Mediterranean Waves

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Front cover boats are painted by Abd Elwahab,

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Yassin Harraz and Aqilah Riadh

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Part I

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Mediterranean Waves                          

Liana Badr (Palestine) ………………………………………………………. *008] Fahredin Shehu (Kosovo) …………………………………………………. *012] Maria Do Sameiro Barroso (Portugal) ………………………………. *022] Cilenti Emanuele(Italy) ……………………………………………………. *028] AshrafAboul-Yazid (Egypt) ………………….……………………………. *034] Smaragdi Mitropoulou (Greece) ……………………………………. *042] Nemer Saady (Palestine) …………………………………………………. [046] Moamen Samir (Egypt) ……………………………………………………. *052] Deema Mahmood (Egypt) …………………..……………………………. *056] Dr. Muhammad Helmy Al-Risha (Palestine) ………………..……. *062] Rasha Ahmed (Egypt) …………………………………………….…………. *072] Ana Stjelja (Serbia) ……………………………………………………………. *076] Mumtaz Haramy (Syria) ……………………………………………………. *082] Linda Ibrahim (Syria) ……………….……………….…..…………………. *086+ Marija Najthefer Popov (Serbia) ……..…………...…..……………. *094+ Rouba El-Youssef (Lebanon) …………….………..….……..…………. *106+ Marko Stanojevic (Serbia) …………..……………………………..……. *116+ Moaen Shalabia (Palestine) …………..……………..…………………. *122+ Tarek Ammar (Egypt) ………………………………………………………. *130+ Antonis Filippeos (Greece) …………….…………....…………………. *136+ Bilal Al-Masry (Lebanon) ……………..………….……..………………. *142+ Munira Mesbah (Lebanon) …….………………....………..…………. *146+ Nina Lys Affane (Algeria) …………………………………………………. *156+ Jasna Šamid (Bosnia and Herzegovina) …………..…………..……. *164] Pambos Kouzalis (Cyprus) …………………………………………..……. *168] Safaa Al- Bialy (Egypt) ……………..………………………………………. [174]

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Youssef Lazrak (Morocco) ……………………………….……………. *182] Nawar Al-Shater (Syria) ……………………………………………………. *188] Nina Alexi (Greece) …………….……………………………………………. *200] Dr. Nawal Alhwar (Syria) …………………………………………………. *208] Ljiljana Jaric (Serbia) ……………..…………………………………………. *214] Rifaa’ Abu-Jabal (Syria) ….…………………………………………………. *218] Anita Pešid Lutkoljubica (Serbia) ………………………………………. *222] Katarina Sarid (Monte Negro) ………..…………………………………. *228] Mahmoud Suleiman (Egypt) ……….……………………………………. *232] Mohammed El Hedeiny (Egypt) ……………………..…………..……. *236] Mohamed Ghazi Al-Najjar (Egypt) …………….……..………..……. *242] Dr. Nina Abdul Razzaq (Palestine) …….…………..…………………. *252] Jasmina Hanjalid (Bosnia and Herzegovina) ……..………………. *258] Nikola Šimid Tonin (Croatia) .………….………………..………………. *262] Goran Radičevid (Monte Negro) …….………………..………………. *266] Jelena Ljubenovid (Serbia) ……………………………………….………. *274] Mohamed Gassara (Tunisia) ……………………………………………. *280] Türkan Ergör (Turkey) …………………..…………………………………. *286] Metin Fındıkçı(Turkey) ……………….……………………………………. *292]

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

PART II The Other Waves Xanthi Hondrou-Hill (Germany) …………………………………………. *300] Francisco Azuela (Mexico) …………………………………………………. *304] Umid Ali (Uzbekistan) ……….………………………………..….…………. *314] Suchismita Ghoshal (India) ………………………………..………………. *320] Nigar Arif(Azerbaijan) ……………………………………………..…………. *330] Kemala (Malaysia) ………………………………………………………..……. *336] Lily Siti Multatuliana SutanIskandar (Indonesia) ……………….… *340] Fares Aljanadi (Yemen) ………………………………………………………. [344] Madhu Gangopadhyay (India) .……………………………………..……. *348] Mahanaj Parvin (Bangladesh) ………………..……………………..……. *354] Muhabbat Yuldasheva (Uzbekistan) ) …………………………….…. *358] Sherzod Artikov (Uzbekistan) ) …………..…………………………….. [364] Swapanjoy Chowdhury (Bangladesh) ) …………..………………... [368] Lev RI Ardiansyah (Indonesia) ) ……..………….….…………………. *372] Umida Khushvaktova (Uzbekistan) ) …………………………………. *376] Sheena Chak (Malaysia) ) ……………………………………………….…. *380] Deepika Singh (India) ) ………………….……………………………….…. *384] Debaprasanna Biswas (India) ) ……………………………………..……. *390] RezaUddin Stalin(Bangladesh) ) …………………………………………. *396] Sajid Hussain (Pakistan) ) ……………………..……………………………. *402] Sue Zhu (New Zealand) ) ……………………………………………………. *408] Dr. Raja Rajeswari Seetha Raman (Malaysia) ) ……………..……. *414] Aasia Majeed (Pakistan) ) …………………..…………………………..…. *420] Pankhuri Sinha (India) ) ………………………………………………………. *424] Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta Mewadev (India) ) ………………………. *436]

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                        

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Artists

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Abdel Wahab Abdel Mohsen Ahmed Hilal Al-Hussaini Ali Rami Rabee Zakaria Al-Qadhi Samir Abdul-Azim Samir Abdel-Fadil Alaa Abu Al-Hamd Ali Hassan Omar Al-Fayoumi Muhammad Abla Mustafa Issa Ahmed Walid Qanoush Yassin Harraz Evelyn Asham Allah Jihan Suleiman Jihan Fayez Sally Al-Zaini Aqeelah Riyadh Mervat Shazly Mona Gharib Eman Ezzat Muhammad Abu Al-Wafa Israa Zidan Kamal Abu Halawa (Jordan) Huma Khan (India)

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Liana Badr Three Poems

1 My body is stitched by small diamonds It is the remains of the stars Before the cosmos expelled Me to the earth .

2 This small paradise is enough for me This small light is more than I asked.

Just small tree leaves Carved by your name written with the water of planets

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is a complete joy for me .

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

3 Don‟t leave the dream Stay inside it‟s home .

Stay between it‟s forests and rivers .

Stay in the rusted Hennah Painted on the hands .

short story writer and film director, who is one of the most celebrated and translated Palestinian writers. She was exiled from Jericho in 1967 and lived in many countries. she has directed seven documentary films, which have received many international awards.

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Liana Badr was born in Jerusalem. She is a Palestinian novelist,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Boat Art Abd Elwahb

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Fahredin Shehu COUNTING THE SNOWFLAKES In over three decades I meandered in the visible semi-visible and invisible running after the echoes of you whispering my name yet I could not-ever-see the face that would lay a sigh of relief and the glance that imprints its seal on my skin

I went on counting the stars and got nipples in both of my hands as rewardthe reward as bitter as Absynth, deliberately waiting

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to taste better the sweetnes afterwards

I started to collect the dews from June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

the Lilly of the Valey and heard the winds that shook the barley leaves- leaving a golden metallic sounds

I climbed the hill, run up with the lungs full of air and saw the different colors of my blood how it turns and transmutes into transparent

On the hill I connected from Nadir to Horizon- the flashlight I turned into a plasmatic sphere of existance rolling down the hill on the wet grass I slide the summer rain washed away

passion, ego, and you name it

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all my sins that were: lust,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

In over three decades- on every winter I counted the snowflakes and observed how they melted on my eyelashes I formed a ball of snow and swallowed a mere lump of it to reckon how it became a fifth state of the matter and my throat got hot- releasing the strange sounds of my pre-birth

Here we are standing on the wings of the suffer and lack of counsciousness that Life is the most extraordinary and the Love is Hesh* body ...while we still count the snowflakes

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*Hesh-stands for genderless state of the Being i.e. He/She

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

PALLAS ATHENA ...and where did you hide for so long just now when I reckon you in Aquarius Shall you have to say something loudly I shall keep my ears open and the mouth shut the eyes with trippled dioptrics to see all your battles you craftily won and the Art I do conquer for about thirty years wants to resurrect into a tangible something un-named so far to last longer than the ten lifespans of the mere mortals

...and I took the arrow to target the Saturn's ring

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full of ice nuggets and clods

In my remorse I shan't change my name June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

In my happiness I shall not evaporate the essence

In my dispair I shall not dry all tears so they may fall like dandroff

In my bewilderment I shall not loose myriads of worlds so packed into a lump of DNA

In my awe I shall not fear the unknown so overwhelmingly envelopes me

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Pulsing tightly and sometimes loose

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Boat Art Abd Elwahab June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

AUGMENTATION they stretched their wings beneath whom the tiny bells rang the smell of Ozone evaporated and the crystalline echoes shuddered my skin The day was long, longer than any...

The night was long and dark as ink

The hours were counted by the appearance of dandellions The days counted by eggs in every morning I saw the sky showing the entire Avesta page by page I took the dew with my tongue from the last green leaf of the Amarylis

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The Maelstrom twisted me entirely and projected me in her dream

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Fahredin Shehu is a World renowned poet from Kosovo who authored over 20 books: mainly Poetry, essay, novel etc.

His poetry is translated in around 30 languages and brought him many literary prizes.

For his unique Philosopical and Artistic expression he was awarded Doctor Honoris Causa and Lifetime Academic in Switzerlad and was nominated for Pulitzer prize.

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He is The Director of International Poetry Festival in Kosovo

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Boat Art Abd Elwahab June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Maria do Sameiro Barroso SCENTED WOODS I run, in the rust of time, with feet of dance.

I hide in the shadows, in the dyed glass, in ruby strawberries.

A grasshopper jumps on living stones.

The mineral world never questions the graveyards of youth, the gardens of March, the skin of music where violets and gold crash in waving sounds of scented woods.

GOLDEN HORN My heart plunges in a subway season,

float in empty barks, carry myriads

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ancient words have burst into the ether,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Omar Elfayoumi

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

of charms.

I hold your rituals in my hands.

In the morning flutes, in the harps of night.

I carry endless lilies and stones, I swim in the rivers of silence, my hair is a labyrinth of shadows.

You rear cider and wings.

I‟m a strange drink in a golden horn.

THE MERCHANTS OF SILENCE The merchants of silence have also been here, in the expanded roads of earthy heaven, crossing the sacred fire, uttering words of silk, spices and fiery gems; a new clarity arising in the exchange of beauty, new feelings

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arising in the gorgeous sight of the bright dawn carrying the incense of darkness.

In Atropates, now Azerbaijan, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

the purest essences of dew and light summon for long the long-lasting embrace of love and friendship, under the radiant moon, and the brightest glaze of the morning sun.

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Maria do Sameiro Barroso (Portugal) is a medical doctor and a multilingual poet, translator, essayist and researcher in Portuguese and German Literature, translations studies and History of Medicine. She has authored over 40 books of poetry, published in Portugal, Brazil, Spain, France, Serbia, Belgium, Albany, USA, and translations and books of essays. Her poems are translated into over twenty languages.

She was awarded national and international prizes such as International Prize Pray of Mother Teresa, Literary Club “Gjon Nikkollë Kazazi, Gjakovë, Kosovo (2019); Prix du Concours International de poésie de l'Académie Européene des Sciences, des Arts et des Lettres (AESAL) 2020; 1st Prize "Versos del Pilcomayo” Bolivia (2020).

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Omar Elfayoumi

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Emanuele Cilenti The eagle always finds the way to heaven.

One last flight of a swallow a last caress given by the sea to the rock.

The sun that shatters on the mirror of the ocean in shreds of shiny diamonds.

An uprooted ear and cut by the ax fatal of the storm.

An eagle waiting his mom thinks it's lost

the way to heaven.

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but an eagle always finds

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Rami Rabei

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Death is a deaf despot and never listens our prayers take away who we want that you stay with us he does it out of spite he does it because he is cruel.

But in the dark of darkness the blazing light always comes and radiant with the rainbow that always shows us the way towards heaven.

Live poetically.

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Life is all a poem, the Poet who composed it one day lodges up there in the skies, the moments of existence are like a flow of waters towards the mouth of the sea, the blood traces the direction!

Sometimes we open our eyes but don't see, have we all gone blind? No! Let's not look carefully at the light of the beauty that surrounds us, let's just see everything dark!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Our soul is like a blank sheet, the Creator writes his laws on it with ink so that we no longer lie to ourselves and so that we see the reflections of justice!

Our lives are all lyrics in motion collected in the book of the world which as a title reports: "Life of everyone, existence of nobody's"!

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Our eyes are feathers that slide and compose traits and words preserved in the vast encyclopedia of our heart, our speech must always speak of love and passion!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Emanuele Cilenti, born in Messina, Italy, in 1981, is: poet, writer, actor, songwriter, film maker.

He has published ten books: "A blade of grass that tickles the sky", "Dream journeys of my soul", "I'm just a nightmare", "Violent percussions", "Celestial whispers", "Petals of infinity", " Immortal echoes ”,“ Ink tears on the face of the heart ”,“ Help! I have two mummies in the house ”,“ That trail of light and beauty ”. As a poet and writer he has won several poetry prizes in Italy and has also received several awards and prizes also internationally. His poems have been translated into: Spanish, English, Romanian and Chinese, and are part of numerous anthologies featuring poets from all over the world.

As a songwriter he has written the lyrics of two albums by as many emerging artists of the Italian music scene and collaborates with a record company in the province of Messina.

As a theater actor he has been acting since 2007 with various theater companies in Messina.

At the cinema he participated in five independent Sicilian films, interpreting various comic and dramatic roles.

As a film maker, he made six short films entitled: "Beyond the journey", "The death of the puppets", "The molds", "A sea of meshes", "Mortal hypnosis", "7LIVES ... destroyed" and are located in own Youtube channel, this is the link: https://www.youtube.com/user/Elemento408.

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He collaborated as a TV actor in Mediaset (Italian national TV) in a famous television broadcast.

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Ashraf Aboul-Yazid The Traveler When you returned home, Your face was as cold as their blood, Your hands were as dark as their hands, Your hugs were a mount not a passage.

When you returned home, You were just an ID, No longer a human being!

What the Boat Said The waves are my swing; The moment you shake them, I got up, To get your kiss, I spread my sails

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To hold you, But you scoffed me, Sent me to cry, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

I tried to run away, But you were there, around me, Inside me, So, I sank in you!

The Fire of Questions 1 Will you paint a wound?

Or are you going to cover it with make up, - as you did yesterday The same fainted wound Of a heart left by family, And became a caved corner?

2 The birds were consumed by exiles; When will you cut The wings of being away?

3 We lost our eyes,

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In the countries we learnt how to see,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

So when could we get red of The memory of silence?

4 Why did the table come, With a glass and roses, Why did the café‟s waitress appear, And the woman we had a date with Was absent?

5 Could the most dangerous sea be divided With a green branch?

6 Who shall set fire, In the grass beneath my bare feet, When I leave her?

7 It is the same sky that my room

They are the same stars that light

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Sleeps under,

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My balcony, So why is the evening here Is always showing sad faces to the face of my solitude?

8 My heart is the towel of their massacres, So did my eyes not cry?

9 Seventy seas of sadness travel in our blood, Seventy seas with no shores..

Why?

10 Why do we kill the letter (*‫) ن‬ When its dot is leaving The jail with solid walls?

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*Letter ( ‫ )ن‬in Arabic (Pronounced: Noon) is the symbol of females.

When this dot seeks freedom, it always find obstacles raised by the prisons of traditions

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Aqilah Riadh

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Ashraf Aboul-Yazid is an Egyptian poet, novelist and journalist born in 1963. He is the Editor-in-Chief, THE SILK ROAD LITERATURE SERIES. He has been working in Cultural Journalism for more than 30 years. He authored and translated 35 books. Some of his novels and poetry volumes have been translated into English, Spanish, Turkish, Persian, Korean, Malayalam, Sindhi and German books and anthologies. He was chosen the Man of Culture for the Year, 2012, Tatarstan, Russia. He won Manhae Prize in Literature, 2014, the Republic of Korea. He won the Arab Journalism Award in Culture, 2015, UAE. Currently he is the president of Asia Journalist Association (since April 2016).

Poetry Books          

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Washwashat Al Bahr, (the Whisper of the Sea), Cairo, 1989.

Al Asdaf, (the Shells), Cairo, 1996.

Zakirat Al Samt, (the Memory of Silence), Beirut, 2000.

FawqaSirat Al Mawt , (On the Passage of Death), Cairo, 2001.

Zakirat Al Farashat, (the Memory of Butterflies), Cairo, 2005.

Una calleen el Cairo, (A street in Cairo), (Spanish), Casa de Poesa – Editorial UCR, Costa Rica, 2010.

YaraliGÜvercinlerIrmaği, (Turkish), Artshop, Istanbul, Turkey, 2012.

The memory of Butterflies , (Persian), Afraz, Tehran, 2013 The Memory of Silence, English, Poetrywala, Mumbai, 2016 (The Whisper of the Sea), (Spanish), Casa de Poesa – Editorial UCR, Costa Rica, 2018.

A Street in Cairo (Sindhi), Dareen, Germany, 2020 A Street in Cairo (German), Dareen, Germany, 2020

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Boat Art Aqilah Riadh

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Smaragdi Mitropoulou EROTIC My heart is a gypsy a free bird flying in the wind a mermaid diving into the sea waves…

But tonight only yours I shall be; tonight… the moon bleeds and love in red dances flamenco.

ETERNITY Sky is a foreign land angels are travelbirds looking for their familiar old places.

You spread your wings over the oceans with a red fire scarf a kiss on the eyes oh rainbow of the heart.

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There is no "goodbye" to this love you will be back here again on the sea waves June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

wandering around the straits of time.

SUPPLICATION On paper I inscribe words of supplication to long forgotten gods.

Shadows around me are trying ancient prayers to remind me.

How can a soul calm?

It hears… it feels tears and weak breaths.

Oh deities of my old ancestors I wish I could relieve all agony and pain.

Smaragdi Mitropoulou was born in Athens. She has studied history and archaeology at the University of Athens and had postgraduate history studies at the University of Cardiff, in Great Britain. She serves in secondary education. She is also a Creative Writing graduate (Diploma in Creative Writing) from the Writers’ Bureau College (Manchester, UK), and has studied theater writing at the International Theater Institute and directing at the Foundation of Culture in Tinos island. She has received awards in Greece and abroad for her poetry and prose. Also, she is Programme Coordinator of Writers Capital International Foundation. Up to now, she has written four books, which have been published and launched in Greece. One of them, “One moment just an eternity”, has been translated in English and was published in 2020 by Ontime Books in Great Britain. Also, her poetry has been translated in Bengali, Chinese and Taiwanese language.

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On paper I inscribe words of supplication.

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Boat Art Gihan Fayez

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

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Nemer Saadi Poetic syllables from a poem

"Windows of Forgotten Mistresses"

And you say: My heart will guide me to you ..

And my voice guides me to the effect of hugs and the kiss of hands ..

The sky is low, and I fly as if I were autumn leaves I walk behind the shade of the night ..

Dance like a lover in your short poem And I run in a dream * I'll keep a cold star sleeping under it Whenever I feel lonely and need to walk around In the alleys of Cooing pigeons I will keep the commandments of women who know well How do they contain my unique poems in the rain How sleep poets' childhoods On the cushions of their tender breasts

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* He does not know that she loves him She does not know that he loves her June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Boat Art Sally El Zeiny

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For a year and a half, they disagreed on the meaning of the word friendship on Facebook He did not speak to her, nor did she speak to him except with obsessions There is nothing between them except for some quick likes and neutral comments A stranger loves a stranger who treats her life as a waitress in a bar Every night she dreams that she is wandering around a city without features She sells the grain on a wagon of clouds At the end of the night, everyone goes to his bed and his poem After the silver dust of illusion flickers from his eyes He drinks his bitter cup of coffee And his last cigarette and he sleeps * I am not a wolf and I have not been a shadow of a wolf But I might smell your mistake As if I smelled the aroma of quince at the beginning of the night ..

Forget my way home

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But I will keep your heart by heart * No work for me this day June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Except that I picked up a leaf of an autumn rose from the ground And he made of them the lips of a woman who read in the collar of the dove Or look at a sprig of an apple tree that is half dry I imagine it as the arm of a beloved in a novel that has not been written yet It rests on the shadow of a cloud in one of my poems Spectrum is calling at the end of the road To help her take off her lemon shirt

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*

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Nimer al-Sa'di is a Palestinian poet and writer born in October, 1977, living in his small village Basmat Tab'on located east of Haifa. It is a Galilee village well known for its beautiful location and marvelous landscape as well as its charming impression upon the poet's concerned soul. Nonetheless, this soul is rich of sensitivity and vision; always tending towards freedom and the beauty of the universe which leaves open windows for the strange and far world at the same time. Thus, the poet continuously observes the fields of life and all the spaces of the universe, particularly whatever is innovative and modern.

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The poet began publishing his poetry after the ripeness and maturity of his experience together with his talent and education in Al-Itihad" newspaper in Haifa and well as "Kul-Al-Arab" and "Al-Akhbar" in Nazareth in 1999. Sa'di's collections includes Visual Music.

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Moumen Samir Iam the great prisoner (Translated by Hussein Mahmoud) More than quarter of century, the walls deride, run, and straiten Fly and extend.. but now pant and confess..

I tolerated all pains, put them in the pot Till its wonderful black heart has risen The Jewel which sleeps inside But it fills the eyes now All the shivers and troubled tears I turn it into abundant politeness, disbeliever, takes the amity to its origin seeds, to the cruelty And takes the touch to the kick And takes the kiss to the killing I break all the faces of the cupboards And I reveal them to rise I won't love God unless he tortures his sons Iam the genius prisoner

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My back hurts me, but the Jailer Will hear the truth a clear hell..: June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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" Four short poems"

By Moumen Samir- Egypt Translated by Kareem Abozaid (In a white hand) Without raising his eyesight The death passess while I‟m in the window So, I run and tightens his ears saying “oh naughty” But I never say “oh liar” To not break his face And lost in his old sadness (The barbarians) My arms flew And my leather memory stiffed My bones said; I‟m dead trees The child ripped my kidney And returned old They shall pass from here And the hope only in street trembles

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And the fluctuation of our pictures In the eyes that shine us (Calender) June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The first cigarette And first cup of coffee In the first café The first kiss And your pain which dud my fear Then, the first grave (Praise) Pray by fear Pary to fear So to god your memeory healed Good evening Oh, destiny

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Moumen Samir, is a poetr who belongs to nineties Egyptian poetic generation. Born in 15/11/1975.he issued Twenty seven books. From his poetic: the ultimate ecstasy 2002.the joy of dying 2003.the blind lane of wars 2005. Deconstruction of happiness 2009.overlooking the senses 2010. Ghost glimpse in afternoon 2013. The nap of the blind wood man 2016. No bread nor wine2017.

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Deema Mahmood Death of a Poet (Translated by: Nordddine Zouitni) I heard that a close-by poet crouched inside the mouth of death I don‟t know him But the squeaking that smacked my nerve-ends Alerted me to the void around Perhaps because death sensors that in my imagination gleam in all directions showed no mercy.

They were loading children, teenagers, beautiful women, Paupers, vendors, old people, lovers, and gays for free And dumping them into junk yards full of skulls, epitaphs, and skeletons While cutting white surrender flags into shrouds, and silly coffins A poet dies That means the curve of the street corner will be sharper That bullshit will pour out of the belly of indifference That more holes and garbage will accumulate in the back street That pine and oak trees will bend

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That the executioner will increase the number of guillotines getting ready for the massacre

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

When the poet dies the wall on which jasmine sleeps will fall Orange flowers will wither, doves will cry Seas will pour into rivers Vine tree will yield raisins And young maidens will awaken from love dreams

The poet overflows with love that exceeds life Life can‟t suffer him, so it mutilates itself.

