Gabriela Peinado Bertalmio

S'ils disent de moi

Ils te traitent de folle

Audacieuse et difficile

Ils te diront que tu es bizarre

Imprévisible obséie

Superbe et mal élevée… Voir plus

 Yatti Sadeli 

Yatti Sadeli

Poetry

💕RIVER OF GLORY🌺💕

I give you my wounded heart

If you like it, I'll give it all

But know this is not a hug from the wind

on dead leaves.

Creak of windows and doors

As if giving a voice 

painful suffering

Maybe that's what I know

Draining the vibrations of life.

In the ocean you are a Shark

In the mountains you are a Leopard

But in a meadow or valley

You are the River Of Glory.

But

I don't know

How to live without you

Because you are far from me.

If you come again

Don't look for me

In the depths of the sea

Or in the heat of the desert.

But look for me under the full moon

Beneath the heavenly secret you must seek me.

After you find me

Let's look at the moon together

Even though you don't care about the world

Swim in the water of your heart

I'll see your smile and your eyes still in wonder

And all of that is hidden in the shell of love

But where? Wait . . . Somewhere at night in hearts and whispers

Even though I've lost faith

in the whispering wind

Or in the moving clouds

Also I have lost my ability

to write enchanting poetry for you.

           *****

 

Concetta La Placa

COLORS OF POETRY.

With the colors

of the purest emotions,

guarded

within the heart,

we paint the world,

sweep away

the gray soot

of sadness,

ungratefulness,

indifference,

and we sing praises to love,

to peace,

the unique

and irreplaceable gifts of life,

the only colors

that will make humanity

shine brighter

again and always.

© Concetta La Placa 

In Italian language

COLORI DELLA POESIA.

Con i colori

delle emozioni più pure,

custodite

nel cuore,

dipingiamo il mondo,

spazziamo via

la fuliggine grigia

della tristezza,

ingratitudine,

dell'indifferenza,

e cantiamo le lodi dell'amore,

alla pace,

all'unico

e insostituibili doni della vita,

gli unici colori

che renderanno l'umanità

brillare di più

ancora e sempre.

© Concetta La Placa

• 
  

Iris Calif 

 Photography Combined Vith Painting: The Artist Zehava Neter

Model: Iris Calif

Iris Calif, Resident of the State of Israel, poet, writer, translator of poetry (to Hebrew) and dancer. Iris is also in charge of all foreign connection for the cultural and literature internet magazine "in direction of the wind",  editor and translator Universal Poetry at "Mokasini" Magazine Culture & Lifestyle Magazine, Editor and translator in the "World Poetry" of the literature website "Rooms".

​

member of the Composers' Association of Hebrew authors and publishers in Israel named “ ACUM. Iris is Award Winner of 2023: The International Best Poets & POETS: THE JOURNAL OF RENDITION OF INTERNATIONAL POETRY (ITRC)[Multilingual] [China]

The Board of Directors of World Union of Poetry Magazines

November 18, 2023.

Iris was awarded a diploma from "The Russian Professional Writers Union" and the international magazine "Arina NN", registered in the Ministry of Culture of Russia for her contribution to world culture "International Poetic Community" 2022, She is the head of the Israeli liaison department of the Hong Kong Literature and Arts Magazine.

and a member of the Association of artists and writers of the World SAPS

Iris is also serve on the editorial board of the World Poetry Yearbook 2024 (English edition)

She holds an honorary doctorate from the International Forum for Creativity, Humanity and Coexistence, Kingdom of Morocco.

​

Iris is 49 years old: married and mother of three daughters.

Her three books were publisher:

In a fascinating (or magic) lane breathes (or blows) Lolita on On 2001

Wild moon on 2017, And The daughter of GOD on 2020.

She is currently working on her fourth book of scripture.

​

Her poems have been published on radio, television, magazines in Israel and abroad, literary websites in Israel and around the world Exhibited in Exhibited in prestigious exhibitions in Israel, the Internet and newspapers international, and have been translated by international poets into Spanish, Bengali, Chinese, Russian Albanian, Turkish, Nepali, Arabic Assamese and Italian

Her poetry reflects the inner journey of her soul, which looks through love, dreams life, and breathes holy worlds, in the hidden spirit, and is a symbol and expression of her victory over Anorexia, and her choice of choosing life and love with courage.

