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Friday, September 12, 2025

 

ANALISI LETTERARIA DI DUE POESIE DELLA POETESSA FARZANEH DORRI

ANALISI LETTERARIA DI DUE POESIE DELLA POETESSA FARZANEH DORRI

A cura di Francesca Gallello Gabriel Italo Nel Gòmez

Oggi ho il piacere di leggere — e di entrare tra le righe e le pieghe — di due poesie splendide della poetessa iraniana-danese Farzaneh Dorri. I suoi versi mi hanno colpita per la loro delicatezza e profondità, per la capacità di parlare al cuore senza mai rinunciare al pensiero. C’è in lei una voce limpida, che attraversa il dolore e la speranza, la solitudine e la luce, con uno sguardo che è insieme intimo e universale.

Il suo stile mi piace molto perché riesce a fondere immagini naturali e riflessioni esistenziali con una semplicità disarmante. Le sue poesie non gridano, ma restano. Non impongono, ma accompagnano. E in un tempo come il nostro, dove spesso la parola è rumore, la sua scrittura è silenzio che cura.

Voglio quindi portare alla vostra attenzione due testi che, a mio avviso, meritano di essere letti con lentezza e ascoltati con il cuore: The House of the Future e Sound of Silence. Due poesie che, pur diverse nel tono, si parlano e si completano, offrendoci una visione poetica e umanissima del nostro presente.

 

Farzaneh Dorri è una poetessa e scrittrice iraniana residente in Danimarca. La sua opera attraversa confini culturali e linguistici, fondendo sensibilità persiana e visione europea. I suoi versi, spesso intrisi di spiritualità, natura e impegno sociale, parlano di pace, resilienza e connessione umana. Scrive in persiano, danese e inglese, ed è attiva in progetti interculturali e iniziative per la promozione della pace attraverso l’arte.

 

Poesia

La casa del futuro

di Farzaneh Dorri (Iran/Danimarca)

Oggi conterò i sorrisi luminosi che incontro lungo il cammino, poi li mescolerò con un po’ di speranza e li condividerò con te.

Oggi conterò le parole gentili che scaldano nel profondo la mia mente. Poi mi siederò alla tua tavola e lascerò entrare la gioia.

Oggi voglio rendere piccoli i problemi, dimenticare i dolori e le nostalgie, dimenticare che il giorno è buio e grigio e abbracciare il mondo intero.

La felicità comincia raccogliendo piccole gioie, quando il vento soffia e la pioggia sferza. Non restare seduto a lamentarti: siamo noi a guidare il nostro viaggio.

Tu sei la luce che è stata accesa, hai bisogno di calore e di luce. Se la luce che è stata accesa si spegne, ci saranno più persone costrette a gelare.

La colomba della pace vola da una casa all’altra. Portiamola nel mondo e costruiamo la casa del futuro, così che possa esserci pace sulla terra.

Volo fino al fondo del mare e alle stelle del cielo con il mio canto solitario. Costruirò un futuro di pace e felicità insieme a te.

Poesia

Il suono del silenzio

di Farzaneh Dorri (Iran/Danimarca)

Un grido nel crepuscolo l’aquila afferra la sua preda sento il suono.

Il vento abbatte gli alberi le onde smuovono i sassi della spiaggia la tempesta tocca terra.

La pace interiore di oggi riecheggia nella mente quando arriva la notte.

Leggi i miei pensieri quando cerchi il silenzio impara a conoscermi.

Leggi l’haiku del mio cuore per attenuare il rumore: è silenzio che viene da dentro.

 

Costruire la casa del futuro: la poesia come atto di resistenza umana

 

In un tempo segnato da incertezze globali, conflitti e solitudini interiori, la poesia può ancora essere un gesto rivoluzionario. Lo dimostra con forza e delicatezza Farzaneh Dorri, poetessa iraniana naturalizzata danese, nella sua lirica The House of the Future. Un testo che, pur nella sua semplicità, racchiude una visione filosofica, sociale e profondamente umana del nostro stare al mondo.

La poesia si apre con un gesto quotidiano: contare i sorrisi, raccogliere parole gentili, sedersi a tavola con la gioia. In un mondo che spesso ci spinge a correre, a reagire, a difenderci, Dorri ci invita a rallentare e a coltivare la gentilezza come forma di resistenza. “Happiness starts by collecting small joys,” scrive — la felicità nasce dalla somma delle piccole gioie. È una poetica dell’attenzione, che trasforma l’ordinario in fondamento etico.

Il cuore filosofico della poesia pulsa in questi versi: “You are the light that was lit, you need warmth and light. If the light that was lit goes out, there are more people who have to freeze.”

Qui Dorri ci ricorda che la nostra luce non è solo nostra. Se si spegne, altri ne soffriranno. È un pensiero che richiama l’etica della cura, la responsabilità reciproca, l’interconnessione tra individui. In un’epoca che esalta l’individualismo, questa visione è quasi sovversiva: la felicità non è un bene privato, ma un bene condiviso.

La colomba della pace, che vola “da una casa all’altra”, è l’immagine centrale del testo. Non basta desiderare la pace: bisogna costruirla, casa dopo casa, gesto dopo gesto. La “casa del futuro” non è un’utopia astratta, ma un progetto concreto, che parte da noi. È un invito a non cedere al cinismo, a non restare seduti a lamentarsi, ma a prendere in mano il proprio viaggio.

Un’altra poesia di Dorri, Sound of Silence, offre un contrappunto intimo e contemplativo. Se The House of the Future è un inno all’azione, Sound of Silence è un invito all’ascolto. “Read my heart’s haiku / to dampen the noise / it is silence from within.” Qui il silenzio non è assenza, ma presenza profonda. È la quiete che precede il gesto, la radice invisibile della parola.

La poesia di Dorri si inserisce in una tradizione che attraversa confini e lingue. In Italia, Eugenio Montale ha saputo raccontare l’inquietudine del vivere moderno, ma anche la ricerca di un varco, di una luce. In Iran, Sohrab Sepehri ha cantato la natura, la spiritualità e la pace come forme di consapevolezza. Come loro, Dorri ci offre una poesia che è insieme sguardo sul mondo e gesto etico, bellezza e responsabilità.

In un’epoca in cui la parola è spesso gridata, manipolata o svuotata, la poesia di Farzaneh Dorri ci restituisce il suo valore originario: dire l’essenziale, toccare il cuore, aprire possibilità. The House of the Future non è solo una poesia: è una visione, un progetto, una chiamata. A costruire, insieme, un mondo più umano.

 

 

LITERARY ANALYSIS OF TWO POEMS BY THE POET FARZANEH DORRI

Curated by Francesca Gallello Gabriel Italo Nel Gòmez

Today I have the pleasure of reading — and delving between the lines and folds — of two splendid poems by the Iranian-Danish poet Farzaneh Dorri. Her verses struck me for their delicacy and depth, for their ability to speak to the heart without ever abandoning thought. Hers is a clear voice that moves through pain and hope, solitude and light, with a gaze that is both intimate and universal.

I truly appreciate her style because it manages to blend natural imagery and existential reflection with disarming simplicity. Her poems do not shout, but they linger. They do not impose, but accompany. And in a time like ours, where words are often noise, her writing is a healing silence.

I would therefore like to draw your attention to two texts that, in my opinion, deserve to be read slowly and listened to with the heart: The House of the Future and Sound of Silence. Two poems that, though different in tone, speak to each other and complement one another, offering us a poetic and deeply human vision of our present.

Farzaneh Dorri is an Iranian poet and writer living in Denmark. Her work crosses cultural and linguistic boundaries, blending Persian sensitivity with a European outlook. Her verses, often imbued with spirituality, nature, and social engagement, speak of peace, resilience, and human connection. She writes in Persian, Danish, and English, and is active in intercultural projects and initiatives promoting peace through art.

Poem

The House of the Future by Farzaneh Dorri (Iran/Denmark)

Today I will count the bright smiles I meet along the way, then I’ll mix them with a little hope and share them with you. Today I will count the kind words that deeply warm my mind. Then I’ll sit at your table and let joy come in.

Today I want to make problems small, forget the pain and the longing, forget that the day is dark and gray and embrace the whole world.

Happiness begins by gathering small joys, when the wind blows and the rain lashes. Don’t sit and complain: we are the ones steering our journey.

You are the light that has been lit, you need warmth and brightness. If the light that was lit goes out, more people will be left to freeze.

The dove of peace flies from one house to another. Let’s carry it into the world and build the house of the future, so that there may be peace on Earth.