A little while in the coffin, And he‟ll seep into the eye of the sun After hiding it from the eye of death And hiding death from death itself.

He‟ll gather its light into balls that he‟ll roll over the earth So that others dance with butterflies on their way to death!

Throwing up I'm throwing up,

I curse the genes that bound me to the human race

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Yes throwing up!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Mervet Shazly

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

And handed me over to this chaos === I wish I were a mangy or a Shirazi cat, A mad or a well-bred dog.

I don‟t care, I wish I were a little bird, Or a fly teeming with microbes from dumpsites, Endowed with a pair of wings To go far away and pull my soul Out of this stinking human neurotic pit === Oh...

I‟m searching for an exit.

I‟m suffocating and floating in nausea.

Thick foam is choking me and no way to stop that !

Becoming a fetus

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I roll over myself hoping to feed on the grass of beginnings I become a fetus And get high on the musky scent of placenta June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

I recover that eternity which for a while was entwined with my mother Becoming one with it through orbits and spheres.

I emerge clean of all human sediment Clear of all their masks and effigies Free of gel and dyestuff.

I become, and I get going, without myths and prophecies.

Deema Mahmood, Egyptian poet.. Bachelor degree in Computer Sciences and Statistics, 1993. Professor assistant for many years in the departments of Computer sciences, Mathematics and Statistics in both the College of Education and the College of Health Sciences in Abha, Saudi Arabia. A Voiceover , Audio Narrator,Storyteller and Dubbing Actor.

Publications: Braids of Spirit (Poetry), Dar Al-Adham, Cairo, 2015. I Pick Quarrels with the Horizon over a Violin (Poetry), Dar Al Ain, Cairo, 2017. Inscribing Tenderly on his Papyrus Sheet, (Poetry), Haia‟t Qoussor Althaqafa, Cairo, (Forthcoming). A Fourth book of poetry in progress. Many of her poems were translated into English, French, Spanish and Portuguese and published in several anthologies in those languages. She also participated in many poetry and cultural local and International Festivals and events. Web links: http://deemamahmood.wordpress.com/

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https://www.facebook.com/damdoma.alamora https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqNpEMOwV5lP8M9BYoIoj5Q https://soundcloud.com/aldeemaalsakoob June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Mohammad Helmi Al-Rishah Long Time before Me.. Faraway After Him?!

A sudden Route Before his dayThis what baptizes inside me now Several trees of months disappeared The tongue has gloried by the silence of the lark, But a damp picture Climbed his lips as a reluctant Ladder Where the two eyes like two frames to contain it And their water is sticky fat fire!

Round Suspicion Since stare flutter sing

As if I saw edges of my round suspicion

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Inserted its glory into the flesh of my appetite,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Carrying under his arm the vague fruit book...

This astonishes me by acceleration of his springs Towards the space of my absence mind Dismisses emptiness filled by my grassy papers...

As if I am a predictor / to him Brightens me with his delicious stings from... A distance!

Delayed Nectar As if he scheduled In the preach of delayed nectar...

A man; Chases my plain by the heavy slippery of his eyes...

He does not leave for green: The fallow of chlorophyll The taste of sun‟s heat

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The cotton of water before swelling!

Higher and Nearer June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

As if he pulls my breaths by several fingers of senses; Higher than feet And nearer than a mouth leaning On his pray...

As if he is the of the injury without a wall .. In its end, And as if he means my beginning spontaneously.

Probable Fitness Why do not you take me?

You, the chords which caught electricity which talked frankly my generous thirst?

He has a range: It graduates from my high eyelashes/ I can‟t see him...

I have an iris; Which has precocious soul without exits to my probably fitness...

Whoever of us, in his confusion harried now, squeezes his legs to wind

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Towers the rosy of his other?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Evilin Ashmalla

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Merciful Hunt Spilling his rocky silence under the hat of my ear as if is golden liquid...

Take care is my merciful hunt...

I'll steal him; His kind metaphor which equal my shivering/ His shadows near me while the body verse prepare/ The attention of flows in his round nectar/ And his magnetic ink to write him On the chest of my covered density!

Little Nomination I call him: My beautiful plight...

Cloud of my tongue...

Ignored rescue...

Echo surgeon...

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Ploughed of my hanks...

High coincidence...

Water of my mirror...

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Milk of my dream!

My Prison inside Him He dives in my troubled blossom He masters tourism in my cold wildness...

I need him- opens my gulfs in the mouth liquid of his awake like melting of breathing I need my self- his sole one as a minute in broken watch...

My prison inside him, And my two verses; A book of wings opened as an injury/ Do they match the two feathers of sparrow Above a cushion?

Cheating Ache

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I long for him/ I have the vitality of astonishing as blood flows in my playfulness of my pot...

How he was not before?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

How..?

His stretched fork became nearer than an ache cheated by me Of one prominent innocence...

You, who comes from a cloud copybook: You have my awake!

Alphabetical to (M) I open- the door of range on the store of sympathy I look forward to him- a mystery disjoined like a shell between my hands I pull him- towards me by dancing hope words I compare him- a deer makes ferments jump over deserts of my chest I smell him- perfume crossing calyx of my dizzy relax I spray him- spilling of sweet flower for my heated pulses I shape him- vaguely to peel his appetites I form- his hunger to eat my loneliness!

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I Guide Him to Me

I'll not guide him to another apple, I'll guide him t me: June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Forget mountains do not reach sky Approach sheets of my beach...

There is a mediation (R) for the bow f my beginning/ A (N) for women for my middle/ Feminine (T) embraced in the end/ You have the opened gay mouth, and I have two breasts for ever!

Two Greedy Beings Lost in Their Fusion

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By: Mohammad Helmi Al-Rishah

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Mohammad Helmi Al-Rishah: Born in Nablus in Palestine. Poet, researcher and translator. - He has 39 books, 17 of which are poetry, and 22 works in biography, poetry translation, dictionaries, anthologies, and other literature. Published 9 books on his poetry, literary biography, translation, for critics and scholars. Translated some of his poetry and prose into languages: English, French, Bulgarian, Italian, Spanish, Persian and German.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Rasha Ahmed Memories don't work properly She may not have arrived, she missed the last bus.

On a rainy night, It is something good to forget I was a hole in a mirror which did not reflect my soul.

It is so good to remember nothing of those distant years except for: a scar in the heart and a rotten disposable apple.

I love you I Write "I love you" and I know it is not enough.

How did you plunge into my heart?

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How could I survive drowning?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Shall we die if love leaves us?

Simply, the heart cells will be damaged and silence will accompany us on a dark walk.

Hollowness will occupy our chests like an old black and white movie that ends tragically.

Have I said "I love you" today?

I haven't.

I'm lying.

I blame air flocks that do not carry me to you.

I blame the ship, the captain, the distances and space.

Have you confessed that you love me?

The same to me and much more.

How do I go on bare-feet?!

How not to make the same mistake again?!

How not to regain my sight?!

Rasha Ahmed Bio and poems

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Tell me how can I stop loving you?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Rasha Ahmed is an Egyptian poetess and journalist. She has five poetry collections: (Ode to adoration, 2013), (Boredom of Loses, 2014), (It was the water of my heart, 2016), (Magic of the east, an Anthology, 2017) and (With the help of a fading light, 2019).

Boat Art Eman Ezzat

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

ANA STJELJA The Mediterranean soul We gravitate towards the same land Here is a green grass, there is a golden sand We share the same cultural vibes Here live the nations, there live the tribes.

Our rivers embrace the same seas We eat the same fruit of different trees We share the same sky, the same air Who can separate us, who can dare?!

The Mediterranean soul lies deep down our core Between the East and West we open the door We are the unique gem of the sparkling lights

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We embellish the sky in the darkest nights.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Our language is different, yet we understand That we come from the same ancient land Same soil, same seed, myriads of plants

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We are the one kin of the Mediterranean lands.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Boat Art Gihan Fayez

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Ana Stjelja was born 1982 in Belgrade (Serbia). In 2005 she graduated from the Faculty of Philology from the Turkish Language and Literature Department. In 2009 she earned a Master's Degree in Sufism. In 2012 she obtained her PhD in Serbian Literature (with the thesis on the life and work of one of the first Serbian woman writers and world travelers Jelena J. Dimitrijeviš).

She is a poet, writer, translator, journalist, researcher and editor. She published more than 30 books of different literary genres. She is the Editor-in-chief of the Alia Mundi magazine for cultural diversity and the online literary magazine Enheduana. She is also the founder and the editor of the Web Portal Eastern Pearl dedicated to the literature art and culture of the East. As an acclaimed and awarded writer, she has published her works in various Serbian and international print or online magazines, literary blogs and portals. She is the regular collaborator of The Poet magazine (England).

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In 2018 she established the Association Alia Mundi for promoting cultural diversity. She is a member of the Association of Writers of Serbia, the Association of Literary Translators of Serbia, the Association of Journalists of Serbia and the International Journalist Federation (IJF) She lives in Serbia.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Boat Art Gihan Fayez

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Muataz Haramy “Voices” (Translated by Noor Saleh) Raise your voice a little bit.

A little bit more.

I beg you Hold it high High above Like this blue sky.

For all those explosions, Missiles, The last voices of men, My fast heartbeat, Are still on my ears.

“In the Morgue” (Translated by Maher Haramy) As you enter the morgue With two feet shackled to death All possibilities invade you.

Tell yourself that something has gone wrong,

In vain, you head to the blue sky.

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Or you are in the last moments of a terrifying dream.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

You bow to the body of the one you love.

Your eyes are fixed on a pale smile, Wandering in the torrent of memory, And laughter flows from the past.

When your hands touch the deadly shrapnel, Butterfly flocks burn in your heart.

“Absurd” (Translated by Dr Malek Salman) This Sea is not ours, This Desert is not ours, Not even these Mountains; On his return from battle The soldier always stumbles; For nothing belong to him, Except the defeats Tattooed on his body

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And the laces on his worn out boots.

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Muataz Haramy: I was born in Jiser Al-Shogour , Syria, in 1986. I have a Bachelor's degree in Arts and Humanities from the University of Aleppo. I am an English teacher and a freelance translator. I have been wriing poetry since 2010. I participated in “ Museum of Ruins”, an anthology of poems written by Syrian poets. I also publish my poems on many literary websites and social media.

Boat Art Samir Abdul Azim

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Linda Salman Ibrahim The Wood & The Shepherd * The wood is deserted The wood is vague The Wood is fragrant The wood is delicate Hey Shepherd…

Where on Earth are you ** The wood is far away The wood is very hard The wood is dewy The wood is still untrodden yet Hey… Shepherd…!

Hurry up… *** The wood is sleepy

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And the sleep is…

YOU The wood is dormant June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

And the dream is…

YOU The wood is latent And the trigger is…

YOU The wood is crouching And the Knight is…

YOU… Hey shepherd…!

Go … shove off *** The wood is heady…

With glasses filled The wood is heady…

Raising cheers The wood is thorough And its hill is excited…

The wood is a woman

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Hey, shepherd…

Go on… **** June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The wood is cane And the wind is …

YOU The wood is a flute And the pain is…

YOU The wood is a desire And the sympathy is…

YOU Hey shepherd…

Shove off… ………………………

"GABALA"… * A daffodil, it‟s been once, above a dense bush God has been with her in a cloud of Cytoplasm God bless her…

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Bless her oldness, her love, her soul….

Her phoenix that dark-lines the eyes of rainy clouds God bless her…

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

And peace is from her… ** "GABALA"… is God‟s rose opened amidst blindness "GABALA"… is the essence of beauty & secret of eternity "GABALA"… is the crown‟s jewel and the temple‟s pommel "GABALA"… is once God‟s eye, and another for Home "GABALA"… is God‟s daughter… God's well… and God's core…

"GABALA"… is heart‟s icon and the divinity‟s bed embroidered with eternal blue…

"GABALA"… is Tattooed on my lover‟s chest "GABALA"… is the temple's, the castle's and the walls' daughter, once she announced the time of QYAMAH… Crowned with an ancient sailor‟s tears and verged with sea‟s anger…

On her stage was Heaven‟s priest First dance There… where “Adonis” was baptized…

Where Anemones emerged, So colored my lover‟s shirt… ***

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"GABALA"…

Here‟s my bosom... rest your winter head…

And take part of my soul…

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Mostafa Eissa Ahmed

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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I‟m the s oul that goes around your enamored ancient face, Thus is my lover‟s Peace be with him And from him.

“GABALA”: Is the Assyrian ancient name of the Syrian current “Jableh” city according to most historical resources ……………………………………………

Poem III Object: “from the knight‟s guard to the lady who never sleeps.. light on the night, so the day will burn up…”

“May your sun never leave my land…”

Hey… dawn, Fatigue Hearts‟ postman…

I can hear your guard‟s traces…

Who lightens sound‟s incense…

And puts oil for her desire's lantern Hey dew…

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Set on her deserted spring…

Pet her body And dress her feet with nostalgia June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

So the lovers‟ windows stay asleep Hey, Pollen!!

Your nebula is leafy…

And her eyes are my spring…

Her voice is lands‟ exultation And the wound of my soul‟s flute…

Hey, night…!

Hey, dawn…!

Kiss her voice…

My lady…

Who never sleeps….

(Translation into English by: Lubana Ali Aljundi) Linda Salman Ibrahim: Born in Damascus-Syria B.Sc. in Electrical Engineering. Member in Arab Writers Union, poets Member in Engineers Corporation . Participant member in Journalists Union. She's published six poetic collections; one is narrative Awards: 1- "Prince of Poets" contest in Abu Dhabi, UAE 2013

3- "Omar Abu Reesheh" contest for Arabic poetry/ Syria 2016

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2- "Nazek Almalaykeh" Arabic feminist poetry contest / Baghdad- Iraq 2014

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Marija Najthefer Popov ROSE GARDEN (Defloration)

I met you in the rose garden like a bee would nectar and pollen powder, to use for honey, royal jelly, honeycomb.

I brought you into myself, for fertilisation in my life and every future breath.

My dream of you

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(in sign of rose royal, unreal beautiful in all her splendor,) June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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is like a castle hidden in the rose garden, all mine.

My dream of you, longing, identical to barefoot dancing at the ball of roses, or walk through rose garden when darkness covers the beauty of the roses.

Roses become strippers casting their petals away!

With intoxicating aroma they flood senses until the down of my desire.

On my skin rose oil and your hand

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rose thorns, only a bloody trail remains.

My first walk through the rose garden…

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

GARDEN AND ROSES When you step into my rose garden walk slowly, barefooted in a shirt made of the soul.

Do not put on you any other apparel but code you used to unlock my garden.

O, and do not press your nose in the rose‟s heart, not too deep.

Admire her and gently smell her.

She will retract her thorns and hug you, while intoxicating with scents like with sweet, deceptive liqueurs made of roses.

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Do not force your selfthorns will not understand you.

Fear will upset them June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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and they will come in front of me like a shield hindering your intention.

You will not escape.

Do not forget you came in believing, committed in the shirt made of soul, bear footed on thorns.

If you stay sober and loyal, in carriage made of petals with horses made of fragrance, you will be my gardener.

You gardener, will be worth having all my buds, budding for you in honor and delight.

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marijanajtheferpopov@

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Boat Art Yassin Harraz June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

ESCAPE FROM ONE’S SELF Have you ever killed your own shadows that stalk you like apparitions that terrify you and always look like some scary beasts with the figure of a man and many sharp teeth in his head.

His eyes are bloodshot, stare glacial; his claws are made for killing and want to rip your chest open, to pluck and eat your heart.

Shrunken, from all that horror,

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(which stalks you in broad daylight) size of a sparrow‟s heartyour little heart.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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That shadow follows you in the middle of a clear starry night, but in darkness hides itself in threatening clouds.

It is so scary when it is above you, but you cannot see the horror, except for its glowing eyes and disfigured bloodthirsty teeth ready to sink into your neck and slaughter your soul…

Have you ever killed your own shadows that stalk you?

You swing sun‟s rays at the horizon -in vain.

Like a hundred-headed monsters,

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shadows multiply and choke while your breath is held June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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between terrible memories and a difficult present.

They choke, choke! marijanajtheferpopov@

YOUR WORD IS ENOUGH

I say a word.

And I say to the universe: It is enough for me when your thirst spills on my skin.

When you lap up shallow sweat from my skin, like a thirsty dog, it is enough, just that much,

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for me to scream and erase all in between.

I feel I am knitted June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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into you and your skin.

Your body is hungry for my bites and words pored into your ears.

Until unification I marked us as blaze of eternal fires in the blod…

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marijanajtheferpopov@

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Marija Najthefer Popov was born in Serbia on March 11, 1958. So far, she has been published in more than two hundred joint, domestic and international poetry collections; published in an extremely large number of domestic and foreign magazines and literary sites.

In 2018, she published her first book "I WRITE A WOMAN" This poetic book explains the world of women, creativity, existence and love, elegance and meaning that direct and give all the colors of life.

The author, within her poetic mission, sees art as a spirit of freedom and lyrics, nature as a trace of that splendor that enables the merging of its elements with the spiritual world.

The author has received numerous high international ratings and awards; it has been translated into many foreign languages.

She is currently preparing for future publications and is working on other synergies in various cultural journals and international anthologies. She is currently engaged as the Author of the grandiose ANTHOLOGY 2021 / SERBIA with the participation of over 300 eminent poets of contemporary poetry from Serbia and around the world.

She is a member of many literary and poetic associations, an honorary member, president, ambassador of peace in the world ...

She is a great advocate of love and friendship, respect and esteem of all people without distinction, and he believes that poetry is a language that unites the whole world and does not make a difference.

She lives and works in Zrenjanin, Serbia.

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Being a poet is a gift from God and a Blessing!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Yassin Harraz

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Rouba El Youssef I am a "Lullaby"

People who cut my wings They don't know How do I fly over their heads Right now! …

People who said: ugly I don't blame them Who thaught them that They are ugly Too, …

People who don't hold their hands in the hands of fairies, How do they complete the road? …

Where is the road?

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Everyone, They were lost the road Poets first June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Readers the last Who they read their poems Lately, At night… …

Lately night, night lately… Lately night, night lately! …

People who are searching for magic in the world They don't know that they are the magic that the world is looking for: Magic, magic, magic… …

People who get -only- one like on "Facebook" They don't know how much they are special in reality Say: I am special As a story As a myth As a legend …

They don't know that I have a "Moon Cake" in a hand and a pen in the other hand

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People who stand in the face of the moon

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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It brings me farther, Out of the way of the moon Oh moon, oh moon!

Farther, farther!

Out of the way… …

When the full moon is brightest and closet to earth I will jump beyond the moon, and meet god for the first time I will hide the" seven-spot ladybird" in his mantle Say: you can stop war now! …

When the leaves fall With (He Bo) in the yellow river When leaves can be burned When poor need it Can be flying Can be dancing With two lovers

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With four angels With three pets …

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Dance, dance, dance Around a woman's waist Around a women's ankle Around a woman's neck Planets appear Planets dance Planets tell you the secret "Yue Lao" comes With a magical red thread, Where are the lovers? Where is the red thread? Where is the Chinese god "Yue Lao"?

I will marry nature Become friend with the river A family of foxes adopts me A family of deer And we run Until we get tired Until the stars fall into our hands

You are the orphan You are the poor

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We become the stars

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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As high as "Mount kailash" As sacred as" Lake Manasarovar" Like the oppressed prayers in "Sakya monastery" …

Like the roses prayed over the lips of a beautiful woman …

When the roses pray, it rains. …

When it rains, Men fall on a woman's breast In order to drink sky milk Milk white, In order to become the sky! …

The sky is for us You And me Grandmothers who are preparing (Nuomici)

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In china In "Guangdong" In "Hong Kong" June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Not for planes, cannons and tanks Not for guns!

There, In Hong Kong Give me your hands You Give me And you And you And you "Mao Zedong"! …

You The rebels who run to death without wings One wing You The men who run to a strange woman without knowing the mathematical equations about her body …

Universe is a mathematical equation written by god before he is going I will not leave

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A woman body is a universal equation

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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I will stay And write for those who say: don't write!

You can't I can Fa Hai" guards me" No evil spirits No evil No white snake No black snake. …

Just me, The sound of wolves in the mountains The sound of my lover over my head Like a lullaby…

I am a lullaby that when you repeat it more than three time It will charm you

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Be careful.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Boat Art Sally Elzeiny

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Rouba El Youssef: BS degree in communication Arts-Radio TV, LIU …

An author in the common short story book published by (Dar-The Creative Hub ‫ (دار المج ّمع اإلبداعي‬- Under the title: I live in The Southern Suburbs of Beirut.

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I have a participation in "The Anthology of Mediterranean poets in Italian", and another participation in the "Prose Poem 2" book which was published in "Cairo". Also, I have several literary participations in several websites and magazines. Now, I am working on my own poetry book.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Marko Stanojevich POETRY IS VICE I‟ll find peace only with a strange soul, I‟m not existing without verse, Poetry is a vice And I, I don‟t want a cure

I‟ll die living for her!

The poem would be my execution house I‟ll kill myself with strophe, I‟ll lay beside the paper, Words will leak through my lips Like blood.

And the last drop will say how enchanted I am.

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BLUE RAIN A poem was crying On the table of pain, on the paper – June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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To the confessing list of sins

Solitude embraced thoughts And kissed them with cold darkness.

Silence blew as a wind, A melancholy was born – Feelings in the vacuum That long, and they long As the imprisoned Prometheus

I was sailing through the unknown time Staring in the clock that stopped ticking I walked backwards like remembrance Looking for the moment of myself And I found the glowing ember of sadness burning as a flame

And the poem was crying

The blue rain was falling down …

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The tired words were flowing through the paper,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

THE CRY OF MELANCHOLY A withered morning spreads with darkness The air stumbles every breathe Feelings pluck soul like nettles Silent tears in the eyes …

I am skating on the ice of the bean‟s shadows In vanishing

I‟m going through the thought As a lost passenger Leaving trace of senselessness

I run after myself by steps of hope By desires speckled of pain Attempting to catch the leaf of freedom While the grey cloud lightens the path Leading me to dead end.

And by the sound of silence that deafens

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Flooded by river of restlessness

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Like a withered flower, The past will remain of my bean The past that smells…

TEARS IN THE WIND Tears are boiling pain of the soul On the sun of the sadness that burns.

Fire that is not a water, Undraining river And flame in the human.

Smelted lead and the steel of the feelings That are heavier from the beginning of forgetfulness, And more heavier of the wings of the frozen bird

The content of the incomprehensive sediment That presentments me like a drop Although I am beginning of the vanishing

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More fatal then dying And more captured then time.

We‟re calling forever.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

All these words would be verses If the wind is not blowing inside me That makes a wave of the water

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And of the fire much bigger flame.

Marko Stanojevich is a young Serbian poet born on 1992 in Negotin, Serbia. His first poetry book “On the wind of love and sorrow” was published in 2016, and his second poetry book “The Dawn of the Melancholy” on 2017. He lives and works in Belgrade.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Moaen Shalabia The departure of the spirit I saw you painting the dream Between the fire and the night, And moons above the night, And grief behind the spirit, And the colour of grief likes the twilight.

I saw you carrying the sea in your eyes expatriate, And plates of faith and disbelief, I asked the sea if it know its carrier, The sea replies waves of tiredness.

