War is lost—
But who’s the winner?

The other country?
whose street runs with pride,
but their children still ask
"Why?"

Or

The mothers of their martyred sons?
Those mothers?
Whose tears are falling, unlimited.

Or,

The child?
Whose brothers have been killed in that war?
Those children?
Whose tears are falling, unlimited?

The war has ended,
But who’s the winner?

But the Earth will remember—
The tears of those mothers,
The face of the weeping child.

The graves of those heroic people,
And the history will remember,
Those pride deaths.

The war is finished,
And who's the winner?

No one is the winner?
Everyone is a loser.

Orbita mi cabeza y confusa alma
eso que los cuerpos tanto anhelan.

Mi atmósfera, tan debilitada está,
que es incapaz de defenderme.

Aun así, dejo.
Dejo que en mí se induzca,
que eso tan anhelado,
tan cotizado como el amor,
atraviese mi turbia y contaminada atmósfera
hasta llegar a mi núcleo.

Y allí, transforme el maligno magma
culpable de confundir y desorientar mi ser.

Y me libere de no ser yo,
de la suciedad que no debería existir,
siendo quien quiero volver a ser,
volviendo donde quiero volver a estar,
a la serenidad, al sosiego;
volver a mi lugar feliz,
a mi paz mental.

Для кого ты вкусно пахнешь,
Отчего совсем молчишь?
Я не знаю, я гадаю
И душа моя болит.

Ни улыбки и ни взгляда,
Молчалива и грустна.
Для кого ты так старалась
Ненаглядная моя?

Мне неведома причина,
Я скорей тому виной.
На душе такая слякоть,
Одиночество с тоской.

Мало опять тебя стало,
Мало всегда тебя было,
Ты далека как прежде,
Моих сновидений подруга.

И прикоснувшись взглядом,
При долгожданной встрече,
Вдруг обжигаюсь мыслью,
Что же всё так тоскливо.

Спрятав порыв мечтаний,
Пренебрегая судьбою,
Жду, отдаляясь безмерно,
Заложником грустных раздумий.

Мало опять тебя стало,
Мало всегда тебя было,
Ты далека как прежде,
Моих сновидений подруга.

И прикоснувшись взглядом,
При долгожданной встрече,
Вдруг обжигаюсь мыслью,
Что же всё так тоскливо.

Спрятав порыв мечтаний,
Пренебрегая судьбою,
Жду, отдаляясь безмерно,
Заложником грустных раздумий.

—стихи сына

Молчаливо любить можно,
Сиротливо кутаясь в мысли,
Упиваясь придуманной ложью,
Ожидая ответного чувства.

Только сложно порой бывает,
Сохранить узелок такой дружбы,
В круговерти сомнений сжигая,
Изначальных порывов мысли.

И не дружба уже и не встреча.
И случайным прохожим мимо.
Как же больно нас время лечит,
Разводя одиночеством будней.

— стихи сына

Do you know
what it feels like,
to be all alone?
Like, completely alone?

I’m talking everyday
every weekend, all year.
Not just the sporadic
dry phone.

I wake up
heart pounding.
Who will I
spend the holidays with?
It’s August,
and I still don’t
have a family.

It’s still just me.
Alone.
Dinner for one,
too sad to
have a tree.

Smoke and mirrors
Haunt me still
Guess the jokes on me

From the ends of the earth

To the edge of tomorrow
Absolutely nothing
Could have prepared me

For the likes of you

Forever wasn’t long enough
Admiring you from afar
Wondering what

Could have been

Picking up where we left off
Some things in this life
Are just not replaceable

A blind date

Nothing ever felt more
Natural to me
Not in a million years

Did I ever believe

Would lead to some of the
Greatest moments of my life
Taking a trip

Down memory lane

For years
I couldn’t bare the thought
Of even entertaining

The notion

The simple truth is
I may never let you down
Tonight I pulled out

The song that

Would put a staple in us
That has replayed in my
Mind for decades

Along with all the

What if possibilities
That we could have shared together
But the honest truths hurt

Me too much to ever admit

That I miss you to this very day
And there’s a hole in my heart
That will never be filled again

Yesterday
while walking my dog
At the park
I saw a tall drink of water
A Winsome man who put us at ease
He’s saying his music to the air in trees
A genuine cowboy
From head to toe,

A cowboy hat, boots,Wrangler jeans
a rodeo belt buckle
Gave me a chuckle he sat
in a chair under a yonder, shade tree,
I saw him before he saw me

I mention if he sat there long enough,
He just might see
Eagles, hawks and a vultures or two
His slow reply
“ all I’ve seen so far
is a dog I once knew”

Lean back in his chair,
relaxing there contemplating
the morning view 7:42 am
By the time we finish our walk,
he was gone his melody, his song
still linger from the tips of his fingers

Today, sitting on a picnic table
The cowboy young and able
guitar in hand singing his music, he took a stand
(sundown by Gordon Lightfoot 1974)
“Strumming my face with his fingers
Singing in my whole life with this song”
like he was part of a country band

The minute we got out of the car he stopped,
Pulled his guitar down
I smiled when I spoke half in a joke
I had hoped  for a serenader or two
He looked up
Tipped his hat with a gleam in his eye
You were were you
as we walked by

Halfway down the trail,
I can hear him
strumming his guitar had much to say
Not singing just playing away

The soothing country, music,
gracefully in the air
birds, squirrels,  deer
Far and near
animals big and small everywhere paused
Ears went up twitching animals in awe
for a moment
to take in the one man band
As more people arrived for their daily walkabout

Simply honest, not to deceive
The cowboy quietly got up to leave
A Solitary man


Inspired song

1)Solitary man  (April 1966)
By Neil Diamond

2)Killing me softly 1973
By Roberta Flack

BLT Webster’s Word of the day challenge
Winsome  8-8-25
Windsome describes people and things that are cheerful, pleasant, and appealing