I fly to the depths of the sea and the stars in the sky with my solitary song. I will build a future of peace and happiness with you.

 Poem

The Sound of Silence by Farzaneh Dorri (Iran/Denmark)

A cry at twilight the eagle seizes its prey I hear the sound.

The wind knocks down trees the waves stir the stones on the shore the storm makes landfall.

Today’s inner peace echoes in the mind when night arrives.

Read my thoughts when you seek silence learn to know me.

Read the haiku of my heart to soften the noise: it is silence that comes from within.

 

 

Building the House of the Future: Poetry as an Act of Human Resistance

In a time marked by global uncertainty, conflict, and inner solitude, poetry can still be a revolutionary gesture. This is powerfully and delicately demonstrated by Farzaneh Dorri, the Iranian-born, Danish-naturalized poet, in her lyric The House of the Future. A poem that, despite its simplicity, holds a philosophical, social, and deeply human vision of our being in the world.

The poem opens with a daily gesture: counting smiles, gathering kind words, sitting at the table with joy. In a world that often pushes us to rush, to react, to defend ourselves, Dorri invites us to slow down and cultivate kindness as a form of resistance. “Happiness starts by collecting small joys,” she writes — happiness is born from the sum of small joys. It is a poetics of attention, one that transforms the ordinary into an ethical foundation.

The philosophical heart of the poem beats in these lines: “You are the light that was lit, you need warmth and light. If the light that was lit goes out, there are more people who have to freeze.”

Here, Dorri reminds us that our light is not ours alone. If it goes out, others will suffer. It’s a thought that echoes the ethics of care, mutual responsibility, and the interconnectedness of individuals. In an era that glorifies individualism, this vision is almost subversive: happiness is not a private good, but a shared one.

The dove of peace, flying “from one house to another,” is the central image of the text. It is not enough to wish for peace — we must build it, house by house, gesture by gesture. The “house of the future” is not an abstract utopia, but a concrete project that begins with us. It is an invitation not to give in to cynicism, not to remain seated in complaint, but to take charge of our own journey.

Another poem by Dorri, Sound of Silence, offers an intimate and contemplative counterpoint. If The House of the Future is a hymn to action, Sound of Silence is an invitation to listen. “Read my heart’s haiku / to dampen the noise / it is silence from within.” Here, silence is not absence, but deep presence. It is the stillness that precedes action, the invisible root of the word.

Dorri’s poetry belongs to a tradition that crosses borders and languages. In Italy, Eugenio Montale captured the restlessness of modern life, yet also the search for a breach, for light. In Iran, Sohrab Sepehri sang of nature, spirituality, and peace as forms of awareness. Like them, Dorri offers us poetry that is both a gaze upon the world and an ethical gesture — beauty intertwined with responsibility.

In an age where words are often shouted, manipulated, or emptied of meaning, Farzaneh Dorri’s poetry restores their original value: to speak the essential, to touch the heart, to open up possibilities. The House of the Future is not just a poem — it is a vision, a project, a call. To build, together, a more human world.

Wednesday, September 10, 2025

 Poem original by Aziz Mountassir English version by Neide Romani 

You Are the Universe of My Heart



You are the dawn that breaks my endless night,

A constellation burning with sacred light.

When I behold you, galaxies unfold,

And time itself turns tender, pure, and bold.


You are the river that quenches my soul,

The hidden fire that makes me whole.

Each breath you give is a sacred hymn,

A prayer that soars where angels swim.


You are not simply flesh nor face,

But starlight woven in mortal grace.

The cosmos bends to carve your name,

Upon my chest, an eternal flame.


O sovereign of my trembling heart,

Without your glow, the worlds would part.

No sun could rise, no moon could shine,

If I could not call your spirit mine.


Your smile—an ocean of silver skies,

Where every sorrow drowns and dies.

Your eyes—two orbs of holy fire,

Where all my dreams and hopes conspire.


No mortal soul has touched me so,

No earthly bloom could ever grow,

As bright, as rare, as you became,

The sacred pulse within my flame.


You are my dawn, my dusk, my breath,

My timeless vow, beyond all death.

No heavens above, no earth below,

Could birth a love as vast, as true, as I know.


So let the stars bear witness tonight,

That you are my being, my truth, my light.

No one before, no one shall be—

For you are eternity breathing in me.

Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Escritora: Romna


 SOY PALESTINO

فلسطينى أنا


hay lagrimas que recorren las praderas

كانت هناك دموعا تنهمر في المراعي

y a lo lejos veo mejillas rosadas

ومن بعيد كنت أرى خدودا جميلة متوهجة بالحياة 


con sus manos sueltas y suaves

رأيت أيادي طليقة وناعمة

caminando casi sin detenerse

تتحرك دون توقف

se acerca a mi

كانت مني تقترب 

y yo corro para abrazarlo con mi rostro lleno de alegría

وأنا كنت أركض نحوها لاحتضانها

بوجهي المليئ بالسعادة والفرحة




es un niño hermoso, es solo un niño

إنه طفل جميل إنه مجرد صغير


llega el momento de tocarlo

وحين حانت لحظة اللقاء


pero hay lagrimas que recorren la pradera

وجدت الدموع كانت  تروى المراعي

y mi corazón se paraliza junto a mi mirada


حينها توقف قلبي لجانب نظري

sus mejillas no son rosada están manchadas de rojo carmín


فقد رأيت خدوده ليست محمرة بل مخضبة بالدماء

y sus manos cuelgan por la debilidad de su cuerpo


ويديه معلقة جراء ضعف جسده

sin detenerse...porque quiere huir

دون توقف كان يريد الفرار


solo es un niño...que quiere vivir

إنه مجرد طفل يبحث عن الحياة


Sólo un ser humano que está ahí


إنه مجرد إنسان من هناك

su mente no logra entender

لم يكن بعد يستطيع فهم ما جرى


tampoco lo puede hacer

ولم يمكن أيضا يستطيع أن يفعل


Sólo sabe que sus mejillas fueron manchadas

كان يعلم فقط أن وجهه مخضب بالدماء

y su cuerpo debilitado.......

وجسمه لا يزال هزيلا


SOLO SOY UN NIÑO...........SOLO SOY PALESTINO

كان مجرد طفلا ... كان مجرد فلسطينيا

Escritora: Romna

الكاتبة رومنا موريريا


Saturday, August 30, 2025

 

DR. MG. KMA MBE ESTRELLA FERNÁNDEZ PHD.



Eil PERFUME


Ese aire contaminado por mi aroma,

Que se impregna entre tus sábanas.

El que se queda contigo

aún después que yo marchara.


Ese mezcla de maderas,

violetas y jazmines

Que se queda contigo

Aunque me vaya.


Es no dejarte del todo,

es prolongar mi huída,

hasta que regrese nuevamente

a perfumar tu almohada.


Ese perfume que en mi cuerpo

es la mezcla de mi piel y mi deseo,

es para dejarte mi recuerdo

hasta que te anuncie mi regreso


DRA. MG. KMA MBE ESTRELLA FERNÁNDEZ PHD. 


English 



THE PERFUME


That air polluted by my scent,

Which permeates your sheets.

Which stays with you

even after I'm gone.


That blend of woods,

violets, and jasmine

Which stays with you

Even when I'm gone.


It's not leaving you completely,

it's prolonging my escape,

until I return again

to perfume your pillow.


That perfume on my body

is the blend of my skin and my desire,

is to leave you my memory

until I announce my return.


DR. MG. KMA MBE ESTRELLA FERNÁNDEZ PHD.




                            ☆

Tuesday, August 12, 2025

 Poetry Yatti Sadeli



CRESCENT MOON


There's a scary sound

When the crescent moon darkens

The howling of dogs echoes

The sea eagle disappears into the dark vastness.


The wind whispers softly, as if harboring resentment

The stars refuse to appear, and the crescent moon is veiled by a layer of clouds

And the soul is trapped in shadows.


The night with a starless sky and your shadow that fills the space and time for me.

Your shadow appears with my nightly dreams.


I'm trapped in the shadows of the night that grip me tight

The atmosphere feels eerily silent

Your dark shadow hides, unreachable, far from my grasp

This is because you're with another love.


In the darkness of the night, my steps halt

My soul searches for your form in feeling

Searches for your voice in a meaning that's hard to understand.


Finally . . . . 

When the sky still greets me, even if just for a moment

I measure my steps, chasing your shadow

My longing intensifies because of your absence.