I saw you silent dumping the grief on your lips, You don‟t ask now about my drowning?

You said: "yes", Why the river doesn't flow as we like,

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We don‟t want to pass the love like leaves.

I saw you hugging the thorn, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

And the thorn is wounding you Then I said: enough Of the thorn's wounds and anxiety

You are incessantly behind my grief and in it Can you stand the grief of departure?

I‟m exhausted with grief, I don‟t know Whether the spirit leaving my body Will obliterate this grief.

Vision I assumed my friend That reading poetry Could be an amazement or a fancy or a whisper of fire And I assumed my gorgeous That writing poetry Could be a thought or a vigor or a drive

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And I assumed my love That femininity Could be smoothness of touch or trembling astonishment June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

And I assumed my princess That your savage embrace Could be sin itself or a dose of amber And I assumed that sadness my precious Is a country like all the mirrors and all the seas?

And I assumed my murderer, that death is wrapped In all the aspects of coming of age, and it could fill the void And I assumed that passion my inspirer, is a language That comes swiftly without waiting And I assumed that dreaming my mistress Is an old obsession that never stops spinning?

And that the soul and that the body my captivator Is a flute in the tenderness of the day.

However, I have never assumed That you leaving forever Would terminate the place and end the time?

And that my ascension into my abyss Would be for love

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Even if it was suicide.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

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Boat Art Waleed Qanoosh

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Night and wine and woman My wooden home has two windows opened to their limits and shadow of a woman inflaming the distance I look upon the sea on the wake of the evening and upon a glass of wine stirring the echoes.

My wooden home has the smell of dew and the shape of a soul in the palm of a blur in our wooden home there is an aged jar and a thirsty butterfly haunting me into the futility of speech.

It is you. and for a while I've been looking in you for my death here you are, and this taste is monstrous

and inflaming in me my sails.

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exploding in me a volcano

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Here you are and in your eyes a storm of drunkenness oh, you hug and burn and fill and spill me wine over my crematorium so, don't ever change and be oh a woman destroying all my kingdom and embrace me as a bottle that danced on the belt of a storm thus, the flame of its wine burns me into poetry for an ultimate heat and a Kama Sutra glass

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cover all my questions.!!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Moaen Shalabia, Born on 14 October 1958 in Maghar town - In the Galilee region. Palestinian poet. Finished his studies in Haifa University.

Poet and prose writer, his writing career began in 1973, he published his poems in national local newspapers and in Arabic papers abroad.

He published six poetry books and three prose.His first-born was the first book of poetry in 1989. He participated in many local and international festivals. He was awarded by the "Arab intellectual's forum" – Jerusalem Al-Quds).Besides, he has received many appreciations certificates a member in the union of Arab writers and the movement of world poets (Poetas del mundo) and Member of Mahmoud Darwish Foundation for Creativity. His literary production was discussed and criticized in universities and in many sessions in homeland and abroad.

Some of my poems were translated into many languages, like French, Turkish, English, Romanian, Polish, Macedonian, Italian, Hebrew, Bosnian, Albanian, Croatian, and Bahasa Malaysia language.

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His collection of poems was included in the national and international anthologies.He won the prize of the pest poetry at the international poetry festival / Tetova – Macedonia. Albania.The Palestinian education ministry awarded him for his blessed efforts in enriching the national education and for his loyalty to the Palestinian issue and the Principles of justice and freedom.He recently won the prize of the "Arab Writers Union" for poetry.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Tarek Abd El-Aziz Ammar Travelers in halted Trains

Travelers of night trains ..

Drink coffee out of the sea lung ..

Carry their hymens to another sky ..

While my punctured memory, that will never suffice them all ..

Is meowing like a cat sticking to a ruined wall ..

An I am full of din Travelers of night trains ..

Know each other with their wounds With their shaking souls With their dried orbs With their hearts torn by the shrieks of cars passing through muddy patches of asphalt Travelers of night trains ..

Draw the scent of things over cold bricks of stations decorated with yellow sodium

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They perfectly fit for the carriages' darkness And they don't leave the space ..

They sneak into the moaning of "Fairouz" .. into the shaky voice of "Mustafa Ismail" .. into the whispers of "Cavafy" to Alexandria ..

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

They perfectly hide from the eyes of passers So that no eye can see them They smoke the yellow and green train traffic lights Then .. quietly ..

They go away .. to the carriages full of creaking winds They are frozen by station platforms .. and never get bord of leaving Travelers of night trains ..

Occupy the final space of insurgent cold of December .. of hot July ..

Of the shaking glass of broken windows ..

Travelers of night trains ..

Quietly pass my blood .. but I don't give them a leaving visa .. nor letting them stay!!

Hollowness Nameless ..

Faceless ..

Odorless ..

You set over your soul's peak

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And you cry!!

Eyeless ..

You stair into the suffocating horizon June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Without tanned skin You impose the touch of air over yourself Without specific answers ..

Without bitterness Without taste of coffee Without smell of smoke ..

You restore your punctured memory Out of the bottom of an old sea ..

And you cry!!

Without her ..

You cry ..

And then you keep crying in eternal silence !!

Dismounting

They are premature .. just like you They, all, neither leave nor come ..

They, all, live under the skin

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Between bone and bone marrow They fear the power of cloves .. the cold of coffee .. and the heaviness of smoke ..

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

They, with the same faces that never recognize ..

Break up as fire inside your soul .. and you break up alone .. like a storm of desolate cold ..

Call me as you wish ..

Names no longer hold me ..

No language over the waves can contain me I am the swallowing whale .. and I am the Regurgitated to the open I am the smashed ditties .. the breaking axe and the hand holding the axe ..

I am the fire grooves .. the two toddles and the milting brass I am the last train .. so get on bord if you wish Or either, say farewell to what was left of your regression in light And say farewell and inflame

I think this is time for dismounting The insurgent ways don't want to be demolished ..

Light holes in the sleepy houses' louvers don't want to fade The sun's eye is red and don't look for black glasses to occult

I think this is time for dismounting And I think .. you are coming with me ..

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Even pencils, are becoming more fragile than bearing the sharpener

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Tarek Abd El-Aziz Ammar - An Egyptian poet, critic and playwright.

Born in Alexandria in 1970. He issued three collections: "A Street ..

Glowing" (private publishing) - "Skys for a Sunken Sea" (The General Organization for Cultural Palaces) - "Master of Night" (The General Organization of Books)

Boat Art Eman Ezzat June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Antonis Filippeos Sanctuary There are secrets that no one knows, dark oceans in the deepest depths of the mind that you have not discovered so far.

It is the breaths that seek union with the divine, two bodies, one idea, infinite light of love.

Sparkles of magic sensing the desire to break silences, to break chains, to sail into the sacred sanctum of the soul until the resonance of redemption is revealed, with a clear destiny to listen to small and great truths in your deep, troubled waters

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until they arise to the touch of the sun parts of the sea that flood the whole being.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

If the eyes are born again, if silences are broken, if secrets are revealed, and hurricanes are hushed, then hearts will beat loudly like thunder, fears will be tamed like pitch black wild horses!

Untold Words What I didn't get to say is still waiting for you hermetically sealed, sealed by my longing that maybe they will see the light, refuse the silence

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that had condemned them for years and become encouraged prepared to be led to you, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

to caress the lips, to thrust through, to hide nothing, to surrender, to endure.

What will become of them?

No one knows... ...you might drive them away, maybe you'll mock them.

Keep them inside you forever: That's what I'd like.

And if you throw them away, don't...

Give them back to me, They're mine.

I'll pick them up even if I'm alone.

Like I've been doing all this time,

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I'll love you in my solitude...

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

DEPLETED LIGHT Everything that torments me spreads out like shadows all around me twisting and turning in my mind.

Sometimes like distant noises and sometimes like enchanting calls reminding me not to forget the depths in which I was lost, when I wanted to hide from everything that I was longing for because I didn't have the courage to forget.

I kept on going like a wild white horse, which is running away, and keeps on running... in virgin forests, secret, where my white mane tore the air,

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creating a song so distant yet so familiar, like the pieces that broke, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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like the pieces of light waiting for a fire, a powerful flame , furiously fiery

Antonis Filippeos was born in Athens in 1980, studied Law in Italy at the University of Rome and International and European Relations in Athens and obtained a degree in Italian Language and Literature at the University of Athens in 2012. His first poetry collection "ANIMUS NUDUS" published by KAKTOS received auspicious reviews and was internationally acclaimed. The continuity of his work is reflected in his second new poetry collection entitled "SILENTIUM" recently published by the same publishers, three of his poems in the collection have already been awarded in competitions. Many of his poems are accompanied by music and have been translated into English, Italian and Russian. His poetic creations have also been included in several anthologies, historical literary magazines and encyclopedias of Arts and Letters.

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to bring them back together again.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Bilal Al Masri It’s not me Nihility has no shadow that I follow it Your voice which amazes me I do not hear it The one who is standing between your hands If all the trees flowered If all the women delayed their autumn

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Your favors would not be of any benefit to him Your voice that worries me I do not hear I am not the mount to send it back to you Nor am I the abyss to pass me by Without falling Inflict me so I may know your heart in my time The one who stands there is a mirage The one who sits here is not me I do not know where I am present or absent

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Top of Form Bottom of Form (Translated by Munir Mezyed)

Soft music…extreme delight The angels are dangling Heaven is waves The sea is at the top Tears fixate on tremendous joy Thus they pour down

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Word is a high wall I ascend to the meaning with all my senses Heaven is in our small chamber The bed is bed suffocating I open the goblets of tales Pour the sun in your cup Your small breast enters the lungs Overlooking my heart For a moment every thing stops evolving I row with the two thighs Insert my heart into your clothes I hear your voice a wolf attacking me Reside…Reside!

My years are grass for the horses of dreams June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

My heart is bread and my blood your outpouring heart I hear your voice a wolf Reside…Reside!

Flaming fire of nostalgia Wind passed by the lake of meaning Thus the mirrors of visions quacked I see you in everything Top of Form

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Bottom of Form

Bilal Al-Masry is a Lebanese poet and playwright, born in 1974. His in Poetry: The Atm of Mirrors, published by Dar Al-Konouz Al-Adabi in Beirut 2004 Jasmine rose like bullets issued by Dar El Ghawoun Beirut 2012 As light as oil, issued by the Beirut Publications Company in 2014 Your names are many and our bread is little issued by Dar Al-Watan Today, Algeria, in 2020 Among his theatrical works are "Tooret so I will not disappear," "A trip to Mars" "The boats", the screaming of the corpse winner of the prize for the best theatrical text within the activities of the Sidi Kassem International Festival in Morocco. Of his fictional works, the walls are striking my shadow. Among his fictional works: The Walls Exposed to My Shadow, published by the Cairo Hallways Foundation, 2013 He participated in many international evenings and festivals in Lebanon and abroad.

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Munira Mesbah A Pen Bows Since the wakeful world hesitated in my glitter, I sailed on the shards of memory And the remains of time, Riding whatever the sadness of the land Had been pouring into inns.

But then, for me to disintegrate And for the sleeplessness to live on, To which storms of longing Does my pen yield?

I depart into my solitude And bury my meaning, Making the flowers of Being Long for me; As do my ever-distant hands,

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On an everlasting yearning.

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Which bestow the branch of time

In the twilight of the vision, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

I was likened to a lady Of thorny color and circular duration; She owns multiple pains And experiences the woman's disappointment As Being and non-Being commingle

I never desired half the night when she drew near, But since she departed I have been longing for sleeplessness.

Lofty heights pluck me out from the clouds of foam, And hang me on the hips of the night When it craves pearls; Beyond the exile of nightingales, Beyond the siege of fires

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And the screeching of extinction.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Transfigurations of the fleeting Moment ‫ مه ديوان تجلياث ماست البرهت‬،‫عناق اللؤلؤة‬

Lord of the water, You lead time from the flower to the sun Desire shatters its green petals And turns them red, As they bloom on the lips of the kingdom

I am a sea, A letter carved out of weary awakening.

My body bestows roses And my wound reveals a dawn.

Time shares my dreams and my tune.

Together we drink the cup of dream, Together we go

And in us shines the vision.

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And dance

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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You shake the foundations of my days, Lord of the gray time.

I approach you as a wine jar Like the wind I enter your features And like the raining dawn I enter your voice.

Lord of the vast time, I asked my hand: Does the pearl explore all the promises of its blood?

Does the scent of the symbol Lead the child to the spike of glee?

Will the universal joy reach the last star?

I call you….

I am a letter looking for a mouth, A voice in search of light.

And I ask: Can the two meet?

I bound your thunder with love

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And we dashed toward color.

Toward the rising fire We broke the universe over two strings.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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We raced among skies of abandoned books, Rode the shoulders of the waves, And with their water We chiseled our visions.

As we explored the depth of the primeval language, The clouds flowed and the pearl was made visible.

The night dust lifted, Baring the first stirs of the morning.

Fire of the river, Remove the flowing letter From my dusk, And be my radiance to the words To which the vision has been denied.

Water,

Branch of the water, You are my heart.

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Can you sow my dreaming heart within your core?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The light scatters me Among DANAT (wine jars?), O master of this beautiful time.

Tyrant )Translated by Saadi Simawe and Ellen Dore' Watson from Arabic(

Tyrant When I met him…

I watched as a little boy Emerged from one of my poems And shook my hand.

The little boy who hides in my body And, when evening comes Why then? Any evening, of any day Who leans my heavy head against the wall

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And resumes the tyranny of speech

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Munira Mesbah: Poet. Born in: Beirut – Lebanon. Hold a BA in Philosophy from Beirut Arab University . Holds a Bachelor of Media from Kuwait University.

In Beirut worked in the field of education. In Kuwait, worked in the field of education, then moved to work in the Kuwaiti press in 1980 and taught the cultural section of the Kuwaiti daily newspaper "Al-Rai AlAam" until 1990. Her immigration to America is the second after her emigration to Kuwait. Pursued her higher education in the United States of America and worked in academic research. Assistant Professor of Arabic at the University of Chicago, in the Department of Near Eastern Studies, and taught Arabic at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Chicago from 1998 to 2010.

· An invitation from the House of Poetry in Tunis to revive an evening of poetry on 2004 and another at the "Gabi's" Festival August, 2015

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Cultural events: Participated in many festivals, poetry evenings, and symposia in the Arab world and in America. · Poetry evening at the "Saad Zaghloul" Cultural center in Cairo on January 2009. Attended "Al-Sawy Culture Wheel", a lyrical poetry evening entitled Breath of Nostalgia, February 2009 Journalists Syndicate seminar in Cairo on August 2007. Atelier Cairo Seminar August 2007. Arab cultural Festival in Milwaukee, Wisconsin December 2006. Seminar of the Arab American Women Union (AAWA) The achievements of Arab women in light of recent scientific developments) Conference annual January 2004 Chicago - Illinois -. Symposium "Roots" of the Cultural Foundation, the meeting Constituent Assembly, November 2005.

Participated in a seminar (Women, History & Creativity) Cadi Ayad University in Marrakech, Morocco 2005

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Published Poetry collections: "Lady of the Buds", The Arab Institute, Beirut, 1988.

"Hemoglobin Dew"," Dar Azminah", Amman,Jordan, 1995.

Several poems were translated into English, and published in the literary periodical issued by the British Royal College "King College " in London in 1998. " Tagaleyat Masat Alborha", Sharqiyat House, Cairo,1999.

"A Woman in Solitude of Winds", the Arab Institute, Beirut, 2005.

"I Breathe You in Yearning", The Arab Institute for Studies and Publishing, Beirut 2009.

"As a lover, Gathering His Wings", Dar Azminah, Amman, Jordan, 2018.

Poems published in the "Modern Poetry Movement" periodical, Mexico City, Mexico 2020.

Published studies and Essays: "From the space of dreams to the horizon of possibility", The Arab Institute for Studies and Publishing Beirut, 2000.

"Harbors - A Journey in the Language of Existence and Its Thought", the Arab Institute, Beirut, 2002.

"The Impact of Words - Palestinian Candles and Other Studies", The Arab Institute for research and publishing Beirut, 2008.

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"Dialogues and Enlightenment - A half century of politics, thoughts, literature, and Art", the Arab Institute, Beirut, 2004.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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"Weaving of Time and Space- Studies in International Literature", " Dar Al Ain, Cairo, 2011.

"When art has spirit- Studies in artistic creativity", for "Dar Al Ain" Cairo, Egypt, 2016.

Jabra Ibrahim Jabra, a renowned writer, author, poet, and novelist in the Arab World said about her writings: " I am amazed by the poems of Munira Mesbah; this poet who is always heading with her pain towards eyes in which the earth's sun shines, which she loves, and lives with her explosive stones and the trees These poems amaze me with their childhood and chaos, as well as their anger and noise emanating from the basements of pain and longing for the desert to bloom, and the bread and olives spread on the ground, and the iniquity of time etched in faces and bodies disappears.

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The poetess of Munira Mesbah is gathering in all direction, and if all the trends finally meet in one focus that attracts and triggers her, it is love, so love is the ever-cosmic pulse in the presence of this lover of the homeland, and she wants to "spread between the arteries of that earth," as the roots that reject death. Her poems come to us dark and intense as burning forests leaving behind an everlasting effect."

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Nina Lys Affane Remember

I arrive at the castle Where the dark secret nestles Nothing of the joy of a thatched cottage Continuing my I cross the deserted courtyards And I stop for a moment Amazed at looking at the old walls Moldy or hang ivy the broken windows of the building Strange and lonely The leaves were dotted The threshold of the iron door entrances I entered the castle I turned on all the lights I lit the stone walls

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I crisscrossed like a horsewoman In search of the enigma and the mystery I found a treasure that belonged June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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To warriors ..

By living this atmosphere I plunged into ancient times Like a dreamy dreamer By a river Swimming in astonished water Unique and unique

Suddenly! ...

A witch appears I fought evil Void.

He regressed back With boldness I gave you the crown You became like yesterday Various sacrifices were needed I can't help it .. the law is the law

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I risk punishment The danger is immense I risk accomplishing June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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My last prayer I came to your rescue Like a torch lightning In the dream I heard Your screams your screams Reaching me from hell I am a privateer of the castle And of his belonging his proud homeland Come with me Let's quickly desert this castle ... I don't admit leaving you behind in this center earth sickness You are wild Brazil I have shown you my devotion Copy

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Nina lys AFFANE (All rights reserved)

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Mona Ghareeb

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Affections for the tomorrows When illness knocks on the door, you have to know how to find happiness illness, hard test that brings us back to basics Being sick is a sign that reminds us that nothing is forever Invite in oneself hope and hope so that the pain so intense ceases Illness teaches us that living in good health is a wonder Know how to appreciate the present time and love yours at all times Only solidarity and Faith in God Faith in Love can save us and heal ...

Illness certainly carries a lesson A lesson in life that will transform us into great Courage and persistence are the best of doctors and medicines that do good heal and regain the good health of humanity This pandemic, a test, an intense fight to fight and we will win by arming ourselves with solidarity!

We must love to live and live to love Courage, I think of you sick every moment, every moment!

my solidarity with all of humanity Nina lys Affane (Tous droits réservés)

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Certainly, soon we will celebrate together the happiness and the flowers of a new Spring ...

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Nina Lys AFFANE French teacher, writer-poet and correspondent in the written press, has published several books and a very large number of press articles in newspapers, (in socio-economic, scientific and cultural), she carried the voice of the Algerian Francophonie and took part in cultural festivities and literary / poetic conferences in Algeria and around the world, where it was awarded, distinguished and honored. writing represents for Nina Lys Affane, a way of freedom to shape and rebuild, a world of love of peace and tolerance.

His texts are translated into several languages as well, We find his books in the biggest universities and libraries around the world (BNA Paris) France), Algerian, USA: Illinois university, Prinston university, New Jersey university, Beirut university, in Morocco , in Tunisia, Turkey ...

Books by Nina Lys Affane: 1- “In talks with love” 2011: 140 pages, art edition (the rent) the money from all the books sold paid and donated by the poet to the cancer patient, 2- “at the edge of time” ANEP edition (Algeria) 135 pages, (dedicated sale at the Paris Book Fair in 2016 and 2017) 3- 137 pages “confession”, published in 2017 by Dar moulaf Beyrouth (Lebanon), book sale, in Beirut, Paris, Algiers book sale and book rent paid for the association of hereditary anemia patients (2019) 4- “crash of the senses” 2018, words color edition, Montreal (Canada) 100pages

6-Chosen from among 50 poets for an anthology of female creation published in Bulgaria for the capital of European culture) Plovdiv 2019

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5- “Havre des sens 2018” book edited in collaboration with writers from around the world (in Montreal) Canada

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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7-participation with several texts in a book by North African Mediterranean writers, under the theme “migration” book published and distributed in Canada, 8-Also, Nina lys AFFANE, participated with poems, in several anthologies of poet writers (sometimes in solidarity with the sick) published: in Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia, Lebanon, Egypt, Turkey, Romania, France, Portugal, Canada...

And requested for anthologies that will appear in 2020 (Anthology: world female poetry Spain, peace and world poets in Mexico )

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Take part in anthologie (word poète)in Serbie .2021

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The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Jasna Šamić The Old Bridge Before being white, it was grey Before being solid, it was like a wave Before being a rainbow, it was an undulating path between two fortresses And seventeen houses where lived A bachelor and the Mostari

The Sultan offered to the city a bridge A rainbow The French said: “It‟s more proud than the Arc de Triomphe” The Italian: “It‟s more solid than the Rialto” The Turk: “It‟s higher than a minaret” And the Arab said: “It is a white camel”

The poet wrote: This is a swan with the neck bent

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A seagull with outspread wings A snowy mountain On the river June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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For centuries gulls land On the back of the camel, color of the snow, For centuries gulls flow From the back of the camel into Narenta Flowing under the white camel Quiet and voracious Color of jade

When the barbarians attacked it The rainbow became a broken mirror The camel's back - a wrecked ship The gooseneck - icy torch The wings of seagulls - two severed hands Between the two banks: A wound

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(*The Old Bridge (Stari most) in Mostar is inscribed in the UNESCO list of the protected monuments)

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Jasna Šamiš (1949) is an acclaimed and awardwinning Bosnian and French writer, author of books (poetry, novels, short stories, essays, research work, theater plays) written both in the French and Bosnian language. In 1984, she obtained her PhD on Sufism and History at the Sorbonne.

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Her literary works have been published in various renowned Yugoslavian and French magazines and won prestigious literary awards. She is a member of The Asian Society (Sociétéasiatique), Paris, from 1984, Member of the Union of Writers of Bosnia, from 1974, Member of the international PEN Club, Bosnia and Herzegovina, from 2006, Member of the Union of Writers of France, from 1996, member of the international PEN Club of France. She lives in Paris.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Pambos Kouzalis Penelope Forty years now I carry a stone My husband had never wanted to father her He left me, went off one night and married the darkness For forty days he was the wind, thick blowing out my kerosene lamps reducing me to worthlessness blind to weave the years But then the yarn ran out The skeins were bare and barren and never again did he appear before me With the sting of my needle without a thread I stitch my grieving wedding dress, as tapers melt I try it on, the pins prick me and fall The folds bemoan The body eclipses

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My longings are the bridesmaids My veil gets caught against a nail on the wall Tonight my bosom smells like lavender June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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He‟d always liked it, does he remember?