 "THE VOICE OF THE NILE ANGELS CARRYING THE GOD DOVE OF MY SPIRIT BODY"

IRIS CALIF  

THE IRIS; A HUMAN UNIVERSAL FLOWER "

DAUGHTER 0F HEAVEN SPIRIT DOVE OF THE ETERNAL LAND OF PEACE LIVING"- IRIS CALIF 

God

King of the Angels of the Worlds 

Our Father in Heaven

           Brave Yaakov

       Lord of all deeds   Lord of the all land 

  In the halo light of the Nile Angels   

      The night crowns his eyes  

God's bearing my body in front of the virtue of the hidden fire of the royal Moon 

And in the creation of my heart a spirit of love is written

Blessings of the daughter of God

Nude writing lyrical holy poets

Touching A vertical stack of sacred hymns 

Kissing in front of heavenly things in paradise

       And in the "Bible" that speaks of the honegcomb offering

     The sun pours out lovers

        A living soul grows

      Holy Silence kneels 

       An incarnation of an essential melody

The voice of my soul is buried in the dripstone of God

         And it shall be called the splendid rain of the heavens

       Of my poem And the Allowed in land

  And in the fields of everlasting blossom 

  I'm the Iris a human universal flower

Daughter of God

The Daughter of Jerusalem of love

Daughter of Human

  Daughter of Eve

 Daughter of Isaac and Maria  

Daughter of the sun

Daughter of the moon

Daughter of the stars

Daughter of the land

 Daughter of the worlds

Daughter of life

    Daughter of the heaven spirit dove of the eternal land of the peace living

'All rights reserved to poet Iris Calif '

SPARKING WATER – IRIS CALIF

The Angel of the night wraps in his wings the universe of our love
My torn body in the rope of world silence breaks through its gates
And in my sanctity of my lips

Sparkling Water

My Love
To the stream of your existence, I am creator of my desire
In the rain caressing of the iris simulates your breaths
Naked in the passion urge of the Heaven raises your clouds
Cipher in your life

Spirit of my souls

Rana Moqtader 

  ‏ My eyes....

Before his look of boredom and laziness 

The window trembles 

The well enquired slips

In the middle of the cold

In the darkness of a miserable day

The order of destruction

 Between the diagonal fingers of the vortex

 From the mouth of hell is passed

The sorrowful hours are spinning on the left hand of the world

The dim light sticks to the glass on the globe

And you say to a sigh, 

Why do you always cry because you miss the window?

The wind of patience makes holes in the window

In the isolation of the room and stops due to its lacking

Not being in diffusion 

But I will be scattered like a tree 

That has lost all its fruit 

At the unkind hands of the axe

It is the shoulder of the needy that carries the night and carries the morning

And all his taste ends in the look of a crisp tree branch

And doesn’t let the minutes be more accurate

And the flowers may burn in the vase of life

The branches are not splashed from any night

So that the god of moon does not suffer gloom

Because inside the empty shirt is the smell of a woman's hands

Whose dream was seen

So, come and with your gentle, warm and passionate hands

Step onto my eyes 

So that I may be saved from the rhyme of the devilry of night

As the high hands and reading of Qunoot

In the blue lotus sky

Have not proved to be of any use. 

#Rena _ Moqtadar

Translated by :

Khan Hasnain Aaqib

India 

********** 

 چشمم....

روی نگاه کسالت اور 

پنجره می لغزد

لیزهای پژوهیده 

میان هجوم سرما 

درتیره روزی معذب 

فرمان نابودی  را از دهن دوزخ 

درمیان انگشتان مورب گرداب 

صادر میکند 

ساعات ملال آوردردست چپ دنیا میچرخد 

نور مبهم روی کره خاکی به شیشه می چسپد 

وبه آه میگویید که چرا همیشه ازحسرت پنجره اشک میریزدو

باد شکیبایی پنجره را سوراخ سوراخ میسازد

در انزوا اتاق و

دست بر میدارد  از فقدان از

نبودن درانتشار

واما من پاشیده می شوم شبیه درختی که   همه حاصلش را دربرابر  دستان نامهربان و خصیص تبر ازدست داده و به

شانه ی محتاجست  که شب را درنوردد وصبح را به بدوش کشد

وهمه سلیقه اش تمام شود در نگاه شاخه ترد درختی

و نگذارد که

دقایق دق تر شوند 

وگیسوان گل درگلدان زندگی بسوزد

وشاخه ها ازهیچ شبی شتک نخورد

تا خدای ماه رنجور نشود

چون که درون پیراهن خالی اوهنوزبوی دست زنی است

که خوابش را  دیده 

پس بیابادستان لطیف وگرم وشیفته ات  روی چشمانم قدم بگذار

تا از قافیه فتنه ی شب نجات یابم چون 

ازدستان بلند وخوانش قنوت 

در آسمان آبی نیلوفری 

هرگز کاری ساخته نیست. 