Yet I want to tell your shadow

About my longing for you

About the length of my devotion to you

About the whiteness of a wounded heart

Also about the sorrow I feel without you.


Again, the crescent moon darkens

Because a thin layer of clouds slowly veils it once more


*****

5 August 025

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas



 Dinámica: #HayAmoresAsi

Autor:Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas 

Fecha:4 de agosto 2025

Pais:Costa Rica 

Tema: de Amor en poesía Gaonesa

Título: Pentagrama de Perseo 


Arco y flecha de fuego son detalles 

coloridos con índigos azules.

¡Huelen a sándalo, piel, tulipanes, 

tus manos los azahares y tules!

Solo tu cuerpo despierta en mis calles 

donde voy de amor, al día profundo.

Contigo siento, jardines y gules.

veo tu dermis vistiendo mi mundo.

Amor sin tiempo, con nimbos y valles.

Temblores del alma con tus imanes...

Dios es amor, porque amar no es inmundo

y por amarte, gritan mis volcanes.


Me eleva tu hechizo como lujuria.

Tus manos de seda tocan mis pechos... 

callados van mis ojos abrazados   

Te instalas en los huesos en los lechos,

los llantos miran lejana penuria

te mueves adentro, tu voz  sin prisa 

hasta deleitar la luz, los helechos

donde haces crujir a venus con risa.

Entre mundos invisibles de furia, 

entre mis botones de oro rosados.

Saboreando por cada sonrisa

quedo en tus vergeles enamorados

Sunday, August 3, 2025

 إنعام الحمداني



سنين المجرات 

بقلمي ...


ألم يتناسل 

في غيوم الزمان 

يلقح اكثر من شعور 

يتزاوج معلنا شبق الطبيعة 

غريب بسرعة الخيال 

عابرا سنين المجرات 

في احدى دعوات لم الشمل 

ابتهج الامل اندست ضحكته بين انياب الغفلة 

فسرق صواعه من  القافلة 

بكى كثيرا ..لكن السنين العجاف 

لم تكن خبيثة معه بل اطعمته بعض الجرع الزائدة ليتمكن من العيش ..

ذات مرة عاد الحلم من حلمه المتكرر بخيبة فأستند بجدار آيل للسقوط 

فأغمى عليه مغشيا 

استرد وعيه في مستشفى الامراض العقلية ..

حدثني جدي حينما كنا نستمع الى قصصه المجنونة مع فتيات عصره فأردف قائلا .

كنت احبها لكن يد القدر داهمتني ليلا وسرقت كل مااملك ...


إنعام الحمداني

Saturday, August 2, 2025

 The Seventh Heaven

Written by: Abbas Al-Wais

Translated by: Ali Abdul Salam Qadir

One evening, it was past seven o'clock. Jalal sat cross-legged, taking a drag on a lit cigarette, cradling the spark in his palm. He watched the sun as it gently dipped toward the horizon. He closed his eyes. He saw Lamia. A heavy tear welled up in his eyes. He turned to his companions, absorbed in preparing food, and quickly hid his eyes.

He saw Lamia. Are you really underground now, being eaten by worms and having your eyes gouged out by lizards!

Are you really underground, while I breathe the dust!

O Lamia, is there an inch of Mandali that doesn't know us? Is there a willow that doesn't remember our hug!

Is there a river that hasn't smelled the fragrance of our bodies!

The silence of the trench, the majesty of the horizon, and death lurking for the soldiers at any moment reminded him of the most beautiful memory, when marriage brought them together for one night and the cannon separated them in the early morning of the second day. When she stood before him, he felt the stillness of the soul of things, with all their depth and purity.

-How many years have I longed for you, O most beautiful of Mandali's brides?

- I have caressed your mustache since you were a boy, my love.

Jalal withdrew from the heavy joke to the back.

-Lamia

Oh, Lamia's soul.

A drunkard has his sanctity.

- I know that.

Yesterday I swore to invite my friends to a feast like no other.

She grabbed the sleeves of his white Dishdasha and twisted them around his arm.

- And when will you invite me to a feast?

-When you turn off the lamp.

Where are you now, Mandali, Lamia, while enemy shells savagely chase the pigeons and sparrows?

- The silence is eerie, the earth is filled with tension, and the crows hover like death perched on our clear sky.

-Doesn't this roar worry you?

- It's war.

-Why war?

-This is God's will and destiny. There are things that are important and more important, like seeing thousands of children playing and old men and women in the sunrise telling thousands of tales of ancient heroism.

He saw the palm trees towering on the riverbanks, the fishermen in their boats, the farmers on the farms, their faces beaming with hope and confidence in the future. He saw all of that and felt a sense of unease. I asked him: "What will become of our small village if the war intensifies?"

Do you know that I ask myself if others in areas far from the borders feel the same anxiety as I do?

- How could they not feel the same as we do, when there are thousands of soldiers on the veils of hell in areas that have nothing to do with the borders?

She looked at his face for a long time:

Will you ever participate in the war?

Five minutes, Lamia, were the deciding factor.

A soldier next to him shook him. What's wrong, Jalal? Are you delirious? Are you afraid?

Wait a few minutes for me to tame the wild, jealous horse, and I'll be back to answer you.

I left you warm and returned to you cold as ice.

I left you as a single lantern and returned to find you as dozens of scattered lanterns. Should I kiss your torn body and cry? What vile shell scattered the fragments of your body on the blackberry, the tamarisk, and the tamarisk...

Weep, Jalal, for Lamia, for the whisper of love is silenced by the bombs. If only I had told you before you were scattered in space. Yes, I will share the sorrow in my head...

The soldier said anxiously, "Jalal, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Death is inevitable. Be brave, my partner."

He replied, sobs rising hotly in his head: "I am your partner... It's a beautiful memory that has come to comfort me." 

The soldier clenched his fists as the company's chief sergeant cracked the chains with his fierce voice, "Comrades, don't let them pass us." It was a fleeting moment, escaping from hell to fall onto the earthen barriers. Bullets rained down, and between the bullets and the body, whose courage had provoked all its might, lay a sacred space where all beings prayed for the resurrection of the soul. He collapsed like a mountain as warm bullets pierced his chest. It was a delicious death awakening in which he heard the voices of his fellow soldiers. Through the faint gleam of his eyes, he saw the fields flourishing, the rivers overflowing, and the sun shining like a bride, shaking off the dust, wiping away the clotted blood, and leading him far, far away to the seventh heaven.

Chahrazad Kayna



Título: Soy yo quien lo amó

(Versión cantada para el mismo ritmo y melodía)


Estribillo:

Soy yo quien lo amó,

mi alma le entregó,

él fue mi gran pasión,

¡juro no decirle adiós!

Yalalay yalalí… sólo Dios sabe de mí...



---


1)

Tus ojos me atraparon,

con dulces pecados tuyos...

Caí en tu dulce amor,

¿fue mi suerte o mi futuro?

Yalalay yalalí… sólo Dios sabe de mí...



---


2)

Ven, pasa y vuelve a mí,

quiero mirarte sin fin.

Soñé mi frente en la tuya,

noche y luna sin salir...

Yalalay yalalí… sólo Dios sabe de mí...



---


3)

Tus ojos y tu sonrisa,

¡qué dulce luz divina!

Dame tu mano amor,

seré tuya cada día...

Yalalay yalalí… sólo Dios sabe de mí...



---


4)

Ay, ven y vuela conmigo,

vivamos libre el destino...

Como pajarillos juntos,

el amor será el camino...



---


5)

Chismes, envidia y mentiras,

que digan lo que decidan...

Nunca te dejaré amor,

aunque el mundo nos lo impida...

Yalalay yalalí… sólo Dios sabe de mí...

Monday, July 28, 2025

 

         The Voice of the Daughter of God Iris Calif"


                          Photo:Yehoram Galili



"The Voice of the Daughter of God Iris Calif" 

About the poetry, the poems and the book "Daughter of God" of the international poet Iris Calif

"The Dance of Light and the Dance of Holiness"

A fascinating article by Yehudit Malik Shiran

Article translated from Hebrew to English by Yarden Zehavi

Literary quotes (from the poems) translated into English by Iris Calif

All the rights of the poems and the Literary quotes from the poems reserved to the poet Iris Calif ©️


"The Dance of Light and the Dance of Holiness"

"Daughter of God", Iris Calif, "Rooms" ("Hadarim") publishing house (2020). 

