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Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 9/7/2019

The sun has saddened its face
with lots of gray,
and made the mountains' bed
with an abundance of colors:

For Winter - it makes the bed with whites.
For Autumn - with reds.
In the Summer - with golds.
And for Spring? - with lyrical greens.

It has adorned everything
with shades of colors
awakened but still sleepy,
spoiling with correlation
of fiery greens.

Enamored time of red
of autumn colors
will turn the forest into one big flame
with fulfillment of flirtation.

A dewdrop sobs in the morning
put to sleep by dusk,
flying away as a wreath of rainbow
it returns at dawn.

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/15/2001
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
Like leaves

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 7/19/2018

If for the orphans of golden autumn,
Then only in a country where they dig out
From sycamores, beech trees* - among ancestors' shadows
Because these, constantly dying live.

If hands of the poor fall
Like golden leaves, without the law of gravity
- Then what must be never changes
And richer they die.

If everything ecloses itself in the space
Over the crowns with radial glow
Then nothing apart from this color will change...
They'll be reborn again in the multi-leaf tree.

Wieslaw Musialowski 9/22/2004

Beech tree is a national Polish tree often found in Polish poetry.


Indeed

Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 9/23/2019

Nestled into a pillow before falling asleep
maybe you will think to yourself
I managed to get something done today
and the rest? let it happen in dreams,

when you wake up fresh in the morning,
like the grass silvered with frost,
the sun will twinkle with a ray
and everything shall be great,

at midday, you'll sit under a tree,
because it's pleasant to rest in the shade,
and to end the day successfully
you look at the tops of the mountains

and you think how wonderful and beautiful
is autumn, luckily, the forest is not burning

though beech trees as red as fire

Wieslaw Musialowski 9/2/2019

*A reference to The 2019 Siberian wildfires.
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/1/2019

The most beautiful is the one who at the candle top
lives alone and this poem is about him:

tiny flame - a metaphor for life.

Przemyslaw Musialowski 8/21/2008
Only poems that I've ever tried to write myself come from a time when I was 22 or 23 years old and there are only few of them. Enjoy!
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/8/2019

* * * (A sad September is heading over the tops...)

A sad September is heading over the tops,
through the barren peaks suddenly turned gray.
In his heart hidden luggage of memories he carries,
and only crickets' farewell sails
quietly rustle with wind filled,
rocking to sleep dreams* unfulfilled.

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/27/2002

*moments in the original

Autumnal Hour (Shorter)

Look! - from smoke I plait this poem short:
for fogs over an autumn meadow
with heathers strewn and drowsy,
for stubbles, fields and forests - in honor - of bards!
I? - I know they're hardly rustling
the strophes of simple words... And you? - you weave sorrows!

Wieslaw Musialowski 6/19/2002
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 10/7/2019

So poetically the mountain forest shimmers:
yellow-gold chickens here and there,
gray guineafowls' small chicks,
and hens clad in red of the dresses.

On the edge in beads of flames
a rafter of turkeys - eye-catching -
therefore colors of colorful flocks of poultry
in dying green submerged are easy to remember.

The cold ray gathers goose feathers:
and from quills arranges an autumn mattress,
while the whitest down he'll embroider into hours

with larch needle, so that a pillowcase made of the rainbow
every year would bloom many times
on the dial of a silver cobweb.

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/27/2002
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
Jay Aug 2019
I'm tossin' around,
I feel like a clown,
The world's rollin' over me

I'm goin' to town
I keep fallin' down
This atmosphere's killin' me

It's been a long day
And the night is gettin' longer

I ain't no alley cat
Or a black and white striped robber

I need to go to bed,
So I'll wake up in a morn,
With some pepper in my step,
Feelin' like I've been reborn
But the clock is tickin' by
And the well is gettin' dry
So let's all go to sleep
For a while.
blues blues blues, I'm feeling blue
So,
Tryin to be independent of the venom inside my head,
This isn't dead though,
My eyes are red so,
I'm reaching the pinnacle,
Reading into the syllables,
Inside my head,
That want me dead,
But I'm not ready yet,
So I'll just say no to the infected perception of the world around me,
So,

Just relax,
Here I am.
Just look in the mirror,
Smile,
And jump in.

The water is cold and unforgiving,
The product of being so lost and feeling so
Dark, alone, but I'm never quitting, so,

Hold on and don't let go,
It's gonna be hard,
But don't let your feeling show,
How scared you are,
To feel the scars,
and free the arts,
of the real,
person you are.

Just show them,
You'll never give up,
Just feel the love,
and let it grow,
So,

Be who you are,
and don't forget,
when things are hard,
Just stare at the stars.

~Robert van Lingen
The rhythm is inspired by NF, and his music. Listen to "The Search" by NF then read this with that kind of rhythm, and that's how I envisioned it.
Evie Apr 2019
poets are the most fascinating of creatures
coming in so many stunning varieties
lyrical flowing words
hard arresting phrases


you are all creators of such intense beauty
Liquid Gold Apr 2019
Vegetable
Get a table to eat the fruits of your labour while it's acceptable
The chance that you will reap the harvest again is probable
You sowed the seed on good soil, you must have read the parable
The feeling of tasting your success must be delectable

Wrench
The tools you use to pull and **** will make you hench
The weight on your mind motivates you to hit the bench
High intensity workout leaving you with thirst to quench  
Hydrate yourself, don't sweat it, perspiration leaves a stench

Xenophobia
A fear of people of all races living in utopia
The fear of long words is sesquipedalophobia
A loop of horror, two fears that cause a mental dystopia
I need abundance and nourishment, pass me the cornucopia

Yield
Why surrender freedom when you can run in a field
Protect me from the evil ones, I need a holy shield
A massive sword of words is much easier to wield
No blood after the battle, no scars to be healed

Zen
I'm about to state something important, get a pen
Be young at heart, look at life as if you were ten
Question everything, when you get the answer ask again
Deception is at large, don't get thrown into the lions den
Challenge:
Randomize a word beginning with each letter of the alphabet and write a poem about it without using the word in the poem
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