad y me pregunto:

¿soy vida o el desecho  de una fachada vacía?

 

Al final,

el carcelero me juzgará

antes que llegue la figurada Libertad

©Noris Roberts

 

NORIS ROBERTS

 

NORIS ROBERTS: She was born in the city of Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela, she received her Ph.D. in Commercial Law at the Universidad Santa Maria, in Caracas. In 2002 she published "The Mirror of the Soul”, a limited edition that was privately sold to help fund a healthcare foundation for abandoned and poverty-stricken children. She hopes to soon publish two collections of her poems, one of them being a connection between injustice and hope. She is currently writing a book called “Fragments”.  She has participated in multitudinous online literary magazines and in several poetry anthologies. She has two websites: “De Letra en Letra” and “Palabras Pinceladas” She was honored by being appointed Peace Ambassador for Cercle Universel de la Paix representing Venezuela and was awarded with Naji Naaman’s Literary Prize (honorary member of Maison Naaman pour la Culture). She has been slowly carrying out a project on YouTube in where her poems are read or sung by people from many countries and languages. It intends to convey a message of love, peace, freedom and the principal goal is to share, unite people, avoid radical political positions, and to bypass differences due to religious beliefs or creeds. She struggles with the conviction that together all can build a better world through love, tolerance and peace, without boundaries or prejudices.