#رنا _مقتدر

 PENSANDO. 

Glória Pereira!

Eu pensei onde vive o amor? 

As vezes precisamos pegar somente na mão e dizer estou aqui. 

Meu olhar distante é em.busca de resposta que eu não ganhei...

Simplesmente fui jogada em um  canto. 

O tempo passou formou-se grandes encantos em minha volta. Descobri que o amor tem que ser amar-se primeiro. 

Assim  hoje  estou liberta das amarguras. 

Não sou mais  uma jovem ingênua. 

Trago comigo  um grande amor !

Glória Pereira!.

Direitos autorais reservados Autora/Escritora

 Título

LIBRO DE PIEL

Autora 

Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas

País

Costa Rica

Libro de piel que tiembla vibrante.

Hojas perladas de luces brillantes, titilantes de rocios ancestrales, amasando cadenas que no son mi dolor.

Angustia de parto en cada hoja perlada

que cuenta sin tinta los destinos...

Igual que la historia que busca velas encendidas, para no estar muerta en páramos de olvido.

Si están muertas...

¿Entonces ya no piensan en nada?

Pero no es cierto. ¡sus voces están pidiendo justicia desde el átomo y la tierra ensangrentada!

Hay hombres que son puñales de muerte. Tienen conciencia, tienen alma, pero ambas están dormidas.

Donde se calla el silencio...

Se mutila el espíritu igual que este reclamo que mi ser proclama.

El cuerpo se desgrana, igual como fue masacrada esta piel tan mía.

Antes yo bebía luces de estrellas,

bajaba la luna con el canto mío.

El agresor es como tu amor sacrificando los sueños míos.

Primero me engañaste con flores, tulipanes, rosas y asucenas.

Quien diría que todas ellas serían para mi Sepelio, dictando mi condena.

Quien diría que mis amigas están muertas y que yo sigo viva.

¡Mentiroso, a mi me dejaste muerta en vida, mientras hablabas con elocuencia.

Susurrabas te amo a mi oído, besabas mi mejilla...me arrancaste el corazón desde adentro...

¡Me quitaste la piel, me anulaste la vida!

Me llevaste a un lugar donde los huesos agonizan.

Yo no tengo odio ni venganza, mis labios no están llenos de perdones.

Desde cualquier universo...

 Exijo justicia.

Puedes ahorrarte las palabras...

Porque matar a una mujer no tiene justificaciones.

 [29/04, 16:13] A L O N D R A "Artista": Asucenas

[29/04, 16:16] A L O N D R A "Artista": Qualification

SKIN BOOK

Author

Alondra Gutierrez Vargas

Country

Costa Rica

Vibrant trembling skin book.

Pearly leaves of brilliant lights, flickering with ancestral dews, kneading chains that are not my pain.

Anguish of childbirth in each pearly leaf

that tells the destinations without ink...

Just like the story that looks for lit candles, so as not to be dead in wastelands of oblivion.

If they are dead...

So you don't think about anything anymore?

But it's not true. Their voices are calling for justice from the atom and the bloody earth!

There are men who are daggers of death. They have conscience, they have soul, but both are asleep.

Where the silence is silent...

The spirit is mutilated just like this claim that my being proclaims.

The body is torn apart, just as this skin, so mine, was massacred.

Before I drank starlight,

The moon went down with my song.

The aggressor is like your love sacrificing my dreams.

First you fooled me with flowers, tulips, roses and ascennas.

Who would have thought that all of them would be for my Burial, dictating my sentence.

Who would have thought that my friends are dead and that I am still alive.

Liar, you left me dead while you spoke eloquently.

You whispered I love you in my ear, you kissed my cheek... you ripped my heart out from the inside...

You took away my skin, you annulled my life!

You took me to a place where the bones agonize.

I have no hatred or revenge, my lips are not full of forgiveness.

From any universe...

 I demand justice.