The book opens with five poems that are a direct address to God and there are four chapters in the book: the first chapter: "I am a Woman in the Kingdom of Your Creations", the second chapter "Daughter of Life", the third chapter "God's Flower in My Garden" and the fourth chapter "And with the Voice of the Dance; soul". 

And who are you, daughter of God? "In signs and wonders you crowned me/ And in ancient worlds in the bible the kingdom of life surrounded me/ The treaty of the Iris of God/ Daughter of Zion/ Daughter of the prophets/ Daughter of the desert/ Daughter of the rain/ Daughter of the field/ Daughter of wheat/ Daughter of the sun/ Daughter of the night/ And in the priestly breastplate of dust of the moon's trumpets/ God will hear my voice" (p. 7). "The night crowns his eyes" (p. 11).

And I want to bring the voice of the daughter of God to here. A voice of creation, a voice of many waters, a voice of prophetic poetry. The variety of voices brought here in the unique language of the holy language and the Kabbalah indicate that she was the one chosen to deliver holy messages. She is in our world on a divine calling from above. And in her poems there is a language that is rare in its beauty, exceptional and bright, staggering and hidden.


The divine calling of prophecy or the vision of the messages

"In God's garment to my body I predict my body to the silence of the divine wind, and the summer candle is lit by a holy life, reigns in the crown of winter writings of my breath/The evening creates my passion that gives birth to existence" (p. 19). The garment of prophecy changes the image and appearance. The prophetic writings Iris foretells will be brought by the winter with the sounds of water in the form of rain and the tears of the body and soul. The evening is compared to the night that creates a desire for life, a desire for a sense of vocation, a desire for existence. And how do we know that she accepted the divine calling upon herself? Unlike the prophets Jeremiah, Isaiah and Ezekiel, who passed tests to get their position, and Jonah who was chosen to be a prophet yet refused, she did not pass a mental test, but a series of physical tests I would call life lessons, as she accepts the divine calling with these words: "I am the iris, the ballerina of your life dancing in the land of love/ As the vine, the stems of my soul are formed" (p. 22). "I am the holy Iris in the prophetic rain my fears flow... tiny is my tear that drops" (p. 29). Only holy individuals, who are humble and modest, are chosen to be the spokesmen of God's voice. She comes to him without any coverings, naked as on the day of her birth, and God puts the garment of prophecy on her body. In this motif, she is ready for duty. I come as I am, "I am naked drumming forever in the spirit of your shadows/ Engraving love in the nature of my mercy" (p. 31). And in another poem "In front of your eyes I wander naked" (p. 34). "Like a naked Calidris (bird) asking for the angels that blow the righteousness of your silence" (p. 33). "To a naked moon predicting my love's desire" (p. 35). "I am the iris Eve; in the human being's rib dripping my naked love" (p. 36). The nudity motif has something holy about the prophetic role assigned to her and about being a man's wife, a beloved wife, a mother of three daughters. The language of prophecy is also divided into two: on the mystical level she accepted the role, on the realistic level she fulfilled her motherhood and crowned her man into the trumpeter of the desert (bird), "He is the one who races my heart that fertilizes irises of worlds of heaven as a woman in your shadows, as a human being in my 

blood" (p. 39



The voice of creation

At the center of the Song of Songs there is a description of the development of the love between two lovers. This is how we meet the image of the beloved woman "Like a wounded gazelle picking up stamens" and he (the man) is "Like a lion of the rivers weaving in me… making love in my loneliness and the night carves the silence of your life in my eyes" She is a gazelle and he is a lion. She is gentle and fragile and he is the king of the animals, his power is greater than hers. "In my everlasting life in which I walk through as a battling lion that pierces borrowed blaze that covers my breath in drops of love" (p. 46). In the Song of Songs, the two lovers are presented as a deer and a gazelle, which are light-footed wild animals. In these species, the love life occurs only in one season of the year. The poet is a wounded gazelle and her lover is a lion. The story of their love, in contrast to the gazelles and deer from the Song of Songs, lasts a lifetime. In parallel to the rhythm of life in nature – dormancy, germination, blooming, budding and ripening – in the plant world: "And the wind embedded in the sound of the earth... crowned our love in golden groves" (p. 48) "Shepherd of radiant earth...the beauty of nature is the woman of light" (p. 75), and in the animal world - growth, puberty, pregnancy and birth. The sound of life created in it is a combination of living water "The flower of the world in my garden/ God's fruit in my womb like a spirit of love caressing my daughter, the creation of my life" (p. 71) "My daughter you are my creation like a gift in drops of divine life... and God heard my voice and sent the shine of your star" (p. 72). And in another poem "And with the gates of heaven the time breathes your world...how beautiful you are, my daughter" (p. 73)


The sound of many waters

The poet took the divine calling upon herself, the vision of her mission in the world. She creates life and conveys messages of life. The messages of life are the divine calling. In the Zohar book, which conveys the divine calling, it is conveyed by the sounds of water. Sometimes the sounds are as thin as brook streams, sometimes they flow like the rivers and sometimes they are as loud as thunder in the sky and their voices echo like a vast ocean. The act of transition and the use of water are called, according to the books of Kabbalah, Chariot mysticism (Merkabah mysticism). And the waters rise and fall and the power of their wind bursts from "The sound of the mountains in breaths of a pure beat" (p. 82). And in another poem the water is used as a purification of the body and soul "My few tears to the purity of the stream of mercy of your image" (p. 83). "In the image of the water the ropes of death chant their spirits/ With tears of soil they wander to God" (p. 84). And the water is used for the purification of the deceased, who are separated from our world and their spirit ascends to the world above and their body remains in the ground. Life and death maintain a cycle known from days long ago. "And the imperial rain rains freedom on the land of my poetry" (p. 11). The sound of water is compared to the rain that showers the earth with the sound of many waters because this is the greatness of God and this is how he redeems human life. Even the poet's poetry about the prophetic calling becomes personal poetry, pure on one hand and holy on the other, since the gates of heaven cover the aura of her faith.

The voice of prophetic poetry

Where will poetry be found? Where will the word of prophecy come from? Both questions deal with "how" the word of prophecy will be spoken and whether the one who speaks it is worthy of being a messenger of God. Hayim Nahman Bialik once mentioned a cricket in one of his poems. The poet in this book, "Daughter of God," voices her words, in contrast to Bialik's cricket, in the dance of the soul- a dance that includes a scale of sounds. "And in the voice/ The dance of the soul/ I am the one who dances love- and the fragile moon/ Flashes his golden soul/ In a human dance" I (p. 93). All the poems in this book have a background setting: the darkness of night, a fragile moon, and the sound of voices from upper and lower waters, all of which create before the readers' eyes a creation along with sounds and holy awe. The poet dances to the light of "The moon kneaded with dreams" (p. 97). And how beautiful is God's prayer medley, even when the spirit is lonely, empty and bleak. Then comes an energy of light that floods her in the night's dream like a prophecy dancing in her soul "In the kneeling of my rivers to the string of God my eyes pace" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 98). "And the chord of the earth roots the branches of my years/ To the time that creates poetry in my body along the melody of summer" (p. 99). Time creates poetry/prophecies. The body receives wings and the poet in the poem is not only a prophet of messages, but also a shining angel. She comes to guide those walking on a crooked and twisted path and show them their way. "The Creator of the holiness carries life/ As a bird of expanses… soaring to the horizon that plants freedom in the soil of life" (p. 101). The spirit of prophecy rests upon her and she "Embraces the scroll of my Torah in my body as an everlasting treaty" (p. 103), because she was chosen from the silence, "Savior of existence/ Priest in my heart/ The writings of your face / Miracles... The Holy One in the desert will call me/ The voice of actions/ Lord of the world/ King of kings" (p. 105). She was chosen to instruct the heart and soul, to show the way "And here I am" (p. 110). "I am a Hebrew...in the world of the heart of the field God will protect me/ And in the in the grace of the beat of worlds of heaven/ from wheat and barley/ To the land of the living my God will carry me" (p. 113). And a few words about the design of the book and the language of the poetry. On the front cover there is the figure of the poet against a picture of the moon, which appears as a symbol throughout the whole book. The moon that illuminates the world at night bears witness to the role that the daughter of God received- to direct her gaze and lead the way out of the love of faith and the love of her divine calling. The use of words from the Aramaic language, that finds a way into her poems, indicates that Iris Calif is a descendant of Kabbalists and was blessed with the prophecies of the spirit of the heart and with abilities of channeling and spiritual vision "And in the sight of the worlds/ God will cover me/ Sun/ Earth/ Moon/ Stars/ Clouds/ Heavens/ waterfalls streams rivers/ Rain/ Mountains/ Seasons/ Soul/ Eve/ Man/ Daughter of man/ Daughter of God/ Daughter of life" (p. 109). The coverage is the garment of prophecy, that is both local and universal, something external. And the garment, when it wraps the body, also allows the soul to be wrapped in it as well. And what is the holy covering without the body and soul together? And the book left me with a meditation of sounds, a contemplation of my path as a daughter of man, a daughter of God, whose spirit of God hovers around me, over me and below me, pouring love into me between the sacred and the mundane through the secrets of the Torah, the secrets of creation and the secrets of the poetry of this Book 


About the author of the article Yehudit Malik-Shiran--ISRAEL

A creative artist writes and composes my songs.