I put some in his pocket secretly How else would he recall my scent there in the nether world? Lupus

Lupus After the sun sets I go feral A wolf, I roam the house enclosed Outside in the yard jackals invite me to walk with them Long howls I howl to exhaustion Fair night I whisper lest they hear me

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And then asleep I fall

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Mud A house of mud Yes, mud Melt down in the rain, my rain Remolded into a house again As I am dressed eye-length in clay As I become my house As I return to earth With the ants and the immigr ants With them inside labyrinths I am cast adrift and drowned Until the next rain comes My darling rain To swamp all that‟s left unsaid To have unripe drops make it to the Light For me to knead afresh

(3 poems by Pambos Kouzalis

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Translation: Despina Pirketti)

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Pambos Kouzalis was born in Nicosia, Cyprus. He studied Archaeology/History of Art at Athens University. He works as a philologist in Secondary Education. He wrote song lyrics for theatrical productions and televised series. His poems have been published in various literary reviews in Cyprus and abroad. He has published three collections of poems. He is the director of Parakentro cultural centre in Lemithou, Cyprus.

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Boat Art Omar Elfayumi

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Safaa Al-Bialy Alike!

Shyness that blushes us with its ruby colors ..

Makes us perplexed When it starts to count our backs' vertebrae And decodes our DNA With its tender lips And its cruel intimacy Leaving its traces on bodies burdened with humanitarian momentum That didn't have its chance to reproduce After suffering intrigues for several times It decided To reframe its feeling on a CD And thrusts, like others ..

Stained ..

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With life!

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Courage!

Open your e-mail ..

My friend Without any deliberate courage ..

You will find me ..

Totally naked ..

Hanging with my one-hand To the tip of a wave ..

Under my heavy body.

Now I understand your persistence ..

To make me follow a strict diet Don't be cruel you too ..

And never get angry ..

I will turn into laces with all your favorite purple shades Never get angry ..

I will do medical examinations for my kidneys And I will hang to the tails of civilizations

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I will step on all histories that will fade out when touched And turn into piles of carbon dioxide ..

And other wastes ..

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Never get angry ..

Just ..

Cry for losing me!

Bonne Nuit (To Rambrant and its immortal Masterpiece " Les sept disciples") In vain ..

You became even ruder and crueler The tears you are shedding after your national disasters Recently dried without burning Alone ..

You are looking for an answer to the question: Who am I? On the autopsy table My body is still warm And you ..

Sent me through the shaft of history With massive roughness

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Showing off, your scalpel is pointing Towards my left arm ligaments That became flappy June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Oh, Rambrant!

Not befitting for you to use cruelty like that Your fine finger ..

Will declare their denial for this way They will moan regularly for my virtual pain Oh, Rambrant!

A mysterious question ..

I am A creature ..

That is impossible to reorganize ..

I am ..

So, be soft ..

And let light pervades me ..

Oh, Rambrant!

Give me more intimacy ..

Without any intruding troopers ..

Without any women hanging over pegs ..

Behind your back

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Without any feigned existence And legs That have nothing but their barbaric tempo ..

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Your seven disciples ..

Are distraught By the fest that still pumps its fresh blood ..

And very spicy!

Oh, Rambrant I give you an extraordinary chance To steal Gogol's coat That I entreasured after he signed on the waist of an empty perfume bottle Heading to Tigris ..

To have your fair share of crying Violently ..

And to torture me To drink a cup of coffee without sugar And to torture me To allow me Over the autopsy table ..

My hanging question My eternal question

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Who am I? Oh, Rambrant You little thief June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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.. you manipulator You robbed me ..

And cried Let me out ..

Let me slough off with a minimal miracle of interpretation And pain!

Oh, Rambrant You loan shark You who invented me precisely Why couldn't you unfold my soul?

Oh, Rambrant Bonne Nuit I'm like you ..

Safaa Al-Bialy . Egyptian poet and playwright. born in Daquahlia Egypt . She had several issues including: My little World (for children Dar Al-Safa - Dubai - UAE 2021) - "What the Priity Girl Discovered (General Organization of Cultural Palaces 1995) - Water Grooves (General Organization of Books 2004) - A Tango for a Lonely Woman (General Organization of Books 2014). under publishing : A virtual Journey of an Angle.

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A victim of expectation!

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Boat Art Eman Ezzat

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Youssef Lazrak Our Grand Dream (Translated by: Nizar Sartawi) Charming souls sharing a dream wide open to dawn and maps of life.

Inspired hearts overflowing with love and madness and the placentas of spring

Thus have the white faces begun sharing the flowers they‟ve been waiting for And had faith in the glamour of features and the flames of dawn on the forehead of poetry and the bosom of glowing gardens in company

and penetrate the continents of walls

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so the distant boughs be welded together

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and get through with their confident feet towards the tree sitting all alone verdant and weary with solitude and bleeding

O scattered birds on our footbaths Draw a transparent sky with your bright wings for brooks to be born in our eyes Wave and sing poems of chirping blue O distaaaaaaaaant voice dwelling in the organs of the universe Sip the water of our extended influence towards more glamorous seasons

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and bless our flaming shadows until the alphabet smiles O rains hidden June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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between our fingers Come closer grant us our seas paths of aspiration and glory

The Poet’s Friendships (Translated by : Kamal alaoui)

The Sea A wise man who doesn‟t talk much Absorbs my night poems And embraces my wet steps in a joyous language.

The Wind A woman of dream and fire Doesn‟t like make up kits And is satisfied with the morning light and the colours of the breeze Whenever I pass by her, The years of my coming life

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Crash in front of me.

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Boat Art Zakareyya Al Qadhi June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Youssef El Azrak is a Moroccan poet, comedian and painter, born in Essaouira. He‟s a teacher and an artistic supervisor. President of the cultural association (Moubadarat/INITIATIVES), member of the World Poets Movement. Member of JOUSSOUR (BRIDGES), an international organization for Arts and Culture. He published the following poetry books: (The Distance Shadows 2004) , One Sky Is Not Enough 2011, Hymn Of The Coasts – Paris, France 2014, a collection of poems in French, translated and presented by Nasreddine Bouchkif, Wish Erasure 2016, ……………………………………………, Keep In A Cool Place 2020.

Samples of his texts were translated into French and English and were included in an anthology of Moroccan poetry in French. He publishes in several magazines and cultural sites : Al Qods Al Arabi, Majallat Dubai Athaqafia, Al Majalla Al Arabia, Assafir Alloubnania, Majallat Majarra, Kika, Thaqafat, Majallat athaqafa Al Maghribia He held several Art exhibitions in Morocco and abroad.

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He supervised many theatre workshops and wrote and directed some plays.

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Nawar al – Shater A Wild Wish The wishes that miss you Flirt with me And poke at my memory The places, That documented our love!

Come here For us to melt The darkness of absence For us to trace The signs of our hiding Time after time Pass by my heart And live in my ribs So that the sound of a hug Reverbates

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In the land of stability Give me One last moment of passion June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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That shakes my nostalgia In the cradle of madness I want to write a poem For a dead poet That no one knows

Titles from Memories “A Hundred Years of Solitude” Will not be enough to forget you I know that “I Loved You More Than I Should” And that you were not “A Transient Bed” In the dark of my loneliness And that the silly love Ate my brains So I went on taking my pain in doses

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“Under the Lime Tree” “The Forty Rules of Love” Take over me June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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So I free myself of your love And I fly away in the sky Like “Mem and Zin” We are the poets “Little Women” Nothing grows inside us other than dreams We live the details of “The Miserables” Of love, we have the disappointments And the sad poems “Forgetfulness” is “The Way” And the heart Between “The Sail and the Storm” Fluctuate In “War and Peace” My heart and yours toss “The Tale of Two Cities” Drowning in despair You don‟t see my soul

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But you are all that it sees “To Kill a Mockingbird” Like my love for you is June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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“Crime and Punishment” Because I loved you sincerely in times of deception Love is an “Unbearable Lightness of Being” And “Under the Rain” A romance of past time “The Mirage” is you When you fulfill your promises In the palace of love I waited for you You are “The Memory of the Body” And the “Doorway to the Sun” For the shaking nights in travel And “The Hummingbird's Prayer” When the flute stops “Something of Fear” Lives in me when you disappear “We Are All Thieves, My Dear” So let me steal you in a moment of passion

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On the “Wandering Wings”, I carry you “Clamor of the Lake” brings us together June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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“A Song of Ice and Fire” Plays us on “Buttercreams” In the “Cities of Salt” The crumbs of our story “My Share of the Horizon” Is your eyes “Gone with the Wind” Our yesterday Where are we now “In the Whirl”?

“Eager for You” As I live

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My songs beat through you

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The Curves of Nostalgia Damascus, The lady of cities; The face of jasmine, In the curves of the heart.

The tears drop In a memory; That tears exhausted, And that longing crucified In the fields of dream.

Will we meet..? “ “ “ The heart asks..!

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…

About the scent of the morning About Fairouz‟s coffee June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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And the chaos of nostalgia

The rain answers:

In the sky of ribs A song; Awaits The laughing sunrise So it hums happiness In the cradle of the sun So it erases The groans of exile So the spring is reborn From the womb of The Damascene winter Hugged A white fairy

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In love

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The Starfish I was still a child Who used to embrace the joy While in her heart the light unfolds And the winds Race with her laugh She used to play hideaway With her winged shadow She whispered to the night Her strange wishes too As to become a cloud From which a melody would fall Like rain On the symphony Of the Swan Lake She would dance with the rain Like a star

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Whose soul Was abandoned by the sky And collided with the surface of pain June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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And to not let her burn The waters took her in the arms And salt washed her So to become A starfish --------------------------Delirium of a female whose childhood details wear still Her heart and soul (Poems translated by

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Sohaila Al Shorbagy, Manar al Shorbagy, Alal Al Ferry )

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Nawar Ahmad al-Shater. Syrian writer and poet. Born in Damascus.

Bachelor of science in biology from Damascus University, concentration in microbiology. Biology teacher. Editor in “Arab Pens” Magazine.Children literature writer at the Moroccan “Waz” Magazine for kids, issued by Waz Institute for culture and sustainable development in Arabic, French, and Amaziegh. Honorary member at “Fanani” Organization in The Balkans. Editor at “The Letter” academic and literary journal, issued by The Letter Institue for Literary Studies at Stardford University. Ambassador in Saudi Arabia at the Indian Cultural House. International representative at the International Center for Pyramid Studies in Egypt. International Peace Ambassador at the Coniba and Etmot Institute in Brazil. Member in Media and Publishing Committee for Peace, London. Co-writer of: - Women‟s Noun of Troy - The Ontology of Expressive Narration - Arab Creators...A Thousand Pens - The Last Call - The Encyclopedia of Arab Poets - Blue Anxiety

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- The Arab Now Published Works: Cooing of a Heart, Shining Planet, Did My Poetry Reach You. Holds:Honorary doctorate from the International Peace Academy, Lebanon. Honorary doctorate in Literature from the Conbia and Etmot Institute and the International Council in Brazil. Diploma in Family Counseling from Al-Faqi Organization. Diploma in Neurological Programming from Al-Faqi Organization. Certificates from various literature organizations.

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Boat Art Abd Elwahab June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Nina Alexi Enchantress of the Seas My homeland the Mediterranean Sea shimmering beams of the glorious sun as a wreath I wear on my wavy black hair.

When beastly destructive titanic waves touching the skies and boats shiver like butterflies in my arms I carry and the terror

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in people‟s eyes, I see.

Thunderous whispers June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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in the moonless sky imploring me to keep them safe not let them die.

We must live free in alliance with the Universe and its dynamic energy.

Letting the grief and tears of humanity be washed away in the mysterious depths of the οcean‟s bed hearts be blessed with love and harmony.

The Mediterranean Queen of the Seas

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standing proud in history with magnificent beauty and its entities.

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Enchanting dolphins carrying messages of hope and peace!

Travelers charmed by imposing rocks picturesque ports in the islands of Greece, Alexandria, Napoli, Marseille and Tunis!

Nature‟s stunning architecture iridiscent colours, intoxicating fragrances aromas, so strong ancient landascapes and the hypnotic sirens‟ song

the hot silvery breeze.

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echoing through

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Now, the sea, I wear reaching from the heart to God with a prayer for humanity to be free like dancing waves in the luminous blue waters

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of the Mediterranean Sea.

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Nina Alexi Studies: Ρerformance Arts, theater, creative writing etc. in London with a British government scholarship at Middlessex Polytechnic, WAC Interchange, Associated Guild of Dance & Drama, Chantraine School of Dance (1981-1990) and elsewhere. Instructor of theatrical education at the Laconic School. Director and teacher (European Programme concerning the Roma children as well as in a programme against social exclusion (KEK Jason). Participations in conferences as a speaker:In the Institute of Greek-Oriental and African Studies IGOAS (in collaboration with the School of Foreign Languages of the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens for Nobel Prize winner in Literature 1988, Naguib Mahfouz. In the amphitheater of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, (Athens 2004), with the Hellenic National Commission for UNESCO in honour of the poet Costis Palamas.

Lectures: in the Homeric Academy of Chios (2000), at the 14th conference on Greek-Eastern and African Studies, "Greek-Arabic Civilizations", (Athens 2014, 2017, Crete 2019 e.t.c. With the Environmental Forum (London) 1985-1995 on theater and Greek poetry. She presented the inclusion of Mycenae on the UNESCO World Heritage List in a special ceremony organized by UNESCO and other public and private intitutions. Member of the D.E.E.L.©, Inst I Kapodistrias, IGOAS, SEI, Theatre of Mankind, English National Opera, Semiology Centre on Theatre e.t.c.

Her books: “Adventure in the Forest” “Name” 2002. Theatre plays: “Resurrection of Love” “Dodoni” 2004. “Women on a Red Background”, “Dodoni” 2005. (French translation) Des Femmes sur un fond rouge, “Elikranon” 2012. Poetry collections: "Anin Ixela", “Alexandria”, 2017, “Ano throsko”, “Alexandria”, Athens, 2019. Works on Theatre Studies:"Dionysios Tavoularis and his contribution to the Egyptian Stage", Fermentations of Greek theater with Egyptian Hellenism, 1856-1946”. Graeco-arabica, vol. XII, Herodotos, 2017, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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“Greek Theatre Performances in Egypt 1864 – 1903, Main Ideological Tendencies - Aesthetic Perception” Graeco – arabica vol. XIII, Herodotos, 2021. Her poems are included, in the “Encyclopaedia of Modern Greek Literature” Hari Patsi 2017, “Contemporary Greek Poets” Papas 2020, “Greek Women Poets of the 20th Century” Zitros 2021, “Encyclopaedia of World Poets Association” 2021 e.t.c.

Participations in poetry anthologies: “The Poems of 2017” Κoinonia ton dekaton, 2018, “Conversing with N. Kazantzakis” Ostria, 2018, “Conversing with T. Livaditis” Ostria 2019, “Poems of Crisis (20082018”, Iolkos 2020, “Converisng with Sappho”, Licnos 2021 etc.

Awarded with the first prize for her poem “Pontiac Mother” Athens, 2019 e.t.c.

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Nawal Al Hawar Travel in the days Travel takes me on the lifetime train, and it goes on, through stations farther than I guessed, I have been ticketless, and I don't know at which station to get off at the dreams 'or illusions', Travel in the days it is of woman that can forget the joys, the sorrows, and also the pains, and even how to wake up, or to drop asleep her passport always lurks in her hand bag, Fully stamped,

I can forget

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Travel in the days

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yet, I can never forget that I am a woman, her brunette skin is older than her, The date-palms with heavy yields overshadow her, when sugar bustles in the dates, It drips and wets her, Oh, journey of the days there is a woman in me, leading me by hand now and stops at the door of night at Damascus gates I am a woman from the desert of Levant, ... tall are the minarets, and the prayer call sets free wings of white bird, with the wake of dawn and a sun that is rising up until it stands over Al-Bab Al-Sharqi (Eastern Gate) and enters Medhat Pasha Street, where hues wake up in the things

opens a door for loving she releases her breaths in time and place

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and bells over churches

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and in the air that tries to bathe every day, to wash away the smoke, does Damascus know me now?

Does it know my face, hands, voice? a minaret I am, and in my chest, there is a bell that throbs between my ribs chanting a song of love And in the name of the Lord when a bell rings from everywhere lovers come to me with bunches of flowers in their hands, and behind them emanates the fragrance, when she bustles with lovers‟ scent,

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I don‟t have but this heart.

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Nawal Howar Poet and Media ancho. Syrian national. She has published 3 books.  The Sandgrouse in the wind of thirst  Evening Coffee  The exile of a Gazelle

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She animated many national and international festivals. She was awarded a PHD doctorate in ancient history from the Arabic University in Lebanon

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Boat Art Huma Khan , India June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Ljiljana Jaric The Halls of Time ( Since the days began, nothing is infinite ) Gilgamesh poem

I would go to hug the happy days With passion I would go the way of blooming linden I would go in the blue cycle of dawn, While the birds wash with dew.

I breathe the fresh morning air.

In the night I have to breathe it into song And wash the letters with silky hair.

So the disobedient cover the kind soul.

I feel that the past has changed The more the future looms.

The past becomes prone to danger

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Which the time hides in the halls.

Oh, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Memories!

Where have you gone, Where have you flown?

One war-painted winter freezing in rail perons One war-painted spring Which no one could peel in any way.

Trains! Trains and feet wet of rain A bundle of a tired boy And eyes in which the star does not shine anymore.

The clean Lacrimosa One woman with the fist wrinkle, Offers the lost kingdom for a little breath.

At night, the Danube waves sing the night songs Guarding in rafts the sadness of fallen birds.

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A beautiful and sad woman hurries to survey their song.

Her hands keep the secret of time which opens the door In her head the written letters, which always breath.

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Like when they say the prayer And thought that makes the sleeping eye And verses which are written on their own.

The winds are running, and the rain pours Over the Panonian swamps One thought opens my eyes Where to go now, After this dream, Headless?

Where is my blue star?

Ljiljana Jaric wrote: My name is Ljiljana Jaric. I live in Novi Sad, Serbia. I finished Serbian language and world literature. I write poems.

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Where ?

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Rifaa' Abu-Jabal The One If all of them I saw Yet one; I shall call My man of eternity My precious soul A voice in me Will always choose you Turn to you And point at you In your presence I would rise When I fall.

(Ri)

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Sep 11, 2017

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Nature Yesterday I cried my soul out.

She had so much winter inside.

My aura was dry and I oceaned it with tears.

We also circle nature within us We circle our pain and fears.

Yesterday I cried my soul out, And all of a sudden I had a new sun and new seas.

(Ri) Feb 17, 2020

A Caterpillar Dress

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You will never know how many caterpillars I take off everyday; only to sew a selvage of a wing that opens my eyes to a time called morning.

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You will never know how many caterpillars I take off everyday; only to sew a selvage of a wing belongs to a butterfly that hasn't flown yet.

(Ri) Aug 8, 2017

I am Rifaa' Abu-Jabal ( 33 ,)‫ ِرفاء أبو جبل‬years old, from the occupied Syrian Golan-Heights (Majdal Shams village).

I knew about "Silk Road Literature Series" through a friend of mine, and I would like to submit three poems of mine, written originally in English.

I have a B.Ed. in teaching English as a second language. I have a passion for languages, literature, poetry, music and all life's arts, and above all writing (I have been writing since childhood, and sharing my writings on social media since 10 years ago).

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I am also planning to publish my first book.

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Anita Pešić Invocation

Dear God… shower me with light, raise me up with compassion.

Help me to silently fight, my fears, desires and passion.

Bring me closer to you set me free from lust, I need you father, its true you‟re the only I trust.

Make me better and humble fill my heart with grace, so long I crawl and stumble

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its you – my safest place.

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I can’t breathe People are tortured because of their color, I feel their pain, affliction and dolour.

Many are killed. For them we pray.

You know and I know - that‟s not okay!

We need to stand, we need to speak about equality and justice we seek.

Pray, but also show you are human, we have to stop what is inhumane!

Listen your mind, but follow your heart, let‟s be together, united and smart.

Help us create oneness and peace, help us defeat bloodthirsty police!

Not all those racists understood yet

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innocent victims we don‟t forget!

We‟ll have our rights, there is no doubt, show us respect you talk about!

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TOGETHER WE CAN The moment has come to embrace your soul.

Slow down, be patient safety is our goal.

The time is perfect to grow and increase harmony, strenght and ultimate peace.

Stand for each other that is our plan, we‟ll win this virus TOGETHER WE CAN.

Hard times are here.

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Be courageous, dare to love and forgive, to fearlessly share.

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Today is the day to make the world better.

Remember that nothing

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else really metter.

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ANITA PEŠIŠ was born in Niš, Serbia on 8th April in 1987. She is a teacher, specialized in drama art and honorable member of the “Association of the best teachers” in the former Yugoslavia. Anita developed her talent for writing from an early age. So far, she has published four books for children of different ages: "The colors of my soul", "Garden of the Imagination, "Flight to the World" and “Sunny and fairies”.

Anita‟s writings are represented in numerous national and international anthologies. She is the winner of many accolades and awards in Serbia and beyond. Her poems have been translated into English, Macedonian, Bulgarian and Romani language.

Anita is a versatile artist, expressing herself through photography, painting and creating unique puppets and toys. She is also organizing art competitions for children, composing songs for puppet theater shows and drawing illustrations for books too.

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Anita sees the beauty and inspiration in everyone and everything. Her motto is “Find out what makes you happy and then inspire others by doing what you love.”

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KATARINA SARIĆ The third tango My daughter is playing on the square with the city band a contraption which stands for a classical piano synthesizer it is called-abusively says my dad who is horribly unnerved by noise synthesized time unites all the sound and sense and I still somehow hope that it will unite all the old Slavs he kept beseeching god that she not be like me--a naked whim not to stitch for score She plays the waltz from the First Echelon of a Soviet film I've never managed to see but I do remember some of the remakes local allusions

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to the theme Komsomolets on for the steppes of Qazaqstan on to get rich overnight June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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I didn't have to see well, haven't I seen the one the Kopaonik* excursion the years in which rock'n'roll died and there was no one to drive with me on the midnight train when drunk I shed my hymen with the first machinist man from the discotheque in an unease less I'd be the only chaste before the certificate of graduated maturity and to be continued some domesticated and already famed bone-breakers -- who translate every imported idea unspeakably literally -pulled the first guns against real bullets of some who had but billiard cues there is again a fault in the brain and the conk broke before it flowered our shortened graduation excursion

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through our shortened land No one danced with me the graduation dance for there were thirty two of us skirts at that language school June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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My daughter is playing the first tango from the Echelon she really stamps on it with her left foot yet still in the drained land I am dancing to her earthquake on my own path and I know already that it has never been for nothing that not me is she that she will pay them my debt

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*Kopaonik is a mountain in Serbia.

Katarina Sariš was born 1976. She is an acclaimed Montenegrin poet, writer and civil rights activist. She is a professor of Slavic literature and philosophy and a master student of political science. She writes engaging literature, created for performance and theatre. So far, she has published 12 books, most of which was translated into various languages, awarded and published in numerous literary portals and online platforms. The founder and editor of the online literary edition „Vavilonska biblioteka“ (The Babylon Library). She lives in Montenegro.

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Mahmoud Soliman

On my way to you, I will wage a war From one side As I own nothing But one grin...

I will empty the thirty years And ask the children, The streets and stations, The newspapers sellers, About a blood which is not mine And about friends who left behind their weeping And departed...

I will sort out my dreams And arrange my only dirty -old shoe By war and peace, And mumble simple things: The palm tree that has never been fruitful, The dog that got bored of its barking Thus it died alone..

On my way to you, I forget the disappointments of my hands And the quarrel of my children, And my need to cry, And ask, “How many roses are in the way...!”

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I’ll get my Bags ready to Travel

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As I possess nil from the war Except dust of fake triumphs, I will get my bags ready to travel, And the hamlet for the trip, And the sparrows For the rifle...