You can save the words...

Because killing a woman has no justifications.

 Título

LIBRO DE PIEL

Autora 

Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas 

País

Costa Rica

Libro de piel que tiembla vibrante.

Hojas perladas de luces brillantes, titilantes de rocios ancestrales, amasando cadenas que no son mi dolor.

Angustia de parto en cada hoja perlada

que cuenta sin tinta los destinos...

Igual que la historia que busca velas encendidas, para no estar muerta en páramos de olvido.

Si están muertas...

¿Entonces ya no piensan en nada?

Pero no es cierto. ¡sus voces están pidiendo justicia desde el átomo y la tierra ensangrentada!

Hay hombres que son puñales de muerte. Tienen conciencia, tienen alma, pero ambas están dormidas.

Donde se calla el silencio...

Se mutila el espíritu igual que este reclamo que mi ser proclama.

El cuerpo se desgrana, igual como fue masacrada esta piel tan mía.

Antes yo bebía luces de estrellas,

bajaba la luna con el canto mío.

El agresor es como tu amor sacrificando los sueños míos.

Primero me engañaste con flores, tulipanes, rosas y asusenas.

Quien diría que todas ellas serían para mi cepelio, dictando mi condena.

Quien diría que mis amigas están muertas y que yo sigo viva.

¡Mentiroso, a mi me dejaste muerta en vida, mientras hablabas con elocuencia.

Susurrabas te amo a mi oído, besabas mi mejilla...me arrancaste el corazón desde adentro...

¡Me quitaste la piel, me anulaste la vida!

Me llevaste a un lugar donde los huesos agonizan.

Yo no tengo odio ni venganza, mis labios no están llenos de perdones.

Desde cualquier universo...

 Exijo justicia.

Puedes ahorrarte las palabras...

Porque matar a una mujer no tiene justificaciones.

Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas cantautora y poetisa humanista costarricense 

Guss Quiróz Manager Editor 

Isis Gutierrez Director 

Marco Leandro Periodista 

Christian Ariel diseño gráfico

 

Kokul ‘al Qutzalcóatl

Estrellas de vida

Concédeme la libertad de expresarte 

mi sentir, que se desprende de la odisea,

de quemarme con el cielo…

Te observo, mi luna hermosa,

deslumbrante, ¡cuando no hay estrellas!

En esta silenciosa noche el firmamento es un yermo

y en medio de la nada allí estás tú, luna,

sonriente, enamorada del río de estrellas

que ahora, se han mudado a la tierra.

¡Oh, inmenso grial de vida!

¡Tu luz no ha de opacar al cielo!,

porque el reino es de los que saben amar

porque el reino es el cielo en la corona del monte,

aun, cuando la distancia sea larga.

¡Oh, agua sagrada!, recorres mundos intangibles,

afloras en el momento preciso 

para dar la paz en plenitud, 

para ser amor eterno,

para convertir desiertos, en edenes.

Gloria Rios Ayzú

(Kokul ‘al Qutzalcóatl)

 بقلم الدكتور محمد بنعبد الله التشكيلي الأكاديمي العالمي 

يحتفل العالم بيوم الأرض، في 22 أبريل من كل عام، لتسليط الضوء على أهمية حماية البيئة، وبهدف زيادة الوعي المجتمعي بالتغيير الواسع الذي يتعرض له سطح الأرض، من تلوث وانتشار للأوبئة والكوارث الطبيعية، والذي انعكس على أزيد من 3 ملايير و 200 مليون شخص استنادا إلى برنامج أممي للبيئة، وأمام هذا الوضع، تتعالى نداءات لدعم حماية البيئة، والحفاظ على التنوع البيولوجي، وإعداد خطط منهجية، وطنية ودولية من أجل التقليص من التغيرات المناخية، وتحويل اقتصاداتنا وجعلها اقتصادات صديقة للبيئة، بالإضافة إلى ضرورة استعادة النظام الإيكولوجي، والعلماء اليوم يدقون ناقوس الخطر أكثر مما مضى، ويعتبرون السنوات العشر القادمة محورية، ويتخذون شعارا لهم هذا العام 2024، " الكوكب مقابل البلاستيك " وذلك لزيادة الوعي بأضرار التلوث البلاستيكي، وبخفض إنتاج جميع مواده، لإحراز تصالح مع البيئة، علما أن الحرائق والأعاصير والفيضانات وغيرها، ظواهر تعد كلها برأي الخبراء رسائل عاجلة، للعمل بجدية من أجل الانسجام مع الطبيعة، وإنقاذ كوكبنا لتعزيز تنمية مستدامة بهذا العالم...