 Owns an "efi-log" radio in Israel. An educator and a therapist with a combination of arts. A poet and writer for children and adults

Owner of "Bat Or" book publishing house. She won awards for her books and her works were published in magazines in Israel and abroad. Editor of the magazine "On the Way" which gives a platform to poets, writers and painters. High school teacher and journalist, literary and music critic



About the poet Iris Calif -ISRAEL

Iris was born and lives in Israel she is an international writer, poet, dancer, editor and translator of poetry to Hebrew. She is in charge of foreign relations in the online culture, literature, art and poetry magazine "The Direction of the Holy Spirit Wind" ("Bekiovn Hroh") a translator and an editor of world-wide poetry in the magazine and editor of international anthologies at the magazine, as well as in the culture and lifestyle magazine "Mokasini" and in the "World Poetry" section on the literature website "Rooms" ("Hadarim"). She is also a member of the Composers' Association of Hebrew authors and publishers in Israel named "ACUM".

Iris is received of the International Prize for Literature Italy - Milan 2024: 'CITY OF GALATEO' Special award for excellence 'città del Galateo' in the category of foreign writers from around the world, poetry and fiction on a free topic, for the poem she wrote "Angel of Life".

Iris received the 2023 award for International Best Poets & POETS:

THE JOURNAL OF RENDITION OF INTERNATIONAL POETRY- IPTRC [Multilingual] CHINA and she was selected- to be one of the "20 Top International Journalists for the year 2024 of Legacy Crown’s" -ASIA. She also holds 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 the culture world "International Poetic Community" 2022.

Iris 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. She takes part in the editorial board of the World Poetry Yearbook 2024 (English edition) and holds an honorary doctorate from the International Forum for Creativity, Humanity and Coexistence, Kingdom of Morocco.

Iris is a descendant of a lineage of Kabbalists, blessed with the prophecy of the spirit of the heart and the ability of communication and vision, which are expressed in her mystical and Kabbalistic writing, endowed with spiritual touches of holy upper and hidden worlds. For her, it is a blessing to shine with the spirit of the Jewish voice from the depths of love, life, and faith in the creator of the world- our father in heaven

"And as I soar with the flight of my spirit soul, I will carry the holy halo of the light of my Jewish loving voice, in the eternally world of the wings of the Dove of God spirit of the land-living peace"-Iris Calif


Three of Iris's books have already been published: "In a Mysterious magical path Lolita breathes" (2001), "A Pure Wild moon" (2017), and "The daughter of God" (2020), and she is currently working on her fourth book. Her poems have been published and read on the radio, on television, on the internet, in national and international magazines and newspapers and in anthologies around the world, and were translated by international poets into numerous languages such as Spanish, Bengali, Nepali, Arabic, Chinese, Turkish, Assamese, Russian, Albanian and Italian.

Iris's poems were presented in many prestigious and international exhibitions in Israel such as "Crowns of Winter" (January 2023), where a poem of hers translated into Bengali was displayed alongside poems by seven international poets, each translated and edited into Hebrew by her. Also, the exhibition "Black-Red-White" displayed Iris's translated versions of poems written by five international poets. Most recently, Iris's poems, also translated into Chinese, Italian, Spanish and Arabic, were presented in the universal exhibition "Butterflies of Peace", which also included the poems of 21 poets from around the world, translated by Iris into Hebrew.

Iris's poetry reflects the inner journey of her soul, which looks through love, dreams of life and breathes holy and hidden worlds. Her poetry is a symbol and an expression of her victory over anorexia and her courageous decision to choose life and love.

"And in my living Iris soul; Golden Irises of the Blue heaven Sky

And My Spirit; Dances the Living Voice of the Holy God Life" -Iris Calif©️



Poems by the International poet Iris Calif – ISRAEL


THE HUMAN DIVINE FLOWER; THE IRIS

 

God


In the Living halo of heaven’s candlesticks is my blue gold burning candle flame

As Iris a human flower I am inflaming my heaven dance to the human moon

And in pure wilderness of desert wild ashes,


A Life; 


And the days gather the spirit soul of the angel of my life

Creates my human Iris flower heart 

To the holy land of the heaven wind

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©




Daughter of the God - 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  

He carries the God of my body in front of the virtue of the hidden royal of the firstborn Moon 

And in the creation of my heart 

A fate of love's spirit is inscribed

Blessed Daughter of God

I am the naked ballerina, dancing the spirit words of the poetry of 

 the sacred lyrical poems  

Touching of the sacred land hymns 

Kissing heavenly things in paradise

 And in the Bible of life’s desert an offering of forests

The golden sun sheds love

A soul of living life grows

Silence kneels before the Divine spirit

 A halo of an essential melody

 And the whisper sound of my breath embraces the mountain of the sacred Stone of God

And the glorious rain shall call and release the land of my heaven's poetry

And in the fields of the everlasting blossom of world

Daughter of love

Daughter of Human

Daughter of Eve 

Daughter of Isaac 

Daughter of Maria  

Daughter of the sun

Daughter of the moon

Daughter of the stars

Daughter of the land

 Daughter of the worlds

Daughter of living

Daughter of God 

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©



THE DESERT BRIDE-IRIS CALIF     


In the calm prayer of your rains, simulates virtue of love


In God's garment to my body, I predict my body

To the silence of the divine wind

The darkness carrying love

Desire raising my dream 


And the summer candle is lit by a holy life

Reigns in the crown of winter writings of my soul

The evening creates my passion that gives birth to existence

The night is heavily breathing the sand in the pasture of the world

And in the knowledge of heaven

I am the bride of the desert

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©


GOD'S MOON- IRIS CALIF -ISRAEL

Tonight; the voice of God's moon rises and the Nile angels are carrying the holy Dawn of my body


In the river the boundaries of the holy anomaly

To the hidden Spirit

For a winter fast, the universe of my steps will be stride

"Lord of armies" " King of honor" 

The God of the Worlds, The Creator of the Living

My blowing voice is distinguished by the twilight of Your holy Torah 

Waking up in the soul of the land

Savior of existence in the exhalation of the righteous

The night exceeds love affairs in the delight of darkness

To my naked body at the Silence the Stars

Crossing a mountain of heaven

And in the fields of the golden wind of the mysterious angels.

My breathe is alien

On God's Moon

Kneeling my dream

Spreading like a seed of the juniper

 In the sands of anomaly  

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©


HUMAN DANCE - IRIS CALIF - ISRAEL 

In the night river,

The cypress of your eyes

Binds my soul and the naked spirit

Catches up my innocent world,

And a loud dance of the soul mind.

I’m dancing love by yours,

Distilling my body to your needs.

The winds of your stars

Pierce

Drowning senses to the halo of the collected sun silently

And in the crown of heaven my passion is crumbled

Wrapped in the solitude of your heart,

And the moon is fragile;

 flash his golden soul

In a human dance 

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©



A WOMAN AS BROOK OF DESERT -IRIS CALIF 


With the letter love, biding the violin of eternity

Embroidering melodies to my nude body;

The words of heaven

Miracles occurs;

Sun sets the world apart

I roar silently, naked,

Carving souls of existence,

Saints hover cratt in rain gloves

Reviving the cradle of waters

Crossing my dress,

My heart, in the warmed-up sand,

The night enchants consolation,

Silence of human delusions

The creation wind is racing in her bound beauty,

To the mountain coast

I am breached now; woman

 As brook of desert.