Ah I wish the clouds could follow me While I hide the tempest In my half sleeve shirt And give the fields my coffee And bow To the air that disperses The gathering of the love ones Ah if the war would realize that I‟m counting the stones In my baby‟s short pipe...

Nothing is in the vehicles But war Nothing is in the war But a way Which leads to nothing new...

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DETAILS At night The houses hide its glow And the road I still know How to prepare my laugh For stars June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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At night The poem comes into me Writes me Then Leaves me To prepare tea for my past And to the age that departed And did not read my D E T A I L S

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Mahmoud Soliman wrote: I‟m an Egyptian poet ,I was born in 1976 , I have many poems that I got Prizez for .

One day I‟ll have my publishing house . that will publish books and help people to know and learn more abook life .and how can they change their own life to be great June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Mohammed El Hedeiny Ode to a woman who lost her memory I know a woman whose neck moles are rosary beads faded from the hand of a blind dervish, he is wandering now in the streets of a cruel city.

I know a woman whose gardener feels heart-broken upon his hands that were cracked in caring for roses and flowers that modified themselves genetically and opened their space for flocks of artificial bees.

And it is She whose the waves of her eyes are carrying a poor floating sailor, who doesn't know that the guiding lighthouse

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he is yearning for was demolished by her and with its stones she constructed a road to a secret cave guarded by a spider and two pigeons.

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To be a poet To be a poet: is to seek refuge from the tiredness of travelling by retravelling in non-existing times and places, is to carve new creatures and worlds with the chisel of your imagination, is to be the hero of tales, poems and pictures and is to wait for yourself in the arrival halls and on the docks of stations and ports.

To be a poet is to modify yourself genetically into: a magician bag, a chessboard, a burial room, innocents holocaust , hand wrinkles, hearth ashes,

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cave darkness a hunter net a butcher knife June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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and a baby balloon.

To be a poet is to die alone while reciting your laughs on the ears of your foolish mourners of ants and gastropods.

Another land I'm fed up with my mirror, I'm fed up with my bed, I'm fed up with the dining table, I'm fed up with the lift, I'm fed up with the sound of the doorbell, I'm fed up with the noisy wall clock, I'm fed up with the colour, I'm fed up with the taste, I'm fed up with the stereotyped mornings and evenings greetings, I'm fed up with my weirdness, I'm fed up with my mercurial mood.

and create a metamorphosed being, a new Frankenstein adapted to live on a land that has been inhabited before by former deads.

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I will open my window when the moon is absent and jump into the arms of the thunderous winter wind, hoping it would strike me

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Boat Art Rami Rabei

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Mohammed El Hedeiny is an Egyptian poet and very short stories writer. He has three published very short stories books (Outside the Sides of the Circle), (Adam's Tragedy) and ( Nobody There )which won The State Incentive Award for Literature in 2019. The manuscript of his published poetry pamphlet (Orchestra Plays a Silent Tune) was shortlisted in Afifi Mattar Award for Arabic Poetry in 2018.

His poetry manuscript (A Shadow Casts Over Distant Waters) was shortlisted in Arab Gallery for Culture and Arts Award in 2020.

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Muhammad Ghazi Al-Najjar Picasso in Al-kawm Al-Tweel * * Al-kawm Al-Tweel: The village from which the poet's family originally comes from.

A lamppost crucified on a crossroad Tortured by the blue tyrannical night till it lights up

A wise owl inhabiting my star-dotted ceiling And dogs hover over the boundaries of my circle

I lean my arched back On the squared field sleeping at its darkness

In front of me, the canal is a rectangle running And dragging the residuals of fields‟ memory Trees are lined up as triangles

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Leaning over its two solid angles

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I get a little drowsy Then I rise to walk on the whiteness of my rectangular shadow I cross the bridge curve to the other side of the village

Houses are cubes Scattered On their green plain

The threshing floor Is a gray trapezoid Straightened by children‟s playing and grains-drying

And hay is in Yellow pyramids Adorning lands after harvest "Osiris" incarnated on their peaks

Pigeonholes towers

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Are cones Transcending with their heads and their doves‟ dreams Above their boring reality June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Arches of birds are intersecting with arches of clouds And painting for the sky the story of peaceful struggle

The train is an ancient rural cylinder rolling over two infinite lines People are curves swaying inside its belly While in their bellies, eggs significances are swaying Till they hatch or break Sunday Souk will gather their twists, While Aspirations souk will scatter them In the depth of the circular scene Where the sun on the painting's horizon is a bright sphere between clouds‟ jelly Pouring their color over a herd of spotted cows Walking in the north of the painting between parallel wheat, clover and beet

In its West, Picasso is drawing me; With my round heart,

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my long hair, And my emerald eyes Whispering to me, pointing with his brush: June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

fields of

The Mediterranean Waves Anthology

Truth has six faces, Diving under the appearance, Floating above cubism.

Falling is plural, Rising is singular

Falling is plural Here where our greatest dreams have fallen and have been defeated A will became true A will we felt and were trying to deny or erase A will like wind Like a subjugating virus Like the footprints of jinn It enters like thunder from a porthole in the furthest place in the soul where its hissing settles in a hidden cellar

Here where the horizon had been fractured We farewell the luminous reminiscence along the road, as it keeps our brilliant effort

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And we have walked as the free folk Reassured Neither hurrying up nor slowing down June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Whistling, smiling Our heads up, Distributing looks at what we have often overlooked We have been freed out of nowhere We have nothing to fear, and we are no longer lured by hope Minutes of place expanded to allow us to fill the space of time with what we had long neglected

Rising is singular Here is evening‟s bed elongating; so that I can finally seduce a woman for her breasts, and split her apple in two halves - so that our fatigued bodies can coalesce, breathing my soul into her, and dedicating her a bouquet of flowers every night, a bottle of perfume every Thursday, and a ring crowned with diamonds and azurite on her birthday.

Finally, I will arrange my scattered dismembered room with what befits my new world; so it does not turn into ghosts and wild creatures in the middle of the night.

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A Dinner table is expanding its dishes for fried salmon slices, grilled lamb chops, imported fruits, and whatever I crave for, while the glass shines with fine French wine, and life shines within my eyes.

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I will travel, They say "There are seven advantages of traveling" I will travel and discover the eighth.

I will build new friendships with the simple, poor, orphans, elderly, and people with special needs; carrying their worries on my shoulders in the morning; and inhabit their hearts in the evening.

I will strengthen my relations with neighbors; I will give my frowning neighbor a flowerpot gift to open in her heart a balcony of beauty, bring the crippled man next door a book to walk in its streets and breathe fresh air, and gift my young neighbor who looks deep in my eyes whenever she sees me, my poem collection− so she sees me.

I will make friendships with the creatures around me: I will share my food with street cats, walk with them in the beginning of loneliness at the end of the night, and sit down with them until I understand their language and talk with them in the next evening.

I will end my night at dawn by listening to birds‟ symphony on trees and under the skylight, and I will sleep on their musical tales.

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Cats are monarchs that fell down to the Earth to execute a sentence just like us, but they are nicer than some humans, as smart as roses, as sensitive as water, and extremely loyal.

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I will wait for afternoon hoopoe when he visits our neighborhood, and I will try to deduce the story behind the crown above his head, his tales over the water, and the secret of his flying in incomplete circles; perhaps he is also seeking perfection.

Forenoon butterflies will recognize me by their own, and float around my spirit; butterflies are poets having fulfilled the dream of the two wings; don‟t we see their immortal enchantment with light, roses and beauty.

I will buy a sugar-packet, and head to the nearby ant colony, making for them huge white hills with my spoon...

I'm afraid they might die from happiness!

As for the foundling puppy I found next to my building, I will buy a syringe and feed him to compensate his mother‟s absence, and will contemplate growing life inside him, and the manner in which fidelity grows between two souls.

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The sunflower that wanted a life; overcame the city‟s geography, and bloomed beneath the edge of my building, brightly raising its yellow flag above the tiles, I will take a photo of it and look at it whenever I feel impersonated by despair.

I will embrace each tree of the trees' row, hang on their branches what remains of my dusty memories in order to sunbathe and grow. I will kiss June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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the forehead of the only palm tree behind my building, and plant next to it a new palm to entertain her.

I will stand among lampposts, and raise my arms just like them, and light my palms to those who are bewildered and those craving for beauty.

I will restore my old friendships, and take care of the smallest affairs of my friends- starting from their cigarettes brands to their favorite phone game, even share with them what I do not like, and I will definitely take a good care of their dreams.

Why haven't I smoked yet?!

It seems that there will be one more smoker tonight, While I have been smoking -believe me- I have written this new poem.

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Name:

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Mohammed Ghazi Al-Najjar ( 33) , Egyptian Prizes: poetry collection "She reveals herself to me " won the competition of the Supreme Council of Culture, "Khairy Shalaby", for the classical poetry branch.

Literary production:

-Poetry collection "When the Earth was Viable", the Egyptian General Book Authority, 2019.

-"She reveals herself to me " poetry collection under printing.

-Have published many poems in a number of magazines, newspapers, and cultural and news sites such as: Al-Ahram newspaper, Newspaper Literature News, Al-Destur Magazine, Al-Hilal magazine, Ebdaa magazine, Al-Thaqafa Al-Jadida magazine, Adab Wa Naqd magazine, Algerian newspaper Al-Gomhoria, and Sudanese Geel Gadeed magazine.

-Has participated in many poetry evenings and cultural events in different places such as: Cairo International Book Fair, Egyptian Writers Union, House of Poetry, Cairo Atelier, House of Poetry, International Book Center, the Opera House, al-Adaba'a House, Cairo University, al-Tagamo' Party, El Sawy Culture Wheel, Taha Hussein Museum, Tanta International Poetry Festival, and a number of literary clubs.

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- Some of my poems were translated into English and French.

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Nina Abdul Razzak Olive oil Growing up I got to see My uncle pouring olive oil in a plate, Sprinkling it with a dash of salt, Dipping pieces of bread in it, And enjoying every bite he ate!

Growing up I got to see My mother mixing olive oil, sesame seeds, and thyme, Spreading the mixture over flattened pieces of dough, Pinching the dough on the edges in a zigzag border, Baking it, till its taste and smell are sublime…

Manakeesh is what they are called Those famous baked round pieces of dough.

The finer the olive oil and the thyme,

And the faster they surely go!

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The more appealing is their smell and taste

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Growing up I got to see Our Nabulsi neighbor passionately busy at home, Mixing virgin olive oil and water, To create ivory-colored cubes of soap To cover skin with bubbly, luminous and silky foam.

Growing up I got to see My old and kindhearted granny Heating olive oil in a pot Rubbing it on every aching spot, Like a true magical remedy for any weak and frail body!

Wonders she did With anyone who resorted to her for relief.

Like a wizard, she made the pain just disappear.

An angel from the skies she then was,

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With an olive oil magical wand wrapped in nothing but a leaf.

Growing up I got to see A history of love between olive oil and Palestine, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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A secret force of attraction between both, Exhibited in different ways and forms; A chemistry and a bond that seems endless and divine.

Growing up I got to see My people, not only as lovers of olives and their oil, But as guardians of the trees that produce it, As freedom-fighters of the land bearing those trees,

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And a melting pot, where the olive oil and their blood conjointly boil!

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Dr. Nina Abdul Razzak (Palestinian poet who resides in BAHREIN) currently works as a Higher Education Academic Consultant/Review Director with the Bahrain Education and Training Quality Authority (BQA). Before this, she was an Assistant Professor of Educational Psychology and Educational Leadership at the Bahrain Teachers‟ College (BTC) of the University of Bahrain (UoB) from the year 2008August 2016. She has many years of experience teaching at all school levels as well as in higher education.

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As a researcher, she has written and published in a variety of areas like: best practices in education, technology access and integration in schools, teachers‟ professional development, the effects of child maltreatment, and gender-related issues. She is also a reviewer on a number of international scientific journals and is the founder and managing editor of her own international peer-reviewed journal, the Journal of Teaching and Teacher Education, which is sponsored and funded by her university.

One of Dr. Abdul Razzak‟s major hobbies is writing for leisure and she is currently an author of two published literary works: a collection of poems and a memoir. Before her book „My Rights Are Divine: A Closer Look At Children‟s Rights in the Muslim Arab World‟, she published a memoir called „A Year To Forget: A Year Spent in Agony‟, which focused on a very painful year of her life while suffering with loss, illness, and a number of other unfortunate events. Prior to that, she had published a collection of poems focusing on her status and outlook as a second-generation Palestinian refugee. She composed and collected those poems over a number of years and finally published them in a book, called „Displaced Treasures: A Collection of Poems of Exile‟. Her work was well-received by many readers in the Arabian Gulf region, especially by those who could relate to the Palestinian experiences of displacement, exile, and occupation.

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Dr. Abdul Razzak‟s modest but successful experiences at publishing have encouraged her to pursue writing even further as a dream that she has had from a very young age. To her, writing is a peaceful outlet through which she can reflect on, and clearly express, her true self and feelings. She tends to prefer writing about things she is strongly passionate about, like for example, human suffering, her original homeland, or her own personal experiences. She hopes to continue writing till her last breath, for she strongly believes that as long as one is able to think and feel, one is able to create.

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Jasmina Hanjalić The Queen and I I know that you are visiting the nooks of Kozograd* from where you are observing the infinity, before the final journey.

You engrain the eternity into the hours, my queen.

The trees are extending their branches, as then, the stones are leaning on the rocks, but the life, mine and yours, leaning on this thick silence.

Did you also realize that you didn't know others and yourself and whichever side you chose when you headed for the valley you wondered, how was it like to choose the other side?

Clock‟s hands always come to the same place as I want to give myself to yours

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and become the shadow of this town, forever.

*Kozograd (lat. Chossao) is the name of the medieval Bosnian fortress.

It was first mentioned in the written sources in the 15th century.

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Boat Art Alaa Aboelhamd

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Jasmina Hanjališ was born 1963. She is an acclaimed and awardwinning Bosnian poet and writer. She works as an ER doctor. She published a couple of books of poetry and short stories. She received several local and international literary awards. Editor-in-Chief of the widely read literary blog “Literary Corner”. She lives in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

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Nikola Šimić Tonin A clamp called man Metaphysics of the soil The place you were born is determined by the degree minute and second latitude and longitude you were born there thatʼs where you learned to speak began to breathe eat from that soil drink water from that source to bask in the sun on that ground to search atoms on the edge of the world

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metaphysics of the soil.

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Nikola Šimiš Tonin is a Croatian poet, novelist, children‟s author, essayist, playwriter, literary, theatre and art critic. He has published dozens of books of various literary genres. He has received Croatian and international literary awards. His works have been published in many Croatian and international magazines, online magazines, as well as on the literary blogs. He is the Editor-in-Chief of the Croatian literary magazine „Zadarski književni ljetopis“ (“The Literary Chronicle of Zadar”).

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Boat Art Gihan Fayez

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Goran Radičević Moonlight - Wolf's dream summons night silver floats through the Mississippi the female's fur is only a shadow in the wolf's eyes do you hear the longing of the prairie in the call of alpha males moonlight at the top of the hill he dreams he is there his beloved

Padlock We didn't put a padlock on the Avignon bridge love is

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locked our hearts we did not put gold padlock on fingers ...

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I marry you with a kiss you marry me with a smile and happiness becomes our home.

Teach me Sunset to see with the eyes of a child In my homeland there is no rainforest or a tiger Moonlight silver pastures in the sky I have the eyes of an old man and I forget beauty Teach me

to see

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again

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Down the Alps to the Apennines...

Down the Alps to the Apennines one should have a heart like a house my brother european my world brother ...

But we...

Everyone in their corner each in his fear cramped and selfish ...

Down the Alps to the Apennines it takes a million hugs and love.

It is easy to sing under the banner of happiness but it should be there as well where the rains of tears fall my brother european.

Today I know, my brother is selfish,

my brother won't help.

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my brother is scared

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Boat Art Ahmed Hilal

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It's worse than death.

Morning with Mary Magdalene By habit two cups of coffee on my desk, hurry up, cool down …

With your green eyes every smile is a virgin.

I got caught up in the past this morning and words, single who does not leave the house till noon waiting for you that of a mother born we drink our first coffee.

To me, this wait is not in vain …

By habit i look into the depths of green lakes

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looking for whirlpools smile swirling.

Maybe this morning June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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in the spite of the world you sit on your lap as they cool us down

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coffee.

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Goran Radičeviš (1964) Donje Zaostro, Montenegro He published his first collections of poetry: "Skiven u oku", "Vučici poema ljubavi" and "Oprostite sjeni" in the edition "Nekazano" in 2018. After that, he published various other collections (poetry, haiku, aphorisms): Za ostrim kamenom , Opus 2015, Sjaj praskozorja, Vrisak tišine, Nije umro sonet, Jugovina, Jek i odjek, Nenaslovljene pjesme, Kletva, Sin Tifrana, Nekazano i ja, Uokvireno stihom, Na serpentinama tišine, Ka Narajami, Je suis Godo, one of them in Spanish: "Miel de pedra".

He is the editor of the magazine "Nekazano Haiku", a representative of the Writers' Union in Spanish for Montenegro. He is the editor of several collections, anthologies and books, reviewer and essayist. His poems have been published in several domestic and foreign magazines.

He writes poetry in Serbian, Hungarian and Inter-Slavic.

His poetry has been translated into several foreign languages, represented in numerous anthologies, collections and almanacs, present on various sites, blogs and groups of international poetry. Translations from Russian, Hungarian, Slovenian and Macedonian.

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He claims that everything that has been written leaves a trace and testifies to its existence.

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Jelena Ljubenović BARK AND THE WRITER All those writers could been watched in the moonlight and bark in the midnight pain in the dead when they're silent

How wonderful is to connect the sky and tablecloth brooms and flowers and all the kids with the summer

All those writers once throw their papers and ideas and hung on the ropes of heaven in the dead when they're silent

How is wonderful to die

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and be an epochal fault and be strong, stormy, alive listen to bark and confess to him the pain June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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THE DREAM OF LYRE It will snow your dreams your innocence your bed your awakening your dream they are for someone the door of tenderness for someone an island of incoherent beliefs

you will come calm when you fall asleep if you're awake enough for one moment you will find a letter by which you addressed yourself to the ocean of eternity

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you will be amazed

now I'm not writing a poem June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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because from the face of the prophets souls I feel cold pain and calm and snow accompanied by silent Psalms accompanied by the waves of His every plant is a becoming every beat does not exist

ACOUSTICS Sometimes He takes me through a dream

and when I wake up like I'm all at once left all the songs

sometimes I sail – sail

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not knowing I no longer have a mind and that prayer is endless into the heart June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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sometimes I'm hugged and from that embrace immortality wakes me up

oh how are the days filled with Your echo

when I'm on my skin burned my sin lest it spread

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that it would never expand

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Jelena Ljubenoviš (1995) was born in Aleksinac, Serbia. She published a bilingual Book of poems HOD / The Walk / ‫ ﻗدم زدن‬supported by the Literary Club "Mala Ptica" from Belgrade, Serbia. Her poetry has been translated into English, German, Arabic, Farsi and Turkish language.

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She is inspired by the architecture of life and by philosophical poetic performances. She strongly believe in the poetic words as a universal expression of truth, beauty and very often pain. For her, poetry is untouchable and tender picture of blessings. Poetry is her necessity and serenity that is sometimes so elusive. She is a theologian and a writer.

She lives and creates her artistic path in Belgrade, Serbia.

Boat Art Gihan Soliman June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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GASSARA Mohamed Carrion She ploughs the bull along my bony chest after sprinkling the insecticide of dreams.

At night, she adores me, the morning, she leaves me like a deceitful bee to the bestial fig trees.

The sloughis sleep on the savannian moon when She seeps into the bird‟s cemetery to scream, and sing for the glory of broken beaks.

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I open my eyes, she sits on my lashes to drink a glass of sights June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Ali Hassan

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suspended on the infertile mulberry in a stateless day.

Written and translated by GASSARA Mohamed

The inexhaustible sailors I put pirate‟s eye out on the ship of defeat, I drew on his face a smile of miscreance, then I rose the flag of courage, a sign of power.

A little fish looked at me from the depths, Startled, the sun escaped me, I cursed it, and the storm tried to scare me, I showed it that I‟am not Moby Dick.

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An octopus jumped on my face furtively, to revenge, I bit its tentacles graspingly, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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then I let it knock down on the deck.

I didn‟t pretend being Heracles, I assure that wind and assegais of time crumble in front of the orphans‟ soul, and the sailors‟ patience, as their entities are antiseismic, and they are always armed with aegis to resist against evil of sea-earth.

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Written and translated by GASSARA Mohamed

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GASSARA Mohamed : Born on 4th April, 2001, in Sfax (Tunisia), Mohamed Gassara is a poet writing in French language and a Literature student. He has started writing poetry since high school. He has written on diverse topics. Moreover, his poetry is clearly endowed with philosophical and spiritual touches. He has also published his poems in many literary magazines and journals worldwide and many of his poems were translated into foreign languages . In 2019, he won the First Poetry Award.

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Türkan Ergör PEACE Languages Colors Countries Even if it is different The sun that people miss Peace.

Of the aid, Of the smile, It's where beauty lives Peace.

Happiness, Serenity, Friendship, fraternity are the words Peace.

Love,

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Respect, Tolerance, solidarity are the thoughts Peace.

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It's where children play It's where children go to school It's where the sun rises Peace.

LOVE AND PEACE Singing of love songs Birds Also even trees Sea waves shoot each other For love for peace Wind whispers love words Together with peace Sun warms With love with peace Even while it pour rains Singing love songs

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Together with peace The World turns around itself West to east June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Occurs day and night The World turns around the Sun Occurs seasons Love and peace Living together in the World Moving together And the World Sings of love and peace songs.

PEACE There are wars in the world Very cruel Innocent people dying Where there is no peace There are sadness and unhappiness There is bad life Love and respect disappears

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Jealousies and selfishness begins They succumb to their ambitions They kill each other June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Children are crying for peace These cries must end stop All people must be happy, laugh Peace provides people to love, respect, Provides people to live happy and peaceful.

Thus humanity, goodness, Beautiful life begins.

Peace makes life easier, Makes countries strong.

Peace brotherhood, solidarity, tolerance provides, Finishes evil.

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Peace is important and beautiful for humanity.

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Türkan Ergör, Sociologist, Philosopher, Writer, Poet, Columnist, Ambassador for Peace, World Peace Icon.

Türkan Ergör was born in 19 March 1975 in city Çanakkale, Turkey.

She is from city İzmir, Turkey. Her father name is Sait Halim Ergör.

She graduated from the Department of Sociology, Philosophy, Business Management and Home Management.

Award-Winning Turkish Writer. She has won many awards and accolades around the world from various institutions and organizations abroad. She has role model for all her writer friends, with worldwide won many awards and accolades from various institutions and organizations abroad.Türkan Ergör is a prominent writer from Turkey who has been articles and poems effective about life and environment.

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Garnered fame for its profound poetry related to life and environment. Her poems have been translated into different languages and published. Türkan Ergör, Spanish-World Writers' Union–UNIÓN HISPANOMUNDIAL DE ESCRITORES (UHE) of Turkey President.

Awarded International "Best Poet 2020" by the International Multi Disciplinary Research Conference. She was named International " Best Author, Writer 2021 ". She was also named " Best Poet 2021". Her biography, articles and poems have been published in newspaper, magazine, encyclopedia and anthologie s. Paramount Sultan of the Philippines HM SULTAN MORAD S. UMPA and HRH SULTAN ALI AMPASO UMPA gave the title of Princess for Türkan Ergör.