        الفنان : الدكتور محمد بنعبد الله

 By Ana María Mendiola Cano

LA ASPILLERA 

Autor: Ana María Mendiola Cano 

M.C.Alondra 2024

País: Perú 

Siento un vacío en mi afligido ser,

de sentir la cercanía del paso del ocaso,

de sentir la fría noche alargando sus horas en el aposento sin abrigo, sin luz de un día siguiente,

donde al abrir mis ojos vería  tu sonrisa entrar por la aspillera,  dándome alegría. 

Donde el otoño abraza los árboles sacudiendo su tronco, mientras sus hojas danzando suavemente en el viento,  caen a tierra cubriéndose de colores. 

Donde viendo tras el cristal de mi ventana, acompañada de tu sonrisa desdibujando una mueca de tristeza mientras el adiós llega silente sin prisa.

 By Yatti Sadeli 

Yatti Sadeli 's poetry

💐NAZAR BIRD

Dusk

The city holds a thousand sorrows

When children run around in an open field

When the screams of hunger echoed into the sky

An episode. . . . .

How much longer, and when will it end?

Nobody knows

Even though the earth is gaping and full of wounds

And writhed full of anger

The vulture with its stalking eyes is alert

Looking down

His voice was loud

Smell the fishy, ​​carrion-smelling air

Can I dare to prey on them?

So some of the birds asked

But some others

Suddenly inviting his wild group

To party hard

The dark clouds exhaled a dark breath

A scream roared without a source

Without a body and walking without legs

And vultures don't feast on nocturnal prey

They have an unbearable conscience

skinning the pain of a body lying helplessly

Covered in blood and wounds.

The tears flowed

Flowing in the silence of the night

But . . . . . Why is there arrogant laughter?

And there is a saying

– Let the worst disappear into the earth

I'll continue with my plan

Until a thunderous shock occurred

All over the world

This is not a dream at the end of the night

Time continues to roll by

The irony of falling into a bottomless abyss

No self control

Whereas . . . .

This is the land of God's messengers

How long will this outrage last

Will continue

On this holy earth.💖

 Aziz Mountassir  

poèm translate to Espagnol and Indonesia

Amor mio 

En el infinito mar de mi existir,

tu amor es el faro que me guía,

en la penumbra de la noche oscura,

eres la luz que disipa mi agonía.

Como las estrellas en el firmamento,

tu belleza brilla con esplendor,

cada mirada tuya es un encanto,

que llena de alegría mi corazón.

En cada latido, en cada suspiro,

siento tu presencia, tu calor,

como un eco eterno en mi destino,

eres mi amor, mi único fervor.

En el jardín de nuestros sueños,

cultivamos flores de pasión,

cada beso es una promesa,

de un amor eterno, sin condición.

En el lienzo de nuestras vidas,

pintamos paisajes de felicidad,

cada momento a tu lado es un regalo,

que atesoro con fervor y verdad.

En el vaivén del tiempo inexorable,

nuestro amor perdurará sin fin,

como un río que fluye inagotable,

uniendo nuestros destinos hasta el confín.

En el ocaso de nuestras vidas,

miraremos atrás con gratitud,

por haber compartido este amor eterno,

que nos ha dado fuerza y plenitud.

Así, mi amada, en este poema,

te entrego mi corazón sin reservas,

porque en ti encontré mi razón de ser,

mi amor eterno, mi musa, mi estrella.

Indonesia

Cintaku

Di lautan keberadaanku yang tak terbatas,

cintamu adalah mercusuar yang membimbingku,

di kegelapan malam yang gelap,

Kamu adalah cahaya yang menghilangkan penderitaanku.

Bagaikan bintang di langit,

Kecantikanmu bersinar dengan kemegahan,

setiap penampilanmu adalah pesona,

Itu memenuhi hatiku dengan sukacita.

Di setiap detak jantung, di setiap tarikan napas,

Aku merasakan kehadiranmu, kehangatanmu,

seperti gema abadi dalam takdirku,

Kamu adalah cintaku, satu-satunya semangatku.