 "All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©




“קולה של בת האלוהים -ריקוד האור וריקוד הקדושה”

אודות כתיבתה ,שיריה והספר “בת אלוהים” של המשוררת איריס כליף

מאת: יהודית מליק-שירן

  תרגום מעברית לאנגלית :ירדן זהבי

תרגום הציטוטים הספרותיים מעברית לאנגלית מעברית בשיריה של איריס: 

תרגום שיריה של איר

יס מעברית לאנגלית :איריס כליף 

כל הזכויות של הציטוטים הספרותיים והשירים באנגלית שמורות למשוררת איריס כליף    

הספר “בת אלוהים” ראה אור בהוצאת חדרים – 2020 –



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Friday, July 25, 2025

 من أندلسِ تطوان إلى نبضِ بغداد: شهرزاد الركينة… نشيدُ الفنّ العابر للضفاف


حامد الضبياني

في زقاقٍ ضيّق من أزقة تطوان، كانت الحمامة البيضاء ترفرف بأجنحة من موسيقى وشذى ياسمين، تمدّ خيوط الضوء من نافذة أندلسيّة إلى قلبِ القصبة القديمة، وتحوّل كلّ خطوة إلى نغمة، وكلّ صمت إلى لحنٍ يتجوّل بين حجرٍ وحنين. هناك، حيث البحر الأبيض المتوسّط يتوسّد جبال الريف، وتخفت ضوضاء العالم أمام نقر العود على ركبتي طفلةٍ وُلدت لتغنّي، وتُغنّى.

تطوان… يا ابنة التاريخ المطرّز بماء الزهر، يا قصيدة مستعارة من زمن طليطلة، ويا جارية أندلسيّة خرجت من بيت الشعر وراحت ترقص في الأعراس الشعبيّة بين النوافير والبوّابات الملوّنة. تطوان، تلك التي كانت تمودة في البدء، وارتدت الحصن الروماني مثل تاج على مفرق الجبل، ونامت بين جبل درسة وسلاسل الريف كما تنام الأمّهات على ترانيم الزمن. في تلك المدينة التي تُنسج من الريح والماء والحكايات، وُلدت شهرزاد الركينة، ابنة العود والأمسيات الدافئة، ابنة الفنّ حين يتشكّل في رحم مدينة، وحين يخرج من البيت بصوت امرأةٍ صادحة تحاور الوتر والكلمة.شهرزاد، وليس من الغرابة أن يكون اسمها كذلك، فهي لا تروي حكاية ألف ليلة وليلة فحسب، بل تعزفها، وتغنيها، وتضع ألحانها لتبقى معلّقة في ليلٍ طويل لا ينتهي. من والدتها "أعشوشة زروالة" أخذت المفاتيح الأولى، مفاتيح العود الذي لا يُعزَف فقط، بل يُربّى كما يُربّى النخل في الصحراء، فكبرت الطفلة وفي يديها وتر، وفي صوتها مقام تطوانيّ لا يشبه سواه. عزفت على ركبتيها كما يعزف الحالم على صدرِ الحنين، وتعلّمت الكمان على يد عبد الواحد النتيفي، حتى صار الكمان جزءًا من حنجرتها لا من أوتارها فحسب.ولم تكن بداياتها إلا تمرينًا على المجد. يوم غنّى عبد الصادق شقارة "بنت بلادي" كانت شهرزاد هناك، تلازمه لا كمرافقة بل كروح موازية، تتشرّب من مدرسته، وتأخذ عنه نُبلَ الغناء الأندلسيّ. وما أجمل تلك اللحظات التي غنّى فيها التطوانيون والإسبان في مهرجانات البحر الأبيض، حيث كانت العازفة والمطربة تقف بشموخٍ بين الثقافتين، مزهوّةً بإرثها العربيّ وممتنةً لنوافذ إسبانيا التي فتحت لها أبواب العزف والكلمة والحضور.شهرزاد لم تكن صوتًا عابرًا في حفلة، بل كانت وما زالت حالة فنيّة شاملة. انخرطت في التمثيل، فشاركت في أفلام إسبانية ومغربية، واقتُبِل صوتها كموسيقى تصويريّة في أعمالٍ سينمائية وصلت إلى مهرجانات القاهرة، بل إن موسيقاها التصويريّة للفيلم الإسباني "سوسانا" وُصفت بأنها لحن ذاكرة… شهادةٌ كتبها عنها خبير الموسيقى الإسباني نبريطي، الذي رأى فيها ملحنةً لا تُقلّد، بل تؤسّس.هي التي لحّنت وغنّت ومثّلت، ونسجت في أعمالها حكاياتٍ موسيقية كما تنسج العنكبوت بيتها في الصباحات الهادئة. عملت إلى جانب المغني الشهير "أنطونيو أوروسكو"، وغنّت في إعلانات سيارات، وجالت بين إيطاليا، والبرتغال، وفرنسا، وإسبانيا، وبقي صوتها يختزن عبق "سويقة" في تطوان، وهمس "باب العقلة"، وعبور "واد مرتيل" إلى حيث تبدأ القصيدة ولا تنتهي.ولأنها ابنة الشعر، لم تكتفِ بالغناء والعزف، بل كتبت، وزجّلت، وحوّلت المائدة إلى فنٍّ آخر من أطياف الإبداع. حتى المطبخ عندها صار لونًا من ألوان الفنّ، إذ كانت تحبّ الطبخ والحلويات، تمزج النكهات كما تمزج المقامات، وتنثر البهارات كما تنثر القوافي. كانت، وهي تكتب أو تطهو، تمثّلُ في السرّ مشهدًا من المسرح المدرسيّ الذي أحبّته يوم كانت تلميذة في "المعهد الحرّ" بتطوان، تُحيّي فيه أساتذتها وأيامها الأولى كأنها تُحيي مدينةً كاملة في قلبها.

وحين تغنّي شهرزاد اليوم من تطوان لبغداد، فإنها لا تقف على حدود الجغرافيا، بل تعبرُ الأزمنة، وتختصر في صوتها أوجاع أمّة وأحلامها. صوتها نداء من جبل درسة إلى دجلة، من وادي مرتيل إلى شط العرب، من ضفائر النساء في القصبة إلى نظرات العيون العراقية التي تُدمن الغناء.شهرزاد الركينة ليست فنانةً من تطوان فقط، بل سفيرة أرواحٍ أندلسية هجّرتها الرياح وأعادها العود، امرأة تسكن في تقاطع الموسيقى والشعر، وتُطل من شرفات الفنّ على العالَم بنظرة واثقة وحسّ إنسانيّ نبيل. في كلّ عزف لها، تطوان تحكي، وفي كلّ غناء، الريف يتنفس، وفي كلّ سفر، تفتح حدودًا بين الشرق والغرب، بين العرب والإسبان، بين الحنين والانتماء.

من كانت أمّها تعزف على العود، لا بد أن تكبر وهي تعزف على أوتار الوجدان البشريّ. ومن بدأت في المعهد الحرّ، لا يمكنها أن تكون إلا حرّةً في الفنّ، حرّة في التعبير، حرّة في الأمل.

وها هي اليوم، لا تزال تروي حكايات الليل، وتُطيل عمر الأغنية، وتفتح للحن مكانًا على طاولة الشعوب. اسمها شهرزاد، ومقامها الركينة، لكنّ أثرها… هزيمُ وترٍ لا يهدأ.

Thursday, July 24, 2025

 


"The Voice of the Daughter of God Iris Calif"



Photo:Yehoram Galili 


"The Voice of the Daughter of God Iris Calif"

About the poetry, the poems and the book "Daughter of God" of the international poet Iris Calif

"The Dance of Light and the Dance of Holiness"

A fascinating article by Yehudit Malik Shiran

Article translated from Hebrew to English by Yarden Zehavi

Literary quotes (from the poems) translated into English by Iris Calif

All the rights of the poems and the Literary quotes from the poems reserved to the poet Iris Calif ©️



"The Dance of Light and the Dance of Holiness"

"Daughter of God", Iris Calif, "Rooms" ("Hadarim") publishing house (2020). 

The book opens with five poems that are a direct address to God and there are four chapters in the book: the first chapter: "I am a Woman in the Kingdom of Your Creations", the second chapter "Daughter of Life", the third chapter "God's Flower in My Garden" and the fourth chapter "And with the Voice of the Dance; soul"- Iris Calif"©️. 

And who are you, daughter of God? "In signs and wonders you crowned me/ And in ancient worlds in the bible the kingdom of life surrounded me/ The treaty of the Iris of God/ Daughter of Zion/ Daughter of the prophets/ Daughter of the desert/ Daughter of the rain/ Daughter of the field/ Daughter of wheat/ Daughter of the sun/ Daughter of the night/ And in the priestly breastplate of dust of the moon's trumpets/ God will hear my voice" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 7). "The night crowns his eyes" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 11).