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Metin Fındıkçı Forgetable We had started with forgotten shadows But loves don‟t remain as they are, that if you open The window on the backyard side Neither the cat nor the child, even if you call From a nearby ruin

We‟ve forgotten within the forgotten shadows On the mattress that we sat legs crossed We dwindle away as far as we look into time Opening to yard all day long.

Forgotten within the forgotten yard Muddy flowers, beak of the birds Bloody eyed pomegranate and me

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In an ancient city

I don‟t tidy up your forgotten nudity From my kid bed anymore June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Are you there?

From the ruin standing within me, Wish you call once again..

Last Word We‟ve come from the sound of smashed roses We‟ve come from the remains of the frozen photos names known to us We‟ve come from the remained faces from a time fable which we carry in our hearts We‟ve come from stars back out of us, from blooming snowdrops we‟ve come.

Ruins/IV to Birsen My dreams are so far

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Don‟t tell me anymore You have spent all So do I… June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Criticize Hit my face with your lips again This gull flies from my most loved sides

„‟If you have known how much I miss you‟‟ you say‟‟ naked in my bed far for hours‟‟

The Bell Turban and Fishes The bell rings blow In the mouth of the dry veined orange They fall the green turbans Turban‟s hands are up in the air.

- Hands down, it waits for your help only Fishes flow in the sea

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Clear and bare

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In Memorium of An Old Used Death Rosebay flavor left I don‟t know from which love it‟s remained You have taken the water which I wash my face You sowed those wild weed They strangle the rose in my heart.

While can‟t get wind of wind in sweat Sea left its last drop In the front of the wall, It has got pale What it used to mean in the poem That; has to be looked up again

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(Translated by Tuğrul Asi Balkar & O. Nuri Peşkircioğlu)

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Metin Findikji: He was born in 1961 in Mardin, Turkey. After he finished his middle school his family went to Ankara and there he got his high school diploma.

He worked as an employee then as a translator in a company. He got early retirement for the sake of poetry and translations. Now he lives in Istanbul.

He started writing poetry in 1980. In parallel, he began translating Arabic poetry to introduce it to the Turkish readers. He published his poetry and translations into many literature publication and magazines.

The poet was most interested in translating poets like Adonis, Nizar Qabbani, Nazik Al-Malaika.

He published five poetry books Desolation (1992), My Heart is Under Water (1996), Cloves in Distance (2001), Forgotten ( 2004), Jacket from the Dessert (2006)> He also published many translated poems 3 books for Adonis, 3 books for Mahmoud Darwish, and a poetry book for Nizar Qabbani> Mouhammed Bennis.

He also translated for Ghada Al-Samman, Fedwa Toukan, Ahmed al Şahhavi and Aisha Al-Basri.

Anthology of Modern Arabic Poetry Anthology of Arabic Love Poetry

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Anthology of Arab Poetess

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Boat Art Mervet Shazly

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Xanthi Hondrou-Hill Mediterranean waves…

Three blue poets fill our life one singing the blue from the sky the other the waves of the sea and the third whispers the wisdom of the wind

No matter to which shores the poem takes us with which clouds we want to travel with the wave of a blue scarf or the white sail of a boat the wing of a plane there is always the wisdom of the wind to carry us

To reach the shores of dreams

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with flowers, pebbles and sea shells as treasures.

The nights were we talked at blue tables with friends or on the phone miles away, listening to the tide June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The fun we shared traveling in a rental car without lights on an island looking to avoid a monastery and ending up spending the day there in the arms of a Saint bringing with us healing oils and sacred water

The paintings we discovered in the small museum, in our faces and on the street corners looking down to the sea feeding a foreign hungry artist at the little coffee shop by the seaside We didn't exchange letters and alphabets like our ancestors didn't care if the numbers were Arabic or Greek didn't even try to find common ground because three blue poets, a painter and a musician filled our life

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with the waves of the Mediterranean…

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Xanthi Hondrou-Hill grew up and studied in Stuttgart, German Literature, Journalism and Public Relations Management. She has lived in several countries: Germany, Britain, Holland and Greece. She started writing poems in German since she was 15 years old. First publication at the age of 19 in the University Newsletter of Stuttgart Germany, in Anthologies "Allmanach" 1993 of the "Schristellerhaus Stuttgart" and "Gute Reise meine Augen" 1992, which means safe journey my love, and in online magazines. Around 2000 she starts writing in Greek, when she moved to Naousa. Her Poems are published in the Greek Magazines Kefalos and in APICO. She worked as teacher for Greek, German and English at different schools in Germany and at the University of Stuttgart she taught Greek Language and Culture.

Additionally, she worked as Public Relations Consultant at the Greek Consulate in Stuttgart, creating the DAYS of Greek Culture in 1996 and the political exchange between Greece and Baden Wuertemberg. She also worked as environmental journalist and cultural correspondent for German speaking newspapers and the Greek National Radiostation ERT.

Past and current Memberships: Member of the Society of Greek Poets in Germany - Member of the House of Writers in Stuttgart - Member of many online Poetic Groups in Greece - Freelance Journalist for several German Newspapers - Administrator for Naousa Poli Authentiki - The Band Project Administrator for ΚΙΝΗΣΗ για τα ΓΡΑΜΜΑΤΑ και τις ΤΕΧΝΕΣ - KINISI gia ta GRAMMATA kai tis TEXNES.

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She is currently the editor for the poetry section of the online magazine APEIRONART Journal and working as a translator from 1995 for Greek, English and German.

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Francisco Azuela * SOLEDAD Poem from the unpublished book THE PRISONER OF THE ANDES * XXXV Mondial Prize for Poetry. Italy, 2020.

LONELINESS To the Tarahumara, indigenous Rrámuris from northern Mexico.

Now that the song of the birds is gone And at night, the storm Has a pitiful and lonely barking of dogs, And love has withered.

Loneliness I know you, at last.

Goddess of silence and of a hollow branch,

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Ere once the birds wove their nests.

Great deaths appear to my mind, Immense characters June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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And their glorious times.

Kings, poets and warriors, The freedom of the nations has been very high, Blood has flowed As much as the rivers that flow into the deep sea.

A strange insect has prowled your soul And you have gone with him In an act of devotion so similar to an absence.

You‟ve already forgiven great injustices.

The mutilated men claim Their right to be heard, And only you can feel a bitter wind Breaking your heart in the deserted mountains.

Be brave, comrade of the dawn.

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It´s not far the awakening; You can interpret all the illusions of these people, This village immersed in the poverty of life; June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Make sing again the white blackbird of old solitudes, Make it be heard the song of the goldfinches And of the troubadours, May the world turn it´s face To be grafted onto the afternoon spike Where a sun dreaming of hope is setting.

Make that dawn chant and so with it your soul.

Translation from Spanish by the poet Reynaldo Marcos Padua, editor, storyteller, and retired teacher.

Doctor Padua is a university professor at the Universty of Puerto Rico, Cayey campus.

Alien Eight

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They left you, homeland, when you threw flowers to the stars and your sons were searching for a crust of bread in the shadow of the border.

They left the tomb to bury hundreds of the dead, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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they left the Plaza of the Republic, a drop of water fell on your head, the scopolamine and the pentothal broke your memory, you could not invent even the smallest of lies, your bones afloat left like a solar ray, with wounded hands you spoke your true name, obstinate in death.

When they leave the homeland, all stuff themselves with silence, it can not be forgotten.

Wherever falls the sound of the stone a god the size of a scarab cries between the boulders with half its body missing.

Translated by Ron Hudson.

Aztecal VIII In this poem of the dead your father died,

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and so did your grand-father and your issue; the afternoon was over at a glance.

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the love of your ancestors was extinguished, your birds are gone and the star on your brow grew silent, like a handful of sickly roses.

In this poem of the Dead your life has died on you, and for the second time, your homeland passed away at the time you stayed behind to witness a colourless rainbow.

In this poem of the Dead your blood split up into two rivers of blue, into a shadowy skeleton in your eyes made of snow, searching against all odds,

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to find the freedom of your people.

Translated from Spanish and French to English By Margarita Feliciano (ANTARES House of Spanish Culture. Sponsored by The York University Bookstore-Department of Hispanic Studies, Glendon College, York University and The Enrichment Lectures and Events Series of Stong College, York University. Toronto, Canada, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Extracto career and biography the poet Mexican Francisco Azuela.

Francisco Azuela was born on March 8, 1948 in León, Guanajuato. Is a writer and poet. He served as a diplomat in the Mexican Embassy in Costa Rica and later in Honduras (1973–1983). Azuela comes from an artistic family of some renown: his great uncle was Mariano Azuela, author of one of the most celebrated novels of the Mexican Revolution, Los de abajo (The Underdogs). He studied Law at the University of Guanajuato and at the National Autonomous University of Mexico UNAM-; Literature at the Ibero-American University of Mexico City and Pedagogy at the Department of Free Studies of the Pan-American University of Mexico City; He also received courses, workshops and seminars on Philosophy and Literature at the Complutense Universities of Madrid and Laval de Québec, Canada.

Awards, honors and distinctions: Candidate of the Honduran Academy of the Language to the CENVANTES International Literature Prize of Spain in 1981.

Decorated by the Honduran government with the Order of the Liberator of Central America "Francisco Morazán", officer's grade.

Ambassador of the International Poets of the World Movement in Bolivia, 2005.

Awarded with one of the 4 Awards granted by a prestigious jury of the California State Polytechnic University, through its Department of English and Foreign Languages (College of Letters, Arts, and Social Sciences), to integrate the Spring Harvest International 2006 / 2007, one of the most prestigious English language editions in the United States.

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Ambassadeur de la Paix 2006, Geneve, Capitale Mondiale de la Paix.

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He is the author of the following books: Poetry El Maldicionero (1981) Autonomous University of Honduras, 1981) https://www.ral-m.com/revue/IMG/pdf/azuela-capitulo-21.pdf El Tren de Fuego (1993) The Fire Train (1st Edition. Institute of Culture of the State of Guanajuato, 1993) La Parole Ardente - The Ardent Word. Edición bilingüe (1st bilingual Edition, John Donne & Cie. Collection Les Compagnons d'Orphée, directed by Samuel Brejar. Paris, 1993).

La Parole Ardente (2nd bilingual Edition. Plural Editors. Authors of America Collection, La Paz, Bolivia, 2002) Son las Cien de la Tarde - It's One Houndred P.M. in the Evening (1996) It's one hundred in the afternoon (1st Edition. Institute of Culture of the State of Guanajuato, nineteen ninety six). Ángel del Mar de mis Sueños - The sea‟s Angel of my Dreams (1st Edition. El Cóndor de los Andes International Cultural Center-Águila Azteca, A.C. Cochabamba, Bolivia, 2000) Son las Cien de la tarde 2ª Ed (2000)

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Parole Ardente 2ª Ed (2002) Edición bilingüe Collection of Books.

Collection of Poems and Texts in several languages (2008) Anthology of Silence (Brief poetic stories and other songs) Cordillera Real de los Andes (Jacha'a Tata Janqo Khajiri Qollunaka) June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Encuentro de Thunupa y Quetzalcoatl. Meeting of Thunupa and Quetzalcoatl (Thunupa, Tupac Katari and Juancito Pinto) Nuevamente Thunupa y Quetzalcoatl.

The Ardent Word-La Parole Ardente-The Ardent Word. Trilingual edition Antares Publishing House of Spanish Culture Glendon College, York University. Toronto, Ontario, Canada (2008).

Latinoamérica en Llamas. Latin America in Flames (2011) http://www.comunidadandina.org/bda/docs/BO-OC-0001.pdf Encuentro de grandes poetas persas-Isfahan. Meeting of Great Persian Poets-Isfahan (2012) Nuevamente el pasado está adelante. Once again the past is ahead (2012) LATINSKA AMERIKA U PLAMENU (Latin America on Fire) 1st Ed. In Serbian of the Association of Hispanists of Serbia. Belgrade, 2015.

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Chinese translation of poems by Francisco Azuela. "WORLD POETRY YEARBOOK 2013", plotted by The International Poetry Translation and Research Center (IPTRC), co-edited by Dr. CHOI LAI SHEUNG, a famous poet in Hong Kong and Dr. ZHANG ZHI, President of IPTRC, and jointly translated and revised by Prof. ZHANG ZHIZHONG and Ms. Sophy Chen, famous poetry translators. It has been published by THE EARTH CULTURE PRESS in June 2014.

When silence breaks out. Autobiographical sketch on the occasion of his first 70 years (1948-2018 ...) 50 years of poetry, short stories, translations and critiques with texts in nine languages and recent poems (2018) https://www.lechasseurabstrait.com/revue/spip.php?rubrique1466 June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The lonely song of birds (2020) The torn song of the gods (2020) The prisoner of the Andes. Poems and a short story about time. Will be published in 2021.

Poetry flies on the wings of language (La poesía vuela en las alas del lenguaje) 2021.

Stories: Rotonda de Gatos Ilustres. Pantheón des Chats Illustres - Rotunda of Illustrious Cats. (1st bilingual Edition. Embassade de France in Bolivie. Alliance Française. Plural Editores. La Paz, Bolivia, 2007).

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https://www.lechasseurabstrait.com/revue/IMG/pdf_Rotonda_de_gatos.pdf

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Umid Ali BABUR Feelings of hazrat Babur after eating a slice of the melon which delivered form Homeland.

The melon cleaved tongue and soul too, Nostalgia cut into slices – a sharp grief.

A sorrow became companion rather than happiness, On the glorious way night and day

Every moment a soul flutters, Every moment an embodiment misses.

In the moment the tongue seals, “You became my dissatisfaction, Andijan!”

If a dove flies on the sky, Or suddenly the wind blows,

“Even if it is not from homeland…”

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Appears the spread of thoughts,

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I became a king in Indian land, O, but I still aspire to motherland!

I am alive however I will die thousand times, I have my sky, but I don‟t have the sun, the moon.

My soul is burned in the fire of a parting, If only oppressiveness stops.

A soul is expiring in the storm of a life, And the edge standing while pierced to my soul.

THE FIFTH SEASON The colour sticks to my eyes, Or green, or red, or white and blue, Until now I didn‟t recognized, An alien colour – it is life, there is no miracle.

A sense will born soon, Neither gladness, nor care, but stranger feeling

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Not a blood in my tendon, rather a wine, I am the basin neither new, nor old.

My ears are slave for one melody, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Its‟ tunes neither playful, nor sad, My worlds fill with thoughtThe muezzin is calling for pray.

The lightning which lighted up my mind, Preparing the fifth season for me My feelings are painted… white, The world which I selected is real.

PHILOSOPHY OF THE COLOURS

I WHITEThe stone which melted by breath of the morning, BLACKThe tear which dropped from eyes of the night YELLOWThe ray which kissing the heart of the day RED-

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The tambour which filliped at the time of sunset GREENThe blood of a verdure which has spat out June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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BLUEThe last destination (place of ghosts)

II The clean smile – white, The weeping – black, The laugh – absolutely white, The tear – pitch black The feelings – green, The sence – red The love – quite green, The soul – a ray (God) The life – blue, The age – golden, The spirit – divine,

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The soul… colorless

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Umid Ali (Kuchimov) was born in 1978 in the village of Joyisay, Samarkand District, Samarkand Region, Republic of Uzbekistan. From 1997 to 2001 he studied at the Samarkand State University named after Alisher Navoi and received a bachelor's degree in Uzbek philology.

From November 2003 to the present time he has been working as a proofreader, head of department, editor, deputy editor-in-chief of the newspapers "Erudit", "Alo Kaifiyat", "Bekajon" Afrosiab at the Creative Center LLC "Erudit".

The first literary works were published in regional newspapers and republican publications. The first collection of poems by Umid Ali “Dilmohim” was published in 2005 by “Yangi Asr Avlodi” publishing house. After that, collections of poetry and prose were published, such as "Hello, sweet feelings!"

Umid Ali is also engaged in literary translation. He translated the stories of Ernest Hemingway, Ray Bradbury, Gianni Rodari, Ivan Bunin, Avetik Isahakyan, the story of Arthur Samari “Dardi Bedavolar” from Russian into Uzbek.

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His poems and stories have been translated into Russian, English, French and Spanish.

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Suchismita Ghoshal IN THE DYNASTY OF PROLONGED WAIT Faces are hazy, But the memories are as fresh as a germinated seedling, Mothered by the caressing hands of affinity, Nestled through the imaginary strong arms of compassion.

Have you ever looked straight into the eyes of my beloved?

Then you would know how thousands of suns burn and turn into ashes every pretty second.

An invigorated will spinning round and round in my head, Probably in search of the long lost solace.

A constant appeal beseeches for the affectionate mating of two minds; Hunger never ends in reaching destiny.

The nights feel lonliner in the captivating silver light of the moon That cajoles more, provokes more To desire for my love to embrace me tight.

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Traumas vanish away, calmness breaths in my eyes to make me sleep When the senses are awakening and tease me with the visions of him.

A distance of a few miles seem like crossing one lightning year, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Tormenting my entity with the poisons of detachment.

This very mirror mirrors the images of confusion, cantankerous cacophonies drumming on my heart with strong beats Making me a weakling child of malnutritious fragility followed by a scarcity of love.

Tiptoe in my world with the precautions and warnings of wretched heart Where I lack endearment yet memories play a profound game To regain the strength of hope.

Howling goes in vain and the tear drops evaporate unnecessarily.

I love more intensely and the moments slip away more, The tragedies keep on circulating But the pious soul never let the sacrilegious fouls imprison my mind.

I shall wait like a pilgrim for its pilgrimage, Until the clear visions of reunion Stain my canvas with the delicious colours of charm, love and peace.

I shall wait like an innocent child For its never-ending desire for a nostalgic rollercoaster ride of priceless childhood.

I shall wait like a devoted lover till

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The last breath in the dynasty of hard worshipping for her beloved!

~©storytellersuchismita June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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TRIUMPH IN BETWEEN THE PANDEMONIUM Strangulated mind, agonies all over the heart Peace fluctuates, comfort disperses As soon as it appears.

Storms under you inculcates soon But no hope left untried to ignite the fire within you.

Cajoling the sarcastic phenomena of superiors Fighting to be crowned again in the comforting chair of power, Whereas an invisible microbe ruling the deaths And continuous harassment of cruel politics Bottles up the innocents courting to the doors of death.

Kings, kingdoms and the eras of empires Have witnessed a lot of injustice embedding In the soil of my motherland

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But never the joker show of 'people dying left and right' been telecasted.

'Come here, try me', the voices are suppressed And freedom tastes like contaminated water.

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Incandescent enlightenment caters for The arrogant zeal of snatching justice Beneath the evil eyes of tyranny.

Come on, buddy, let's not lose hope as The real triumph lies on indomitable trials and bravery. ~ ©storytellersuchismita

The Monster Under My Bed the monster under my bed seems very punctilious never forgets to hop in my mind and knock me down in the times of darkness. his horrendous features fear me sometimes and sometimes don't, he adores me with his unkempt nails and smother me through his recitation, a minute reflection of horrendous society; indecisive i thought him once,

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but i smashed to the ground scarred and proved wrong. he narrates the stories of June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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disparities, vices, diseases, inequalities, riots, jealousies and hatred. i feel my ears dripping blood and feel like cutting them from listening to the future stories. the glass-windows, covered with the blurred smoke of malicious macabres that freeze my body down. i fear to turn into a stone one day, when my inability will write indelible stories of crime. i fear to collect more sins from the world and fear that i can't handle its toxicity like shree krishna once accomplished swallowing all the venoms of yamuna. my sunken body searches for drops of sap, drops of renouncing love and drops of my solace. the monster under my bed don't hear me the words of bedtime stories, hoax fairy tales and soothing lullabies, it whispers the chills of underestimated souls,

yet with their half-human bodies like creature they died like a proud human, preaching the treachery and tyranny of this world.

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the souls which never been approved as humans,

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and then he says, he was one of them, died out of a scarcity of love, an abundance of inhumanity. brutishness swelled us up, purring the words of aggression and war, and he died, choosing to be one monster, turning down the offer of an angel. my eyes know no bound, wailing for all the sins i've done and then he pacifies me, appeasing my inner anxiety. my depression wasn't the reason to prove me a failure, as he says i pet a slave named pain. pain of unwanted reminiscences. my scribblings are long for he blesses me with his magic wand, a wand of hijacking all the thoughts down to my feet and i write, write and write. having a feel like i don't write rants, as rants write me through the words they lend me them to decorate. the monster under my bed promises to remain the same forever, to poke me from time to time skipping all his heart beats while processing for a storytelling. a tinge of his love satiates my inner peace

appreciating the fear that keeps me sanely insane. ~ ©storytellersuchismita

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and i keep on going far, loving the way i appear,

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Suchismita Ghoshal hails from West Bengal, India. At the very early age of 23, she has shaped her life in a way where she cuddles with literature and devotes herself into finding peace through love, compassion, learning & community service. With an academic career in science till graduation, she is currently pursuing her masters in business administration ( MBA) from the renowned GD Goenka University in Gurgaon, Haryana. Besides that, she is a professional writer, published author, internationally acclaimed poet, literary critic, literary influencer, content writing member for WEST BENGAL UNITED NATIONS YOUTH ASSOCIATION, INTERNATIONAL ORGANISATION OF UNITED NATIONS VOLUNTEERS & HELPING HAND INTERNATIONAL ORGANISATION, change-activist & a nature lover. With more than 500 coveted co-authorship in various renowned national & international anthologies, prestigious literary magazines, websites, webzines and eminent literary journals, she fosters to carry forward her literary career in a more prominent way. She has also authored 3 poetry books by the name of "Fields of Sonnet", " Poetries in Quarantine" & "Emotions & Tantrums". She has an enormous number of accolades and highly elegant achievements entangled with her name. Few of them are enlisted below : 1) REX KARMAVEER CHAKRA AWARD( instituted by iCONGO and powered by UNITED NATIONS), 2)AUTHOR PAGES BEST WOMAN WRITER AWARD 2020, 3)INDIAN YOUTH GENIUS AWARD 2020,

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4) INDIAN YOUTH STAR AWARDS 2020, 5) AAGHAAZ 2K20 AWARD, 6)THE SPIRIT MANIA INFLUENTIAL WOMEN AWARD 2020, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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7)TOP 50 POPULAR AUTHOR AWARDS 2020 By THE SPIRIT MANIA 8) NE8X LITERARY AWARD 2020, 9) INTERNATIONAL GOLDEN AWARD by Deep Dan Foundation 2020, 10) INDIA STAR PERSONALITY AWARD 2020 by India Star Book of Records

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11) ASIA PRIDE AWARDS 2021 etc.

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Boat Art Omar Elfayoumi

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Nigar Arif The Wind Hey wind, knocking door to door, is that one door you're looking for, is that enough for you?

Where are they now, those open doors from the hot, sunny days of summer?

Where are those that loved you, to dine with and to rest; who once were pleased to welcome you and treat you as their guest?

Hey wind, knocking door to door, where are your lovers now?

Now the weather's turned to winter, have they turned cold as well?

Don't knock, my dear, don't knock,

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no one's opening their door, no one will look out for you, nor call on you, no more.

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Who, I ask, now the weathers changed, would call on you at all?

Go dear, go.

Just wander round these dull grey streets and break dry trees in anger; just wait as winter turns to summer and your friends, dear wind, with the sun, will grow again once more.

The clock is slow Look at the world‟s clock It's an hour slow.

Either joy is late, Or life is drowned by sorrow.

Even if it talks and laughs like a happy old man.

The world‟s laughs are lame

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as the tired past.

He‟s begging or seeking June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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with a wishful hand.

And spends the days on steps Fighting against the wind.

Out of the sweeper‟s eyes Falling his nights.