Di taman impian kita,

kami menanam bunga gairah,

setiap ciuman adalah sebuah janji,

cinta abadi, tanpa syarat.

Di kanvas kehidupan kita,

kita melukis pemandangan kebahagiaan,

setiap momen di sisimu adalah anugerah,

yang saya hargai dengan semangat dan kebenaran.

Dalam datang dan perginya waktu yang tak terhindarkan,

cinta kita akan bertahan tanpa akhir,

seperti sungai yang mengalir tanpa henti,

menyatukan takdir kita sampai akhir.

Di senja hidup kita,

Kami akan melihat ke belakang dengan rasa syukur,

karena telah berbagi cinta abadi ini,

yang telah memberi kami kekuatan dan kelimpahan.

Jadi, sayangku, dalam puisi ini,

Aku memberimu hatiku tanpa keberatan,

karena di dalam dirimu aku menemukan alasan keberadaanku,

cinta abadiku, inspirasiku, bintangku.

By Parvinder Nagi

India

ONLY IF LOVE COULD BE MEASURED

Ahh, only if love could be measured! 

He asked ,

“ How much do you love me ?”

I said, “ Only if you could count…

Mine innumerable heartbeats, 

Or keep an account of my breaths …”

Tell me, Is love not holding 

each other in the moment of grief ?

To be gratified when all is well!

Like Autumn breeze 

Caressing unendingly 

Through the trances,

Like the fragrance 

In the zephyr..!

The willows permeating scents 

Rivers flowing perpetually 

Clusters of galaxies 

Chords of the Universe 

Calmness of the night 

Depths of the sea

The greatest treasures ever..!

Love is not illusions 

Or fairy tales

It is an entity 

You reciprocate to ,

Forgive and be resilient .

Love keeps dwelling 

For there’s no yardstick 

Measuring MINE love…!

from ages past, present and forever.

Now tell me….

Can YOU measure 

Mine love for THEE ?

Copyright: Parvinder Nagi 

31st March 24

(Concetta La Placa)  From Italy

UN MONDO CON I COLORI DELLA PACE. 

Si odono sibili che lasciamo dietro 

strani silenzi. 

Ora, tacciono gli strazianti pianti dei piccoli innocenti,

diventati inutili agnelli sacrificali. 

Con loro si zittiscono anche le nenie, elevate al cielo, dalle loro disperati madri. 

Tutt’intorno è silenzio. 

È rimasto solo 

uno strano fumo. 

È la fuliggine della distruzione 

e della morte

che arriva da una guerra fraticidra. 

Eppure si sa 

che mai nessuna guerra 

ha avuto un senso, 

perché’ ha creato solo vinti e mai vincitori. 

È’ per questo che, in ginocchio, e con quest brevi versi , 

chiedo al mio Dio 

che si depongano le armi. 

Che il mondo si desti armato 

solo di rametti d’ulivo, 

invocando la pace. 

Chiedo che si diffonda l’amore

e il sentimento di fratellanza. 

Abbiamo tutti tanto bisogno 

che il mondo colori i propri confini 

con le tinte della pace. 

Concetta La Placa.@ t.d.r..

 

Rosamaria Alagna

Il vero amico 

Il vero amico è la stella alpina

la rosa rara del deserto 

la spalla che ti sostiene senza fretta 

lo sgrido, il sorriso e la carezza

al momento giusto.

Il vero amico è il cuore che batte 

seppur in forma diversa dell'amore 

ti regala ugualmente emozioni 

e non crede alle dicerie di certe 

persone.

Il vero amico è colui che non giudica 

accetta pregi e difetti senza fartelo 

pesare e non guarda solo un bel volto 

o un sorriso smagliante, ne una voce 

che intona le note.

Il vero amico è colui che gli manchi 

anche per un semplice saluto, 

chi ti ritiene un tesoro inestimabile e ti 

cerca dicendoti grazie di esistere. 

    @ Rosamaria Alagna

 

looking in time / yair ben haim

looking at the time that doesn't stop for a moment

unaware of the life embedded in its veins

it has no emotional charge, no sense of taste,

own opinion, or language, He is so monotonous, It's so horrifying

looking at the time hu is not unaware of the difficulty 

He is not weakened by sin committed unintentionally and is not afraid 

It has no idea what intense love is

Free Hate, Peace or war it is troubling

looking at the time that is not the hazard absorber 

does not move from track Movement and rhythm

He has no interest Total carefree,

Deaf, a mute, a blind I'm sorry on you precious time

Biography - Yair Ben-Haim

Yair Ben-Chaim, an Israeli writer, poet and artist, poetry editor and publisher of "Hadarim-Beit Publishing House", holds a diploma in advertising and business administration, a journalist and an entrepreneur of various projects among the artist community in Israel.