And I want to bring the voice of the daughter of God to here. A voice of creation, a voice of many waters, a voice of prophetic poetry. The variety of voices brought here in the unique language of the holy language and the Kabbalah indicate that she was the one chosen to deliver holy messages. She is in our world on a divine calling from above. And in her poems there is a language that is rare in its beauty, exceptional and bright, staggering and hidden.


The divine calling of prophecy or the vision of the messages

"In God's garment to my body I predict my body to the silence of the divine wind, and the summer candle is lit by a holy life, reigns in the crown of winter writings of my breath/The evening creates my passion that gives birth to existence" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 19). The garment of prophecy changes the image and appearance. The prophetic writings Iris foretells will be brought by the winter with the sounds of water in the form of rain and the tears of the body and soul. The evening is compared to the night that creates a desire for life, a desire for a sense of vocation, a desire for existence. And how do we know that she accepted the divine calling upon herself? Unlike the prophets Jeremiah, Isaiah and Ezekiel, who passed tests to get their position, and Jonah who was chosen to be a prophet yet refused, she did not pass a mental test, but a series of physical tests I would call life lessons, as she accepts the divine calling with these words: "I am the iris, the ballerina of your life dancing in the land of love/ As the vine, the stems of my soul are formed" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 22). "I am the holy Iris in the prophetic rain my fears flow... tiny is my tear that drops" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 29). Only holy individuals, who are humble and modest, are chosen to be the spokesmen of God's voice. She comes to him without any coverings, naked as on the day of her birth, and God puts the garment of prophecy on her body. In this motif, she is ready for duty. I come as I am, "I am naked drumming forever in the spirit of your shadows/ Engraving love in the nature of my mercy" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 31). And in another poem "In front of your eyes I wander naked" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 34). "Like a naked Calidris (bird) asking for the angels that blow the righteousness of your silence" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 33). "To a naked moon predicting my love's desire" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 35). "I am the iris Eve; in the human being's rib dripping my naked love" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 36). The nudity motif has something holy about the prophetic role assigned to her and about being a man's wife, a beloved wife, a mother of three daughters. The language of prophecy is also divided into two: on the mystical level she accepted the role, on the realistic level she fulfilled her motherhood and crowned her man into the trumpeter of the desert (bird), "He is the one who races my heart that fertilizes irises of worlds of heaven as a woman in your shadows, as a human being in my blood" - Ir

is Calif"©️ (p. 39






The voice of creation

At the center of the Song of Songs there is a description of the development of the love between two lovers. This is how we meet the image of the beloved woman "Like a wounded gazelle picking up stamens" - Iris Calif"©️ and he (the man) is "Like a lion of the rivers weaving in me… making love in my loneliness and the night carves the silence of your life in my eyes" - Iris Calif"©️. She is a gazelle and he is a lion. She is gentle and fragile and he is the king of the animals, his power is greater than hers. "In my everlasting life in which I walk through as a battling lion that pierces borrowed blaze that covers my breath in drops of love" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 46). In the Song of Songs, the two lovers are presented as a deer and a gazelle, which are light-footed wild animals. In these species, the love life occurs only in one season of the year. The poet is a wounded gazelle and her lover is a lion. The story of their love, in contrast to the gazelles and deer from the Song of Songs, lasts a lifetime. In parallel to the rhythm of life in nature – dormancy, germination, blooming, budding and ripening – in the plant world: "And the wind embedded in the sound of the earth... crowned our love in golden groves" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 48) "Shepherd of radiant earth...the beauty of nature is the woman of light" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 75), and in the animal world - growth, puberty, pregnancy and birth. The sound of life created in it is a combination of living water "The flower of the world in my garden/ God's fruit in my womb like a spirit of love caressing my daughter, the creation of my life" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 71) "My daughter you are my creation like a gift in drops of divine life... and God heard my voice and sent the shine of your star" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 72). And in another poem "And with the gates of heaven the time breathes your world...how beautiful you are, my daughter" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 73).


The sound of many waters

The poet took the divine calling upon herself, the vision of her mission in the world. She creates life and conveys messages of life. The messages of life are the divine calling. In the Zohar book, which conveys the divine calling, it is conveyed by the sounds of water. Sometimes the sounds are as thin as brook streams, sometimes they flow like the rivers and sometimes they are as loud as thunder in the sky and their voices echo like a vast ocean. The act of transition and the use of water are called, according to the books of Kabbalah, Chariot mysticism (Merkabah mysticism). And the waters rise and fall and the power of their wind bursts from "The sound of the mountains in breaths of a pure beat" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 82). And in another poem the water is used as a purification of the body and soul "My few tears to the purity of the stream of mercy of your image" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 83). "In the image of the water the ropes of death chant their spirits/ With tears of soil they wander to God" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 84). And the water is used for the purification of the deceased, who are separated from our world and their spirit ascends to the world above and their body remains in the ground. Life and death maintain a cycle known from days long ago. "And the imperial rain rains freedom on the land of my poetry" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 11). The sound of water is compared to the rain that showers the earth with the sound of many waters because this is the greatness of God and this is how he redeems human life. Even the poet's poetry about the prophetic calling becomes personal poetry, pure on one hand and holy on the other, since the gates of heaven cover the aura of her faith.

The voice of prophetic poetry

Where will poetry be found? Where will the word of prophecy come from? Both questions deal with "how" the word of prophecy will be spoken and whether the one who speaks it is worthy of being a messenger of God. Hayim Nahman Bialik once mentioned a cricket in one of his poems. The poet in this book, "Daughter of God," voices her words, in contrast to Bialik's cricket, in the dance of the soul- a dance that includes a scale of sounds. "And in the voice/ The dance of the soul/ I am the one who dances love- and the fragile moon/ Flashes his golden soul/ In a human dance" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 93). All the poems in this book have a background setting: the darkness of night, a fragile moon, and the sound of voices from upper and lower waters, all of which create before the readers' eyes a creation along with sounds and holy awe. The poet dances to the light of "The moon kneaded with dreams" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 97). And how beautiful is God's prayer medley, even when the spirit is lonely, empty and bleak. Then comes an energy of light that floods her in the night's dream like a prophecy dancing in her soul "In the kneeling of my rivers to the string of God my eyes pace" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 98). "And the chord of the earth roots the branches of my years/ To the time that creates poetry in my body along the melody of summer" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 99). Time creates poetry/prophecies. The body receives wings and the poet in the poem is not only a prophet of messages, but also a shining angel. She comes to guide those walking on a crooked and twisted path and show them their way. "The Creator of the holiness carries life/ As a bird of expanses… soaring to the horizon that plants freedom in the soil of life" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 101). The spirit of prophecy rests upon her and she "Embraces the scroll of my Torah in my body as an everlasting treaty" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 103), because she was chosen from the silence, "Savior of existence/ Priest in my heart/ The writings of your face / Miracles... The Holy One in the desert will call me/ The voice of actions/ Lord of the world/ King of kings" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 105). She was chosen to instruct the heart and soul, to show the way "And here I am" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 110). "I am a Hebrew...in the world of the heart of the field God will protect me/ And in the in the grace of the beat of worlds of heaven/ from wheat and barley/ To the land of the living my God will carry me" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 113). And a few words about the design of the book and the language of the poetry. On the front cover there is the figure of the poet against a picture of the moon, which appears as a symbol throughout the whole book. The moon that illuminates the world at night bears witness to the role that the daughter of God received- to direct her gaze and lead the way out of the love of faith and the love of her divine calling. The use of words from the Aramaic language, that finds a way into her poems, indicates that Iris Calif is a descendant of Kabbalists and was blessed with the prophecies of the spirit of the heart and with abilities of channeling and spiritual vision "And in the sight of the worlds/ God will cover me/ Sun/ Earth/ Moon/ Stars/ Clouds/ Heavens/ waterfalls streams rivers/ Rain/ Mountains/ Seasons/ Soul/ Eve/ Man/ Daughter of man/ Daughter of God/ Daughter of life" - Iris Calif"©️ (p. 109). The coverage is the garment of prophecy, that is both local and universal, something external. And the garment, when it wraps the body, also allows the soul to be wrapped in it as well. And what is the holy covering without the body and soul together? And the book left me with a meditation of sounds, a contemplation of my path as a daughter of man, a daughter of God, whose spirit of God hovers around me, over me and below me, pouring love into me between the sacred and the mundane through the secrets of the Torah, the secrets of creation and the secrets of the poetry of this book




About the author of the article Yehudit Malik-Shiran--ISRAEL

A creative artist writes and composes my songs.