The broom in the calloused hands wakes up the sleepy streets.

He is a driver on the bus Passenger in the wishes, Looking for his fate With the hope to change.

Look at the world's clock It 's an hour slow.

Let‟s set up it anew, For a better life than now.

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When You Left

I used to see the flushed eyes of life June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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in the geography classes, I used to see the truths that erupted like volcano, and plains on which was creeping the lies under the truth, I used to see fell down knees of the highest mountains, The same wind was blowing in all countries, The same rain was raining all over the world...

I was a country myself, Yes, I was...

When I wanted to subdue the country like you my heart was shaking like it was an earthquake; sweet waters were running, pure springs were running in the bottom of the most rocky and barren lands.

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I used to see the beautiful faces of the best creatures in the far-off places...

When you left...

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When you left, I realized that human being is the biggest iceberg; he is melting for years

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and flowing to dying...

Nigar Arif was born in 1993 on the 20th of January in Azerbaijan. She studied at Azerbaijan State Pedagogical University in the English faculty in 2010- 2014. Nigar Arif is a member of the “World Youth Turkish Writers‟ Union” and graduated from “III Youth Writers‟ School” in “Azerbaijan Writers‟ Union”. She is also a member of the “International Forum for Creativity and Humanity” in Morocco. Her poems have been partially translated into English, Turkish, Russian, Persian, Montenegro, and Spanish and have been published in different countries. She was a participant of “ IV LIFT- Eurasian Literary Festival of Festivals“ which was held in Baku in 2019 and “30 Festival Internacional De Poesia De Medillin” in 2020 which was held in Colombia, "Panaroma International Literary Festival 2020" in India at an online platform. She participated at the” Word trip Europe” project, "100 poets around the World for love" and “ Fourth Global Poet Virtual Meeting 2020” as well.

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Kemala The Sea The beautiful sea holds hidden secrets The confident sailor knows the shape of its waves, at dawn and late at night, as his boat sails, a small dot on an endless ocean.

The soft breeze The cruel storms enrich his experience and keep him on course The sun shines the wind blows and his love never changes He loves the Creator

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trusts Him, does what he can and leaves the rest to Him. You are Holy, Lord, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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You rule the world, everything changes and returns to You My desire binds me to God He is the pearl hidden in the ocean.

He is the coral.

We cannot see Him but we understand Him through the living eyes of the soul

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Kemala , „Ayn Poem of Faith

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Ahmad Kamal bin Abdullah better known as Kemala (his pen-name), was born on 30th January 1941 in Selangor Malaysia. He completed his PhD in Malay Letters in July 2000 at the University Kembangsaan Malaysia. He received The S.E.A Write Award from Thailand in 1986.

In 2001, Kemala awarded Dato‟ Paduka Mahkota Selangor from The Sultan of Selangor to bring the title Dato‟. He received the State Laureate Award from the Malaysian state of Selangor (2005). He received the 11th National Literature Award, which carries the title of National Laureate. He received The Kathak Literary Award from Bangladesh. Among his works, Malam Perhitungan (Drama); Books of poetry: Timbang Terima, Meditasi, Era, Ayn (in Malay) and „Ayn, Poems of Faith (in English), Pelabuhan Putih, Titir Zikir and MIM; short story compilation: Anasir, Furuzia, Laut Takjub(in Malay) and An Ocean of Wonders (in English)

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Lily Siti Multatuliana My Sea, My Best Friend Scalloped shells scattered accross the beach It makes me injured

The waves are chasing me I‟m running to avoid it I don‟t like my attire to be wet

But the waves are still being waited Once it comes I ran again n again Get away from you The wave makes me scared

The wide sea borders by the sky The blue water seems calm There are no rippling waves

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The waves on the beach come and go

In the sea, there are the marine mammals June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The whale sharks, the dolphins, the blue whales The turtles, the rocks.

You are my sea my best friend

Suddenly the thundered is coming lightning flased

I m running to the house of love

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Lily Siti Multatuliana, Jakarta Indonesia

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Lily Siti Multatuliana (Indonesian) was born in Bogor, Indonesia on November 19, 1958. She is working as a lecturer at a private University in Jakarta, she teaches English as a second language and translation studies.

Lily had lived in Wolonggong Australia for 2 years and in Melaka Malaysia for 12 years. Now she lives in Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia.

Lily writes poetry, literary and cultural essays and she is active in reading poetry in various countries, such as in Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei, Bangladesh and Australia (Sydney). Some Poems and her Essays appear in Anthology with Asian poets and it also apears in the newspaper in Indonesia and Malaysia. She presented her essays at seminars in Indonesia, Malaysia and Bangladesh.

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“Sastra Melayu & Sastra Indonesia: Antara Mata dan Kalbu” (The Malay Literature & Indonesian Literature: Between the Eyes and The Heart) was written in Bahasa Indonesia by Lily Siti Multatuliana which was Published by the publisher of Kosa Kata Kita in Jakarta 2018. This book is the result of study literary works in Malaysia and in Indonesia.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Fares Saeed Ghalib Al Janadi Mirage at the abyss of a ray light ?

Mistery at the corner As if a wholesome was torn in vain In a position he was defeated From a mirage with illusion Once ignites And another time dampens.

Butterflies here do not age, Lines wrap the scattered autumn lights Between city alleys drunk with cups,

Rain washes a poem Not completed in his hands From a gasp throwing blood at the sidewalk

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Coagulating in the liver arteries,

How can the wind Recite The Observance chapter, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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When it broke its wings In yesterday‟s journey Gone and not coming back,

Mirrors that fight Are put in a corner After they scrath their surfaces Like a guard Shackled By a thief After he was in a detestable slumber intuition

No You No Twilight No Dawn Both of us became ashes in which the wind believed

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)Translated by Taghrid Bou Merhi(

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Fares Saeed Ghalib Hassan Moqbel Al-Janadi was born in 1990 In his hometown, the village of Houb Al-Rabat - Al-Janad area - the isolation of Arabs - Jabal Habashi District - Taiz Governorate - Yemen. _ He studied the elementary and secondary stages at Sabaa School in AlJanad - Jabal Habashi, before joining in his university studies at Taiz University - College of Engineering and Information Technology specializing in the study of Mechatronic and Robotics Engineering . _ He works as a Communications Engineer - MTN Yemen Company Taiz. _ Member of the Yemeni Poets Syndicate. _ Member of the Arab Academy of Letters and Arts. _ Member of the International Union of Arab Writers and Poets. _ Participated in preparing the ninth issue of the annual International Peace Review issued in Stockholm, the capital of the State of Sweden. _ Participated with a group of Arab writers and poets in authoring the second edition of the book "Al-Arabialein " issued by the Egyptian magazine Al-Arabi Al-Now. _ Participated in the Poet of Values Competition 2021, which evaluates the humanitarian organization in Yemen. _ Many Arab and international newspapers and magazines published for him poems and philosophical and intellectual articles such as Aden Al-Ghad newspaper - Al-Iraq newspaper - The Egyptian National Star newspaper - Al-Anwar Tunisian newspaper - AlAhrar Algerian newspaper - Al-Muraqib Iraqi newspaper - Al-Arabi AlYoum newspaper - Magazine Arab Pens - Al-Arabi Al-Aan newspaper The Lebanese Agarid magazine - The Kurdish Humanitarian Nosso Magazine - Al-Gomhoria and Al-Ra'i Egyptian newspaper - Afshin Kurdish magazine - the major Iraqi encyclopedia - and the Kurdish 24 site - and Akhbar Al-Youm Sudanese newspaper - Al-Ahram News Egyptian newspaper - _ Some of his poems were translated into English, Spanish, Kurdish and Bangladeshi languages. - In the process of preparing for a collection of poetry, which will soon come to light.

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Madhu Gangopadhyay THE PARISIAN RAINS… Everything about France is so romantic.

The Eiffel, the champagne and the French kiss!

That early spring when it rained at midnight The Eiffel drenched in luminescence bright Standing on Tocadero watching the divine magic The rain or the cold did not matter at all!

Palms clasped, warm breaths mingling; The vows of commitment till eternity.

Shivering, holding each other tight The city of amour their love abides: Those dazzling lights of yellow and orange, Those effulgent amorous glances: That cold midnight had blazed with passion!

That was two decades back!

Now alone in a crowd of revelers,

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The echoes of that Parisian shower sangRE: In the breeze, the fragrance of that love story hung Her entire being quivered at his touch; June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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She could feel him around, his warm breath, If only this midnight moment could defy death! ©madmusings

REDOLENT EUPHONY The raindrops crawled down the window pane, The waiter with the mug of coffee came.

The Choco lave oozing on the plate Those redolent chords strung.

A mellow euphonious feel Across the haze of rains Those charming youthful days That laburnum tree drenched In yellow; the ground beneath Carpeted with fallen petals: A sip of the Mocha, a bite of the cake The aroma of the chocolate

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Suffused inside.

Fond memories raked.

The same place, the same menu June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The same table, the chair in front now vacant Enjoying an Indian Summer with the bygone scent. ©madmusings

THE CELESTIAL COMMANDER!

Learn from twilight the art of a leader How beautifully it works!

With what impeccable authority it commands the dusk!

Gives a grand and regal adieu to the fading day.

And ushers the inky night in what an admirable way!

Learn how to merge the two, the outgoing and the new; An art so refined known to so very few!

Every time the one who had left whenever returns, Gives him that special regard, takes him back with warmth.

Learn to ingrain Twilight's grace, its immaculate style.

Love and respect one and all irrespective sans any guile!

Be it the fading day or the descending night Recognize each's specialIty and their quality right!

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Twilight in itself is an elegant, mature soul Admirably tranquil demeanor That parades on the horizon whole!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Yassin Harraz

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Madhu Gangopadhyay hails from India. Her passion for writing began when she was in school. She loves to pen down her musings at random moments. She is fiercely passionate about poetry and short stories, and her penchant for mythology can be seen in her works. She conveniently explores all the genres of poetry writing and has written on a plethora of topics. She has a Masters degree in English Literature from Calcutta University and a Bachelors degree in Education. She has been in the education industry for two decades now. She has also been a content developer and has designed academic course books for senior school students and colleges. A soft skills trainer, motivational speaker and an avid social worker: she is also an exponent of Indian classical dance forms.

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Mahanaj Parvin "Coffin" Death is coming closer step by step.

Here I'm lying on the hospital bed; 90 year's old.

Doctor message-'one week maximum ' The cheques come from abroad but no one comes close; But today there love is over spilling.

Once my health returns a little bit, they will start to grow impatient.

If I don't depart from the world within a week.

All these loved once will start to loathe me.

The 18th no coffin has already departed,the 19th one is waiting for me.

Tears drain from my eyes thinking.

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What a wonderful life it was!

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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"Autumn Catkin" Autumn Catkin are captive in the stars of my eyes.

My heart makes it interesting by responding to my songs.

The color of my Saree and the catkin merge into one and smile on my chest.

I lost myself in fascinated eyes in a cheerful mood.

Autumn Catkin;I love you so much.

laying on your lap,raising your hands,I touch the sky. white clouds play hide and seek with you.

What a wonderful look you have!

"Only you" I always think of you, My poem speaks of you, I can't forget that twilight, that old way,

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The way I walked hand in hand, The way I talked about love, That fancy weather, that path still haunts me today.

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The only dream in my heart, You are all mine.

I will touch the sky like a cloud, I will sing like a spring cuckoo.

Talk to the moon, I will be a lightning bug in the dark.

This path, the grass, the moon, the clouds are the witnesses of my love.

Very willing, still walking with you every afternoon!

When I write about you, I understand, How limited is my vocabulary !!!

Boat Art Mohamed Abla

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Mahanaj Parvin from Bangladesh. She's government school teacher.

She loves her job. She writes poetry and stories in her free time.She has own published book. Many of her poems and stories published various newspapers in her own country and abroad.

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Muhabbat YULDASHEVA STARS The feeble world‟s steady to widen, Eyelashes of mine touch the horizon, In the bottom of th‟eyes sinks the sun.

Silence gave forth a sudden sound, Pierced roofs and walls and th‟ground, Only hearts of stone, are silent.

The sun has drowned in my eyes, Moons are gleaming in the iris, Stars have fallen off the skies.

In the heart‟s blazed old smoulder, Nights fall back from its ardour,

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Moon and stars alight on th‟shoulder.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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RAIN The autumn rain is in a drizzle, The summer heat is vapouring up.

Making hearts miss and feel sad, The rain patter won‟t stop.

Drops are dancing on the roof, Birds‟re sheltered under cover.

Lightning, as a whip in flames, Has bosom of the clouds suffer.

Now sun‟s peering through the tears, Wet trees has dried up so gleesome.

On leaves quivering drops – tears,

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Here is to stroll Madam Autumn...

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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SPRING RAINFALLS Sobbed their hearts out The clouds in black distress.

They poured out their woes, Stroking, soothing roofs‟ heads.

Windows were all pleading, Weeping, beyond all hopes.

A dirty window was bathing, Opening arms to the drops.

The hosts of the grey clouds Scattered away, as abruptly Sunbeams painted the sky above, So vigorous and so lively.

The enormous gate of the sky Opened all of a sudden.

The Sun is Father o‟the heaven!

Translated by Munira NOROVA

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The world got light and bright,

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Boat Art Zakareyya Al Qadhi

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Muhabbat Yuldasheva is a writer, journalist, scriptwriter, movie translator. She was born in 1964, studied at Tashkent Polytechnic Institute. She is a member of Uzbekistan Writers Union. Author of 33 books.

Muhabbat Yuldasheva awarded with White Tablet short fiction prize for her fairy tale „Great Dairy River' in 2010, in Moscow, Russia.

Muhabbat Yuldasheva gained the 1st place of the International Central Asian myths, fairy tales, legends prize for her screenplay „The Koh-eKaf prince' in South Korea in 2013.

Her short stories and fairy tales translated into Russian, English, Kazakh, Ukrainian, Korean, Serbian, Belarusian, Korean and Bangla.

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Muhabbat Yuldasheva translated more than 23 serials, 400 movies into the Uzbek language.

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June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Sherzod Artikov CORTAZAR`S TOMB The great one`s ashes rest here In the cemetery of vain Paris.

Among strangers a lonely tomb As if staring into the horizon sadly.

From here impossible it is To see kindly land of Argentine The homeland where he was born The homeland where was spent His childhood and adolescence.

No, you can not see it, Can not see it at all, painful tomb It`s as obvious as Two and two is equal to four.

But, a stubborn grave Does not want to admit it

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And it`s capricious claiming To the gray clouds To a half-naked trees June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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That beyond the horizon shines

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The radiant smile of the motherland.

Sherzod Artikov was born in 1985 year in Marghilan city of Uzbekistan.

He graduated from Ferghana Polytechnic institute in 2005 year. His works are more often published in the republican inside presses. He mainly writes stories and essays. His first book “ The Autumn‟s symphony”was published in 2020 year. He is one of the winners of the national literary contest “My Pearl region” in the direction of prose. His literary works were translated into 20 languages. He was published in such Russian and Ukraine network magazines as “Camerton”, “Topos”, “Autograph”. Besides, his stories were published in the literary magazines and websites of Kazahstan , USA, Serbia, Montenegro, Turkey, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Egypt, Slovenia, Germany, Greece, China, Peru, Saudi Arabia, Mexico, Argentine, Spain, Italy, Bolivia, Costa Rica, Romania, India, Poland, Guatemala, Israel, Belgium Indonezia , Iraq, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Albania, Colombia, Сhile and Nicaragua.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Al Husini Ali

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Swapanjoy Chowdhury From Defeated Hiroshima Some ospreys are flying away from defeated Hiroshima The anthropological morning of history are warped with word.

They are flowing away from kinsman of Zoroaster to Bay of Bangel, It turned around from Sindhu to Greece, Roman and Africa.

An unknown hidden sickness draw the striped shape in human body.

I remind the pleasure-boat to see the fishless shining sea.

The aristocracy has gone through from the womb of pleasure-boat.

A haven angle busy for having the head of aristocracy And we are busy for counting dead body.

After finished to draw the tally of dead body one by one I count myself and obliterate the evolution silently.

If someone alive, he and they will pluck flower from garden of haven

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And collect green fish from torn history.

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Swapanjoy Chowdhury is a prominent poet, story writer and translator of Bangladesh. He is working as a Lecturer of Accounting in South Point College. Before that he worked in World Literature Centre ( Bishaw Shahitta Kendra) as an Assistant Coordinator.

Publication: Poem: Patangabilashi Rastraprem(2011), Kaljatrar Snigdha Fassil(2016), Droho Kingba Poro Nadir Srot(2018), Mayer Moto Pari(2020), Gohine Arannya Nadi(2021) Banlgadesher Muktijuddher Chora Kabita Songkolon(2008), Ekusher Chora kabita Songkolon (2010), Rangin Megher din(2012), Desher Katha Vabi(2009) Story: Jalpipider Bashatbari (2013), Dubechila Chand Nishinda Bone(2021) Editor: Literary Web Magazine `Shabdakunja‟ www.shabdakunja.com Facebook: Swapanjoy Chowdhury Email: chowdhurys55@yahoo.com

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swapanjoychowdhury@gmial.com

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Boat Art Gihan Souliman

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Levri Ardiansyah My Own Healing Presence Lucid thinking, I throw away all groane, Wished reach a wisdom peak, When the body becomes weak, Like a home without the support bone.

As coughing storm comes with a cruelty attacks, It feels excruciating, Inhale air troubled, so thin a breathing, And my power all slack.

Thanks my immunity flows, Til my own healing grows.

You are damned nonliving things, Trapping me became infected again, You rang the sirens wail, sounds are round me knelling, The weak body helplessly now tremble in pain.

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But I realized I‟m human, The perfect creature blessed with God's love, The Supreme Healer, The Giver of Life, By the power of God with an easy span.

I believe my own healing presence,

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I believe God‟s help will save us hence.

Banten, Java, Indonesia, May 9, 2021, Copyright Levri Ardiansyah

Do I Love Death?

If there‟s no death shall I ask „Do I love death?, Since their sad death narrowing down love, Illness has chocked millions of friends' frozen breath, Seized my rebellious soul far above, Fight in disentangling the fire broke, From the smell of death smoke.

A thousand wreaths have lost its beauty, Rotting afloat on the brook at flood, Round as withered flowers at sea of blood, And plaintive cry bursts the empty, The grief silences the spirit and the dust,

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The pitiless world at last.

Sad death I can‟t quell its heavy pressure Fly away I may not die a death June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Force the soul to follow death Stuck in the middle of awful leisure.

Banten, Java, Indonesia, May 5, 2021, Copyright Levri Ardiansyah Source: Levri Ardiansyah (@Lev RI Ardiansyah), “Do I Love Death?”

Facebook, May 5, 2021, 10.05pm., https://facebook.com/lev.ri.3110.

Levri Ardiansyah, levri.ardiansyah@unpad.ac.id, Lecturers and Researcher.

I am interested in writing textbooks, academic scripts, poetry, song lyrics and movie script, while maintaining my interest in administration, public administration, public policy and philosophy.

Name: Levri Ardiansyah Date of Birth:October 31, 1972 Profession: State Civil Aparatus at Universitas Padjadjaran, Jatinangor, West Java, Indonesia 1999–2018: Lecturers at Public Administration Study Program, Faculty of Social and Political Science, Universitas Padjadjaran, Jatinangor, West Java, Indonesia.

2018-2020: Researcher at Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs Center Unpad), Universitas Padjadjaran, Jatinangor, West Java, Indonesia.

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2020-2021: Researcher at Innovation and Corporation Directorate, Universitas Padjadjaran, Jatinangor, West Java, Indonesia.

Education Bachelor of Science in Political Science, Universitas Padjadjaran, 1997 June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Umida Khushvaktova THE SONG OF PARTING Today is a wonderful moment of autumn, The weather is cool, I closed the door.

Now the sunlight will not enter, But your love will not fade in the heart...

Loyalty flew away is like a bird, A moment of meeting is like an instant dream.

Now the sunlight will not appear, But your kindness will not fade in the soul...

I watched through the window, The night began, as if hope were gone.

But your memory does not evanesce from the heart...

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Now the sunlight will not enter,

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The narration of the love is almost over, But the pain of parting does not end.

Our book is closed early, I will always live with your memory.

I WANTED TO SEE The leaves of longing fell like mulberries, My beloved, I wanted to see you today.

My body bent over because of a grief of separation, My beloved, I wanted to see you today.

Where can I go to escape fate?

Time is running hurriedly as a wind.

My enlightened feelings overflow in my heart, My beloved, I wanted to see you today.

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While singing in dream the song of meeting, I live thinking of you day and night.

While expressing my torments to my soul, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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My beloved, I wanted to see you today.

Oh, the roads that enfettered by parting are far away, My poem is my word of truth, my intention is sincere, I am Umida, my hope is only you, My beloved, I wanted to see you today.

Umida Khushvaktova, Country: Uzbekistan Email: insidekashkadarya@yahoo.com

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Contact: Shahrisabz city, Kashkadarya, Uzbekistan. +998 90 3134300

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Sheena Chakrabarty Puchka The sensational taste, Reminds me of you „Dida‟, My palettes dance to every, Rhythm of spices used, In each little gol of puchkas.

Reviving my memories, In your green decorated Bengali styled kitchen, Your hand kneading the dough, As smoothly as you have guided me, Through our walk of life.

Stirring the aloo and chickpeas in your silver wok, Accurately blending the masala, For that spicy life,

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To keep the heart of taste perfect.

Zesty mint flavour to create the zest of life, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Slightly sourish tamarind to remind us of the past, Spicy green chilies to spice up the life, Jaggery to cherish the sweetest moments, Were your wise words, As you create the minty green sauce, For our little gappa puchkas.

Gracefully, You cracked the top of the puchka, Filling it with your tangy aloo, Drowning it in the minty tamarind sauce, A luxury tea time dessert, Filled with all the taste of life has to offer.

Dida, Puchka, A savoury of taste, You have walked me through the life‟s spices, Through your mouth watering puchkas,

Is cherished till this day.

Sheena. V @ Sheena Chakrabarty –

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Your love,

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SHEENA. V is the Head of Programme and a Senior Lecturer of Communication at a Private University in Malaysia. She was a Journalist and a copywriter before venturing into her passion for teaching. She has 14 years of teaching experience in her specialized areas of Visual Communications, Media Ethics, Journalism, Broadcast Journalism, creative writing and Multimedia, animation and gaming.

Her current research involves the study of media, interpretation of media, media influence on culture and how the media uses trend to create a particular group of society that is later categorized into subcultures. Her poems in Bahasa Melayu were published in the International Anthology of Poems „ Corona Gone by the Poetry‟ titled (Landasan Hidup) and Malaysia‟s Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka magazines - titled (Warna and Pahlawan Ilmu).

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Deepoka Singh THE ESSENCE OF ILLUSION LIFE Like a nimbus cloud, Some thoughts came passing by.

Life is an illusion.

Sometimes it gives us millions of signs, Signs of rainbow happiness.

The heavy rain wash away all our worries, And soon spring rejoices.

Seeing the azure blue sky, We tap our feet, We spread our wings of exhilarating joy, Our flight of joy takes us to another world But as life is an illusion, Soon happiness starts to fade.

And we entangle with our problems, We fight, we struggle, Oh! it's killing,

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We struggle to create a place in the society.

A man's life is like the weather, Sometimes it brings cloud of sadness, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Sometimes it brings rays of happiness.

Life is something, We have yet to discover, Joys, sorrows everything, That lives in our fate.

Life is an illusion, Life is a mystery, That we have to solve.

YEARNING FOR

In my next birth I crave to be a tree.