Has published four books of poetry so far. "Doreshirah" (2013) "Go crazy in the middle of the day" (2015) "Hamdati" (2018) and "Coal Mines." (2022)

For the past nine years he has been editing and publishing the magazine for poetry and prose, culture and art "The Corridor", which includes the publication of representative poetry by poets from Israel, personal interviews with poets, writers, artists and painters, reviews of new books, translations of world poetry and reviews of exhibitions and cultural events. The magazine is published in a printed edition twice a year.

In 2003, he established the literary content site 'Hadarim' www.hadarim4u.com, a site of poetry and prose, culture and art, which includes various sections, including the section: 'Talk to the Poetry' which is a video project of Israeli poets reading poetry throughout the city of Tel Aviv-Yafo. The section: 'Guest in the Rooms' conversations with poets and writers, the 'New on the Shelf' section where book reviews are published, 'World Poetry' translation of poems by poets from around the world into Hebrew, reviews of cultural events and book launches and exhibition openings

Poems by Iris Calif 

Iris Calif, Resident of the State of Israel, poet, writer, translator of poetry (to Hebrew), and dancer. Iris is also in charge of all foreign connection for the cultural and literature internet magazine "in direction of the wind",  editor and translator Universal Poetry at "Mokasini" Magazine Culture & Lifestyle Magazine, Editor and translator in the "World Poetry" of the literature website "Rooms".

​

member of the Composers' Association of Hebrew authors and publishers in Israel named “ ACUM. Iris is Award Winner of 2023: The International Best Poets & POETS: THE JOURNAL OF RENDITION OF INTERNATIONAL POETRY (ITRC)[Multilingual] [China]

The Board of Directors of World Union of Poetry Magazines

November 18, 2023.

Iris was awarded a diploma from "The Russian Professional Writers Union" and the international magazine "Arina NN", registered in the Ministry of Culture of Russia for her contribution to world culture "International Poetic Community" 2022. She is the head of the Israeli liaison department of the Hong Kong Literature and Arts Magazine

and a member of the Association of artists and writers of the World SAPS

Iris is also serve on the editorial board of the World Poetry Yearbook 2024 (English edition)

She holds an honorary doctorate from the International Forum for Creativity, Humanity and Coexistence, Kingdom of Morocco.

​

Iris is 49 years old: married and mother of three daughters.

Her three books were publisher:

In a fascinating (or magic) lane breathes (or blows) Lolita on On 2001

Wild moon on 2017, And The daughter of GOD on 2020.

She is currently working on her fourth book of scripture.

​

Her poems have been published on radio, television, magazines in Israel and abroad, literary websites in Israel and around the world Exhibited in Exhibited in prestigious exhibitions in Israel, the Internet and newspapers international, and have been translated by international poets into Spanish, Bengali, Chinese, Russian Albanian, Turkish, Nepali, Arabic Assamese and Italian

Her poetry reflects the inner journey of her soul, which looks through love, dreams life, and breathes holy worlds, in the hidden spirit, and is a symbol and expression of her victory over Anorexia, and her choice of choosing life and love with courage.

The voice of the Nile angels carrying the God of my body

Daughter of God- Iris Calif 

 

God

King of the Angels of the World 

Our Father in Heaven

           Brave Yaakov

       Lord of all deeds

  In the light of the Nile Angels   

        The night is before his eyes

God's bearing my body in front of the senior of the moon

And in the creation of my heart a spirit of love is written

Blessings of the daughter of God

Nude writing lyrical holy poets 

Touching A vertical stack of sacred hymns 

Kissing in front of heavenly things in paradise

       And in the "Bible" that speaks of the honegcomb offering

     The sun pours out lovers

        A living soul grows

      holy Silence kneels 

       An incarnation of an essential melody

The voice of my soul is buried in the dripstone of God

         And it shall be called The splendid rain of the heavens

       Of my poem And the Allowed in land

  And in the fields of everlasting blossom   

         I'm the iris

Daughter of love

        Human of Daughter

Daughter of life            

             Daughter of God