 Owns an "efi-log" radio in Israel. An educator and a therapist with a combination of arts. A poet and writer for children and adults

Owner of "Bat Or" book publishing house. She won awards for her books and her works were published in magazines in Israel and abroad. Editor of the magazine "On the Way" which gives a platform to poets, writers and painters. High school teacher and journalist, literary and music critic ..








About the poet Iris Calif -ISRAEL

Iris was born and lives in Israel she is an international writer, poet, dancer, editor and translator of poetry to Hebrew. She is in charge of foreign relations in the online culture, literature, art and poetry magazine "The Direction of the Holy Spirit Wind" ("Bekiovn Hroh") a translator and an editor of world-wide poetry in the magazine and editor of international anthologies at the magazine, as well as in the culture and lifestyle magazine "Mokasini" and in the "World Poetry" section on the literature website "Rooms" ("Hadarim"). She is also a member of the Composers' Association of Hebrew authors and publishers in Israel named "ACUM".

Iris is received of the International Prize for Literature Italy - Milan 2024: 'CITY OF GALATEO' Special award for excellence 'città del Galateo' in the category of foreign writers from around the world, poetry and fiction on a free topic, for the poem she wrote "Angel of Life".

Iris received the 2023 award for International Best Poets & POETS:

THE JOURNAL OF RENDITION OF INTERNATIONAL POETRY- IPTRC [Multilingual] CHINA and she was selected- to be one of the "20 Top International Journalists for the year 2024 of Legacy Crown’s" -ASIA. She also holds 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 the culture world "International Poetic Community" 2022.

Iris 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. She takes part in the editorial board of the World Poetry Yearbook 2024 (English edition) and holds an honorary doctorate from the International Forum for Creativity, Humanity and Coexistence, Kingdom of Morocco.

Iris is a descendant of a lineage of Kabbalists, blessed with the prophecy of the spirit of the heart and the ability of communication and vision, which are expressed in her mystical and Kabbalistic writing, endowed with spiritual touches of holy upper and hidden worlds. For her, it is a blessing to shine with the spirit of the Jewish voice from the depths of love, life, and faith in the creator of the world- our father in heaven

"And as I soar with the flight of my spirit soul, I will carry the holy halo of the light of my Jewish loving voice, in the eternally world of the wings of the Dove of God spirit of the land-living peace"-Iris Calif


Three of Iris's books have already been published: "In a Mysterious magical path Lolita breathes" (2001), "A Pure Wild moon" (2017), and "The daughter of God" (2020), and she is currently working on her fourth book. Her poems have been published and read on the radio, on television, on the internet, in national and international magazines and newspapers and in anthologies around the world, and were translated by international poets into numerous languages such as Spanish, Bengali, Nepali, Arabic, Chinese, Turkish, Assamese, Russian, Albanian and Italian.

Iris's poems were presented in many prestigious and international exhibitions in Israel such as "Crowns of Winter" (January 2023), where a poem of hers translated into Bengali was displayed alongside poems by seven international poets, each translated and edited into Hebrew by her. Also, the exhibition "Black-Red-White" displayed Iris's translated versions of poems written by five international poets. Most recently, Iris's poems, also translated into Chinese, Italian, Spanish and Arabic, were presented in the universal exhibition "Butterflies of Peace", which also included the poems of 21 poets from around the world, translated by Iris into Hebrew.

Iris's poetry reflects the inner journey of her soul, which looks through love, dreams of life and breathes holy and hidden worlds. Her poetry is a symbol and an expression of her victory over anorexia and her courageous decision to choose life and love.

"And in my living Iris soul; Golden Irises of the Blue heaven Sky

And My Spirit; Dances the Living Voice of the Holy God Life" -Iris Calif-©️







                            שיריה של המשוררת איריס כליף ©

Poems by the International poet Iris Calif – ISRAEL


THE HUMAN DIVINE FLOWER; THE IRIS

 

God


In the Living halo of heaven’s candlesticks is my blue gold burning candle flame

As Iris a human flower I am inflaming my heaven dance to the human moon

And in pure wilderness of desert wild ashes,


A Life; 


And the days gather the spirit soul of the angel of my life

Creates my human Iris flower heart 

To the holy land of the heaven wind

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©








Daughter of the God - 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  

He carries the God of my body in front of the virtue of the hidden royal of the firstborn Moon 

And in the creation of my heart 

A fate of love's spirit is inscribed

Blessed Daughter of God

I am the naked ballerina, dancing the spirit words of the poetry of 

 the sacred lyrical poems  

Touching of the sacred land hymns 

Kissing heavenly things in paradise

 And in the Bible of life’s desert an offering of forests

The golden sun sheds love

A soul of living life grows

Silence kneels before the Divine spirit

 A halo of an essential melody

 And the whisper sound of my breath embraces the mountain of the sacred Stone of God

And the glorious rain shall call and release the land of my heaven's poetry

And in the fields of the everlasting blossom of world

Daughter of love

Daughter of Human

Daughter of Eve 

Daughter of Isaac 

Daughter of Maria  

Daughter of the sun

Daughter of the moon

Daughter of the stars

Daughter of the land

 Daughter of the worlds

Daughter of living

Daughter of God 

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©




THE DESERT BRIDE-IRIS CALIF     


In the calm prayer of your rains, simulates virtue of love


In God's garment to my body, I predict my body

To the silence of the divine wind

The darkness carrying love

Desire raising my dream 


And the summer candle is lit by a holy life

Reigns in the crown of winter writings of my soul

The evening creates my passion that gives birth to existence

The night is heavily breathing the sand in the pasture of the world

And in the knowledge of heaven

I am the bride of the desert

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©


GOD'S MOON- IRIS CALIF -ISRAEL

Tonight; the voice of God's moon rises and the Nile angels are carrying the holy Dawn of my body


In the river the boundaries of the holy anomaly

To the hidden Spirit

For a winter fast, the universe of my steps will be stride

"Lord of armies"  " King of honor" 

The God of the Worlds, The Creator of the Living

My blowing voice is distinguished by the twilight of Your holy Torah 

Waking up in the soul of the land

Savior of existence in the exhalation of the righteous

The night exceeds love affairs in the delight of darkness

To my naked body at the Silence the Stars

Crossing a mountain of heaven

And in the fields of the golden wind of the mysterious angels.

My breathe is alien

On God's Moon

Kneeling my dream

Spreading like a seed of the juniper

 In the sands of anomaly  

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©


HUMAN DANCE - IRIS CALIF - ISRAEL 

In the night river,

The cypress of your eyes

Binds my soul and the naked spirit

Catches up my innocent world,

And a loud dance of the soul mind.

I’m dancing love by yours,

Distilling my body to your needs.

The winds of your stars

Pierce

Drowning senses to the halo of the collected sun silently

And in the crown of heaven my passion is crumbled

Wrapped in the solitude of your heart,

And the moon is fragile;

 flash his golden soul

In a human dance 

"All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©





A WOMAN AS BROOK OF DESERT -IRIS CALIF 



With the letter love, biding the violin of eternity

Embroidering melodies to my nude body;

The words of heaven

Miracles occurs;

Sun sets the world apart

I roar silently, naked,

Carving souls of existence,

Saints hover cratt in rain gloves

Reviving the cradle of waters

Crossing my dress,

My heart, in the warmed-up sand,

The night enchants consolation,

Silence of human delusions

The creation wind is racing in her bound beauty,

To the mountain coast

I am breached now; woman

 As brook of desert.

 "All rights reserved to Iris Calif"©




"קולה של בת האלוהים -ריקוד האור וריקוד הקדושה" 

אודות כתיבתה ,שיריה והספר "בת אלוהים" של המשוררת איריס כליף 

מאת: יהודית מליק-שירן©

   

תרגום מעברית לאנגלית :ירדן זהבי ©

תרגום הציטוטים הספרותיים מעברית לאנגלית מעברית בשיריה של איריס:   

איריס כליף .

תרגום שיריה של איריס מעברית לאנגלית :איריס כליף  

כל הזכויות של הציטוטים הספרותיים והשירים באנגלית שמורות למשוררת איריס כליף ©    

הספר "בת אלוהים" ראה אור בהוצאת חדרים  - 2020 -




المنتدى الدولي للإبداع والإنسانية المملكة المغربية

 Speak Only Light Poem original by Aziz Mountassir English version by Neide Romani  Do not let your tongue become a blade that wounds the in...