At dawn still young, a grey throat on the go
Rests on a branch nearby swaying with ease,
And moves from deep inside to edge below,
To please me, or to call the mate of his,
To swing and bend, balance against sharp breeze,
Seek a foothold, await if wind should rest,
And settled down when, sing sweet melodies—
Furioso and forte, full throat and breast,
Moderato when Vaishakhi winds rise,
The climax coming lento, shorn of haste,
Never to vie with winds, opting t’be wise,
Ah, my morning alarm and summer guest,
Who, when I peep out to watch sleepy eyed,
Far away flies in thick foliage to hide.
______________________________________
Sonnet |08.06.2024| Robin, bird
Poet’s note: Vaishakhi winds: pre monsoon winds in the month of Vaishakh, the peak of summer in India.
Of barren, coarse, of wrath I speak
Long I pondered my passage through the Gates
Now I stand at the prow surrendered and bleak
Sailing my gondola like an eel through the Straits
Where I am at peace with falling off the cliff
Whizzing like an ancient spear
Swept from the earth in the moment of grief
Seeing all the pictures of life in retro, my dear.
Whence I will see what I could not see,
And I will feel what I could not feel
The depth of the calm and the sea
In the palaces of nothingness where I will peel
Planks of carved wood
With the images of what is known as love
It- that once stood
Deep inside of soul, in the heart and above.
Before others I stood and swore,
Before others I happily kissed,
As Orlando Furioso, I dare not ever soar,
Eyes closed that will never be missed.
This life is toil,
Scuffed and scrapped,
Yet a heavy mortal coil
In its breadth and its depth.
My granddaughter loves me,
that's all I need to know.
I will let the toffs and profs
who came my way now go.
For all their disparagement
why should I have the slightest care?
My granddaughter loves me
and everything is fair.
Then hark my dear detractors,
and there are many I recall,
my granddaughter loves me,
and it's yah-boo to you all.
Inferno of Floods/ Höllenflut/ Infierno de inundaciones
Inferno of floods
After heavy rain in the mountains
Furious and unexpected
Death toll in muddy water
And nature will strike again
-----------------------------------------------
Inferno der Fluten
Nach starkem Regen in den Bergen
Wütend und unerwartet
Todesopfer in schlammigem Wasser
Die Natur wird wieder zuschlagen
-----------------------------------------------
Infierno de inundaciones
Después de lluvia pesada en las montañas
Furioso e inesperado
Víctimas en el agua fangoso
Y la naturaleza golpeará otra vez
-----------------------------------------------
Note: We had heavy flooding on August 7-8th, 2010 in Saxony
three people drowned and even more in Poland and the Czech Republic
Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
Flocks of birds drop from the sky.
They cling to the branches of trees,
replacing fallen leaves with song,
before resuming their long journeys.
(I am tree)
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
Stars move down the slope of night,
like footprints in the snow, left by children
who were skating on a lake,
before their parents called them home.
(I am lake)
Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
de tus manos color de furioso granero
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