A big shady tree, My roots will spread to miles, And together we will foster our precious Earth.

It will be a hub of colourful birds, Like a mother I will do protect them in storms, And will never let them fall.

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Muscular branches will make the children swing, And their giggling sound will nourish me for ages.

My dry branches will warm a shabby hut, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Around the bonfire souls hum for free.

Emerald green leaves will give fresh breeze, And the fragrance of my flowers will purify soul.

My hunger child won't starve anymore, Juicy fruits will fuel their empty stomach for years.

My bark will heal the scars, And my wisdom branches will create a paradise .

ALLURE

Hello! Do you know me?

I come to your world silently, I give smile to your lips And rejuvenate your mind.

You nurture me, you adore me.

I am showered on my creators feet You pour me in demise and I hug them.

I add beauty to your tresses.

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Your beloved store me in her books And I live for ages.

I add sophistication to your delicacy June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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It's a legacy of different generations.

Oh! my clan is so colourful It makes Terrestrial Paradise.

Anthophila relish with my elixir.

I step quietly into your abode Unfurl eternal peace and tranquillity And I die in deep stillness.

I was I am always yours Your dear flower.

Deepika Singh from Margherita Assam India, qualification- M.A, B.Ed, teacher by profession. Her writings reflect her personal observations of day to day life. She believes that the right words can change our society.

Some of her poems also got featured in Bharata Vision, The Poet Magazine, Web Poesia, Womensweb, The Literary Mirror, Atunis galaxy poetry, Poetryzine Magazine etc.

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Full poetic name- Deepika Singh

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Dr. Debaprasanna Biswas Tiny partridge and ocean Partridge, a tiny bird leads peaceful life with partner at the bank.

But the ocean is so vast to deny the bird's status and rank.

In the shore within the sand the couple lives in a pit Generations over they live in a flock and never cheat.

One day lady partridge laid two eggs Lady on quest for foods never begs.

The master flying on and kept vigilant eyes Meanwhile wind blows and wave tries To overcome the beach under the sky Master became unmindful within joyful fly Finally marked eggs were stolen by the ocean He asked for eggs without adverse motion.

Repeatedly requested to give back those eggs.

Ocean laughed at the couple for harmless begs.

After several requests on and on

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As a head of the family angryed upon He scolded the ocean if you don't hear Just you see, I will dry you up my dear.

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The ocean didn't listen to him With a pride came up to the brim Master bird started carrying drops with his beak Observing this, other birds came to him quick.

Tried convincing him regarding impossibility At last they came to Garuda their almighty.

Garuda ordered the ocean to return eggs back Ocean listening the master changed its track Master bird having the eggs became joyful We get the lesson from the myth with mind cool We are with pride of science like ocean Underestimating the Covid virus motion.

Awaiting death Death is painful Particularly premature death Father is losing his son or daughter

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Issues are breathing last in mother's lap All human deaths are painful But inhuman deaths are more painful.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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When democracy submerged in autocracy Transition takes bath in the blood.

Young bloods are emotionally blackmailed.

The leader of the leaders takes oath in the name of democracy.

Once again tragedy ends with cheerful clapping.

Brutality caused by racisim reminds the awaiting death.

Covid is there Covid is there so we are to be more protective Covid is there so Mask, Sanitiser are essential Covid is there so to think of social distancing Covid is there so we have stopped running the train Covid is there so to stop all transport Covid is there so to stop social gathering Covid is there consequently school, colleges are stopped Covid is there so education is totally collapsed Covid is there so shops are closed for a stipulated time

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Covid is there so all the mosques, temples, churches are closed Covid is there but the election is not stopped Covid is there but meeting, rally, door to door campaign are not stopped June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Covid is there but social ceremonies are not stopped Covid is there but parallel teaching has not yet been improvised.

Covid is there so we are to be self centred.

Covid is there so let the world be collapsed

Dr. Debaprasanna Biswas (1948) is an Indian Bengali poet. He is a Retd. Associate Professor of Mathematics in India and Professor, Faculty of Science, Lincoln University, Malaysia. He is a member of different national and international literary groups. His poems are published at home and abroad and associated with different anthologies.

He is awarded 'Best Writer of the year 2019' by 'Bangabhumi Sahitya Parshad' an esteemed literary group in Dhaka, Bangladesh. He is different 'title' awardee in West Bengal, India. His creation is mainly on social life. He is a believer of humanity and universal brotherhood.

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Covid is there but should it be final conclusion.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Waleed Qanoosh

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Rezauddin Stalin All I Want Give me popped paddy and rice.

Give a kite in the festive day.

Give me a playground and a market place on holiday.

Give me all kind of folk songs and a platter full with betel leaves.

Give flowers and fruits and water in thirst.

Give me the path, give me the pier.

Give me the golden fiber of jute.

Give intact Hilsa fish and values and respects.

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Give me granary filled with paddy.

Give a good thesaurus.

Give ink of fountain pen.

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Appraise me on good jobs with hand claps.

Give me canals and swamps and rainbow in the blue sky, Give me a house with a door and morning with chirping birds.

Translated by Tuwa Noor

THE BLOODY MOON The day vanished at the sunset Gradually, the city became a slave of electricity Though it appears like day, darkness shrouds the entire sky And the white teeth of stars are scattered Like diamonds.

Mouth and teeth became bloody The moon became tainted with bloody red

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The trap of vampire hides within the cave of the flat.

Every day, people, being trapped, are losing everything June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Everyone follows the pidepiper of Hamilon.

No one knows where to go, like the puzzle of “Minotaur” Men, like lambs, are tied up in the barns of the witches As men turned into lambs, mice into owls The main source of income becomes the selling of humanity Once you sell humanity, you can achieve everything A festive bloody party is now going on in the empire of vampires.

The most precious fairy tales are burnt into ashes by the fire of festivitiess.

A gambling game will decide who is the fittest.

What difference does it make if the sun sets and night comes?

One has to survive in the darkness, fighting

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And being bewildered.

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Boat Art Abd Elwahab

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Rezauddin Stalin is a well-known poet in Bangladesh and beyond and is born on 22nd November 1962 in Jessore, Bangladesh. He has done his Bachelor's degree in Economics and MA in Political Science from Dhaka University. He is the former Deputy Director of Nazrul Institute where he was employed for 35 years. Stalin‟s poems got translated into most languages in the world and he is also a well-known TV anchor and media personality in Bangladesh. Stalin is the founder and chairman of the Performing Art Center and is also the senior editor of Magic Lonthon - a literary organization.

Rezauddin Stalin‟s total number of books are more than 100 now and his Wikipedia link is: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rezauddin_Stalin He has received many awards and some accolades are: Darjeeling Natto Chokhro Award India (1985), Bangla Academy (2006), Micheal Modhushudhan Dutta Award (2009), Shobho Shachi Award West Bengal (2011), Torongo of California Award USA(2012), Writers club Award California USA (2012), Badam Cultural Award California USA (2012), City Ananda Alo Award(2015), West Bengal, India, Centre Stage Barashat Award (2018), Journalist Association Award UK (2018) and Silk Road Poet Laureate Award Xi‟an China (2020).

His Social Media links are: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rezauddin22stalin Twitter: https://twitter.com/RezauddinStalin

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Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rezauddinstalin/

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Dr. Sajid Hussain Slippery slope in customs Storied customs stock stipulated reward, Strange wistfulness striking diversity, With stinted endowment of norms, Engraves the life with subduing influence, For subaltern attitude in submissive behaviour, With bonds of substantial agreement, Superhuman vigor pursuits for sullen submission, A straight way vanishes with stout assertion, Under the stormy passion of tussled association, With the shades of strained interpretation, And reflection of a strong aversion seems, In studious reverse from stultified mind, Stunning crash of straight forward logic, Falls before such superior skill of suppliant posture,

The supreme exaltation of swaggering bullies,

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In surging multitude with surly tone,

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Dominate swift transition in swinging cadence, Tangled network tardily recognizes blandness.

Sajid Hussain Pakistan ©

Load of life's foliage Loops dangle from strings of breaths, Folding vertical flickers coming back on, Curtains move with not ones grip, Some piles of sides boards, Discovering back stories in lush canopy, Burden of care over the years, A fake mourner at the walk, with, Dark tunnels of a subway making contact, Sealing rips of whoosh of air, Being thrown off balance putting low, A cracked pitted wind shields, Dusty vents fold my eyes,

Sinking dark smoke stains,

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Ripped patches cover debris,

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Still secrets being not to be revealed Fronds and snatches of life on ground, Knocked loose by wind on cliffs and rocks.

Sajid Hussain Pakistan ©,

The Return Whose meadows are more green, I haven‟t known, Some flocks are at the edge, almost, My bovines are lazy seeing me for stay here, Some beams of sun get warmth with burning, I can‟t stay here more, The evening is approaching with setting sun, In end of between two limits, morning and evening, Darkness is waiting for approaching, On the other hand the Calling shakes my chords, The only sound which grips my heart, The mead is lovely I want to stay here more, But my soul promised before the nativity,

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Before to long sleep I have to complete, I lot of my tasks before returning back, If there are some cast of drossiness, June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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My flocks may be less in numbers, I want for fill up with mercy of God, Still my herds are busy in grazing, They are wandering in search of the Shades, Fodder is in abundance in all around, My flocks will have to leave the pasture, The evening in approaching, Following the order of the Day.

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Sajid Hussain Pakistan ©

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Dr. Sajid Hussain -- from Pakistan -- is a highly educated and multidisciplinary Poet. He is a Master Trainer of "Low Cost and No Cost of Science Material" Homeo Doctor, senior teacher of Chemistry in FDE, and Ex-Principal of Jinnah Public School. He has received many courses and certificates from CIDA and USAID programs.

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Sajid Hussain is a promising Poet already participating in innumerable poetry contests world-wide while winning many certificates of excellence. He has written more than 400 poems so far, many of them being published internationally in different magazines.

He is seen to be published every month in Poets Unlimited, an internationally recognised literary magazine.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Sue Zhu The Wooden Fish Trans by George Onsy (Egypt) Let‟s Mediate How the wooden fish being hammered Thousands of times But still able to breathe.

It tells us that Survival always goes together with suffering You need to think of impermanence as normal

The wooden fish is silent Yet always awakened

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Holding tolerance and forbearance (* Wooden fish -- also known as a Chinese temple block or wooden bell, in most Zen/Ch'an Buddhist traditions, the wooden fish serves to keep the rhythm during sutra chanting.)

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Unforgettable Snow Translated by Sue Zhu ( New Zealand) Edited by George Onsy ( Egypt)

A few snowflakes moved ahead towards JiangCheng* ， gently touched down ashore until the end of the year They were caught away by the cruel cold wind, Recruited frantically the soldiers, the troops And the horses set to raid the city.

Everything was targeted No one was able to escape Now, all is covered with pale whiteness Faces, mouths, even doors and windows Are all, all masked The lockdowns have sealed the towns

From the Yangtze river to the farthest end of the globe Across the four oceans

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Horror reigned over each plain and plateau

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From one season to another

In the daytime snow is soft and sporadic At night, it is as hard as a steel block I can hear the branches squeaking out, Eaves being crushed, Avalanches roaring in the distance

Oh, elegant white elves, where have you gone?

Sobering at midnight, counting the sheep, stars and days in silence Peaceful holy moonlight Shines on the white walls and sheets With boundless mercy and grace People in their sleepless plight struggle to pray, Longing for the sooner “The rooster crow louder at dawn… "*

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(JiangCheng*: A nick name for Wuhan of China.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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“The rooster crow louder at dawn*… " This sentence was quoted from a poem titled "To the Wine" by Lihe who was a poet of Tang Dynasty of China, he wanted to say that when dawn comes, the night ends and all the truth comes out. Since the beginning of Coronavirus in Wuhan, it has spread to attack the whole world and people have been eager to know the truth about where it had come from in order to avoid it would happen again in the future.)

Every snowflake comes with its own metaphor A small butterfly sleeping on my forehead Must not have been in a dream cicadas singing around the red cherry tree A cloud of white butterflies Stopping, then gliding down

It's an unexpected moment an unexpected encounter with no reason For a long time, the idea of writing has been just raised up

quickly disappeared

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Its silhouette merged into the light source in the distance

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Oh, a tiny white butterfly has a noble rich past life flying out of the slender river in this life Bring its own mission to cross the sea

For the sky For the earth Or just for one person

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A Big snow falls deeply in his heart

Sue Zhu , she is a New Zealand Chinese poet , Artist, a member of the Chinese Poetry Society, a director of the NZ Poetry and Art Association, honorary director of the US-China Culture and Art Center, the NZ representative of Italy literary movement“Immagine and Poesia”, co-founder of the All Souls Poetry, she serves more than 20 Chinese magazines and poetry clubs as an advisor and editor.

Awarded multiple times in the Chinese Poetry Contest. In 2021 she got the Poiesis Award for Excellence in Poetry‟ in the Rabindranath Tagore Award International Contest, won the 2nd New Zealand CoCo literary award, Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021, In 2020 she won the Italian Il Meleto di Guido Gozzano X Literary Award, and was nominated for Pushcart Prize (USA).

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Dr.Raja Rajeswari Seetha Raman LIFE As evening falls she washes away anxiety stoically and soulfully at the estuary as river of hope refines life strongly and swiftly!

THE UNIVERSE : A NEW ABODE At daybreak i take a close look at the smile of the sun the sun is beaming with pride.

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At day light i look out for the dance of the ocean waves the waves are dancing in delight.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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At twilight i threw a look at the moon in the sky the moon‟s romance stirs the soul.

At midnight i caught sight of the trees standing in rows the trees put on their colourful costumes.

Nature is in search of a new abode a hospitable forest with no human chain.

THE SERENE BEAUTY OF NATURE IN THE SOUND OF SILENCE At the birth of dawn a sense of relief and calmness comes over me flashes of my childhood memories surface

a new entry in the History of Geography.

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a new home came into vision, taking a different spin

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Boat Art Israa Zidan

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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The Earth, the favourite child of the Universe, take delight in the New Normal ecological balance and harmony had taken hold of the power of integrity.

The New Normal takes possession of the Universe Crystal clear rivers are reflecting the sky the ocean waves are dancing in delight.

Glaciers are standing tall and proud Trees are wearing their colourful costumes Butterflies are fluttering their wings happily Morning glories glow and the sun is beaming with pride.

Wildlife is making a comeback Nests of leatherback sea turtles are now walking on beaches Herd of wild goats are on a coastal tourist visit Wild boars are seen strolling through the deserted streets Their majestic roar is now louder and stronger

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Nature is back to life again.

The beauty of the universe weaved in multi colours and voices are clear messages to the human race June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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of the longing of Nature to return to a hospitable forest which was once THEIRS!

Poems Composed by

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Dr.Raja Rajeswari Seetha Raman, Malaysia

Dr.Raja Rajeswari Seetha Raman is a freelance lecturer, a bilingual poet, certified translator, researcher, literary critic and essayist.

Recipient of twelve literary awards, local and international. Her poems have been translated into more than 35 world languages and published in more than 180 anthologies, local and international. Four of her poems are Malay songs now. The National Archives of Malaysia and The National Film Department of Malaysia has filmed her excellent contribution in the field of literature as a documentary film and broadcasted twice on TV1 in 2009 and 2012.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Aasia Majeed Funeral ceremony of a Red Rose O orchard, my family, fragrant and colorful Lily, Pancy, Sunflower and Daisy I am dying, heaving my last breaths Come to attend the funeral ceremony of this indigent red rose of yours

Jasmine my sweetie! Why are you opening your petals mournfully?

Can't you see me dying in distress Oft I changed my colours, it didn't violate the beauty of this lovely garden Lemon balm soothes me when I am forlorn For long I have become the victim at the hands of cruel humans Like chameleons!

At times I lost my innocence : my colours changed

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At first! When a father folded hands and begged for the marriage of his aged daughter He sold his self and soul to maintain the false prestige with expensive dowry How I cried on his grief when people crushed them both under their feet....

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Then it was on the day a mother mourned the death of her young son the last hope in the twilight of her life Silently I cried on the grave of this young man Who turned from red to ash!

I wept too on the day a wicked lover spoiled the chastity of an angelic princess With red ,pink roses,he compared her beauty Ah! I sobbed on her suicidal day and turned my color redish to black.

And now I'm dying again today When a poor boy who tried selling me in a bouquet running pillar to post and returning with empty hands With his family, I kept awake on an empty stomach This dissolute beauty of mine didn't change his fate of poverty My tears drip at the sharp thorns of this cruel world!

Marigold come and burry me with your purple hands so deep down I am a red rose anymore just a cactus..

Dreadful and pricky I'm thin weak and withered

So come and attend the funeral ceremony of mine!

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Alas no more dejection I can see

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Lemon balm- symbol of sympathy Marigold symbol of justice

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Aasia Majeed is from Pakistan and resides in Sadiq Abad city.At first she wrote child motivational stories and urdu articles...

Boat Art Kamal Abuhalaweh June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Pankhur Sinha In the footsteps of the previous one That I could recognize him immediately The eminent officer At first sight The officer designate The man assigned to kill me Quite frankly As the man who had come in the footsteps of his predecessor So audible was the voice of the state In both their footsteps The man who had come before Had questioned my credentials too Or may be They both had meant to complement me In very overpowering ways

All control over my own life The man who had come earlier

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In ways that actually took away from me

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Had taken an about turn Befriended me In some ways Although it actually was harming He had built enough public opinion Against me For this second man to come and kill.

For my assassination could have only taken place, In such a manner.

The man needed to befriend me And befriend me completely Inorder to problematize The firm ground on which I stood Such befriending 56 Pankhuri Sinha Stood against me In an era of great social politics But I could see

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The arms of the state The steel arms of the state In the elegant gestures June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Of the campus police Helping me Back off my car Connecting it To the very first day Of my arrival in the country When they had called To let me know How they knew of all of my doings And the meanings of it That will ever be deduced Or reduced They had called As the very first thing To let me know Of the ultimate reduction Trouble is They had also pursued me

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With a war not only of vengeance

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But of supremacy……………….

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

Boat Art Yassin Harraz

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Patient poems The ice cream today Was completely prescriptive Was taken As she began to feel the anger Unbearable anger In her stomach Eventually Trickling down From her brain All of the enzymes The names of which Can be googled Began their secretion Diagrams can be fetched I am sure Online

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But this is no myth That anger Of the kind June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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That she was talking about Was being made to deal with Produced the kind of acidic Alkaline Corrosive fluids That wrecked havoc In that wonder organ Called the stomach.

And in the brain.

To see it all The complete process In a video Would help more Meanwhile Ice cream. Just physically cools Down the anger.

The feeling is as real As physically feeling it.

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Except that anger Becomes as unbearable As pain.

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Calling upon fever Calling upon fever With a million gadgets of control Wired in Almost to your body Or to your naked brain With all its soft and delicate tissues Ruffled, trespassed, electrocuted Beautiful thoughts Stored for the next day All images, Pictures Deleted almost Sent away Cannot be recalled Vanished Disappeared in far off places The fading of human memory

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The end of the game Fever calls Why do they do it?

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Getting rid of the nurse Getting rid of the nurse Rather The nurse like vigilante The nurse But A nurse Is what I want What I need In the ward Where I really Need to be Want to be Although There are many kinds of medical Attention that I need Many medicines

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Rest End of all chores Freedom from stress June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Release from a prison Of people‟s surveillance Hospitalization Exhaustion Fatigue Weakness Germs Brought on Anemia Caused Problems of extra care taking People who take away My remaining coffee Move the plate I am focused on Away from me Its amazing How the well wishers

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Talk about the merits of eating less Even as you suffer from severe malnourishment Are being treated for it June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Of course, not to be forgotten Are a few preceding years Which witnessed the onslaught of Whats being called stress In common language Without describing The magnitude And the industrial scale of it Also the preceding years Witnessed the onslaught Of a rightlessness Incomprehensible Including The missing health coverage Which in itself Caused diseases In the land of universal care But stress, of course

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Is not a disease.

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Pankhuri Sinha is a bilingual young poet and story writer from India, who has lived in North America for 14 years. Two books of poems published in English, two collections of stories published in Hindi, five collections of poetries published in Hindi, and many more are lined up. Has won many prestigious, national-international awards, has been translated in over twenty two languages. Her writing is dominated by themes of exile and immigration, gender equality and environmental concerns.

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https://www.facebook.com/pankhuri.sinha.56/

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Dr. June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta “Mewadev” IN RHYTHMIC WAVES I know you can, and this I trust Faith in the king comes easily in lovely times, I am out of words to describe, no hope of doubt Sublimate is the speech of poetry

Attain the rhythm to be sublime; Universality is thy name of god intrinsic I symbolize the warmth of passionate romance This word is full of power containing beauty and love

Come and sit by my side at the briefing, The highest prize on earth's wide face!

The rest complains of cares to come

This sublime is the spirit of the poetry, it's wind invisible sweeps us through the world

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I mouth the rhyme of the lullaby in my heart for you

June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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Great words are soul of any speech Lay life on bed of present, clutch all the sweetness‟s

Heartfelt emotions, I fill your thoughts with visions sublime, To man's estate; and so from realm to realm Like a feather flowing through the breeze I compose the poem with pictorial words, and that balance is a virtue. © Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta “Mewadev”, Banda (U.P. - India) @ All Rights Reserved.

REFLECTIONS OF INTENSE PLEASURE Your touch on me, firm, protective, searching me out, To veil my true feelings in a shroud of dismay Though it weighs you down as you stride Why is it that I see my own reflections?

Around each other our daytime candle burns

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I am a product of my environment Love motion is in the air, a love no one can compare I desire, the warm sensation of your charms June 2021. The Silk Road Literature Series

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No past mistakes with the smooth complexions, Of you and your reflections In the delirium of what elation lay ahead A forge of love bidding invitation Sensually, I create sweet serendipity The feeling of completeness overwhelming, enjoying And to be present in all that one does, Sacred spirit residing in resplendence executes A supernova of our cosmic lust The room in slow motion, a world standing still The sheer needs of two people in heat, It has changed what I have inside of me.

© Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta “Mewadev”, Banda (U.P. - India)

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@ All Rights Reserved.

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Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta “Mewadev” H. O.D. (English) Eklavya Mahavidyalaya, Banda (U.P.) Home Add. – Mo. Sudamapuri, Jail Road, Near Sahab Talab – Banda (U.P.) Pin – 210001 Mob. – 9454173636, 88858138054 Email: dr.mewadevrain@gmail.com

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Website: www.mewadev.com About the Author: Dr. Brajesh Kumar Gupta “Mewadev” is a recipient of the Presidency of the International Prize De Finibus Terrae - IV edition in memory of Maria Monteduro (Italy). He has been awarded an honorary doctorate “DOCTOR OF LITERATURE” (DOCTOR HONORIS CAUSA) from THE INSTITUTE OF THE EUROPEAN ROMA STUDIES AND RESEARCH INTO CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY AND INTERNATIONAL LAW – BELGRADE (THE REPUBLIC OF SERBIA) and from "BRAZIL INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL CONIPA AND ITMUT INSTITUTE".

He has received Uttar Pradesh Gaurav Samman 2019. Presently he acts as III° "SECRETARY-GENERAL OF THE WORLD UNION OF POETS" OF THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD UNION OF POETS FOR THE YEAR 2021(3rd Secretary-General of the World Union of Poets, in order of time, since December 30, 2017 until December 31, 2021). He is the author of 8 books and he is an assistant professor at Eklvaya P. G. College, Banda (U. P.) and he resides at Banda (U. P.) India. Visit him as DrBrajesh, facebook.com/brajeshg1, email him at dr.mewadevrain@gmail.com, and www.mewadev.com.

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