“a Woman of Essence”-Jyotirmaya Thakur

“a Woman of Essence”Jyotirmaya Thakur

 “i am devoured… i rosed above myself.”

 

equanimity [philosophical definition] a self-restraint calmness composure

as i am carried by a violent turbulent  sea monster,

drowning can not win over me me! __ade c.

“I developed a stoic attitude and brought equanimity to my existence. I observe the world of suffering which gave a fulfilling purpose to my life. An attitude of ‘equanimity’; calmly accepting the negative aspects of life as a natural occurrence, which  touches everyone and everything periodically, and leads to a meditative state. I look retrospectively at my life and introspectively at myself, as to what is wrong with my surroundings; truthful assessment of myself; which provides guidance as to what in my character needs adjustment. “

     Jyotirmaya  Thakur  married at the 18age to a scientist in London UK… finds herself lost in the modern world of abundance and modern facilities of London UK.

HD final fragile jyotirmaa WOE 2019

She hails from a remote village in Bihar, where the roads during the rainy season is flooded and the villages are cut off from even the basic amenities of life for months… and coming from a conservative society, she learns the remarkable beauty of ‘silence and listen’, combs every word she hears,  more especially in her origin country, India, where a girl at a very tender age is taught to overcome any prejudices  (subjective) by being self-detached; as a neglect, be subservient; a normal phenomenon for girls as a daughter, wife, mother, and even as a grandmother.  

     In Uk, she took a postgraduate certificate of teaching English at Central London Polytechnic thence her world started for a positive direction without inhibition. “Peace within is not an easy process,” she says,“love, hope, gratitude, compassion, magnanimity, humility, honour, joy, cordiality, friendliness, dignity, humour and other positive personal characteristics can’t easily change the world by themselves, rather it is to understand the why the how the when the whatever is beneficial to me in relation with the whole of humanity.”

HD final jyotirmaya w:horse WOE 2019

BE CALM lN STORMS 

progress is impossible without any change 

change in life comes from inside

strength is in calmness and in clarity of mind

put the negative aside without reacting in the storm

win in calmness, in consciousness, in balance 

be like a tree full of fruits 

bowing humbly

when people throw stones ,

i oblige with fruits.

    

the opposite of anger is ‘to be calm in empathy

avoid all haste for patience is virtuous

calm mind adorns self-esteem and confidence

nothing gives a person more advantage than  always being cool 

calmness is cradle of power to be unruffled in all circumstances,

nothing is so serene than being cool as a pool   

don’t be a drama queen and avoid melodramas

life is full of strife and ups and downs

nothing lasts forever not even stormy days.

be at peace with yourself and let evil deal it’s rage

stay out of conflicts… be like a duck

calm on  the surface but paddling underneath    

stand your ground, be firm on your feet

Master your thoughts and never accept defeat

it is the strong mind that finds its way through

a thousand challenge of storms of difficulties

the day you let go of things that weigh you down

You will shine like the Sun silently on adversities.    

Jyotirmaya Thakur Copyright 

Asked when how why have you felt that feeling of ‘being self-detached’?

     “My knowledge, my love for less privileged, my energy of healing and my  inspiration poetry collections in books – Symphony of Peace , Melody of Love ,Rosary of Rhymes, Silhouettes of Love, Sojourn of the Soul & Canvas of the Soul, contain the message of faith , hope with compassion and empathy.  My book ‘ Rhymes Of Reality ‘, Feminine Portraits ‘ & ‘Spectrums Of Reality ‘ are about the suffering of humankind at large, showing a mirror to the society that gives me a ‘sigh of smile’ for raising my voice for the voiceless.”

   Asked what gifted talents that give her that ‘sigh of smile’ …of feeling complete…

    “ I have worked as councillor at many  charitable organizations in India and UK such as dealing with patients suffering from strokes; a school for girls in my maternal village; an NGO for widows and abandoned women;  and on drug addicted people… all these have had my hands full of satisfying and fruitful endeavours. I got connected to  Brainworks ASBISG. org. Neurological Impairments, a non profit support for caregivers, after my husband suffered three mini strokes in 2012. I thought of nothing about me, my body becomes one with them.”

Asked what how when why is LIFE LOVE PEACE…

    “This subject matter is diverse, examining humanity at an individual and societal level, with an aim of providing a template for a positive mode of human existence. Poetry is seen as having a role in this positive transformation, it permeates all society in many forms; a social force that is capable of crossing borders, putting ideas and people together in a memorable way. There is  magic in poetry that allows the genius of word ‘painters’ to illustrate the world and create. Creativity is a source of innovation, enthusiasm, experimentation and confidence, gift of talents, cycling in immense fun;  positivity and negativity  as a nature of life I learn to accept adjust with such humour and joy.

jyortiramaya WOE 2019

LIFE-LOVE–PEACE

Faith in humanity is only solution,

When hatred shall meet annihilation,

Divisions of diversity is only illusion,

Renew our values of true definition,

Celestial bonds of trust in celebration.

 

Let us hope for salvation of grace,

Divine being resides in every face,

Pristine protector of soil in trace,     

Sky’s the limit of human in race,

A region beyond religion we gaze.

 

Let us completely surrender to love,

in a world of terror, hatred and bombs,   

Mind is full of fear in terror of crime,

But believe in life, hope and grace,

Love can be solution to a world sublime.

 

Let’s nurture peace with care.

Embrace all religion ,creed and race,       

Forget the differences of diversity,

Accept universal connection of entity,

Unconditional gift of peaceful harmony.

 

Bliss is a divine blessing of Almighty,

It is the joy of souls in unity,       

Exuberance of eternal existence,

When world is full of love infinite,

Peace will be restored in blissful rhymes.

__Jyotirmaya Thakur©®..

Asked to  poetise her philosophical thoughts:

WORLD IS A MIRROR 

A Reflection of inner being 

Moment to moment we move within 

Loving people attract loving beings,

Spiritual energy increases without resistance

The truth takes us closer to divine self,

 Hurting others is hurting yourself,

all are one and became many souls.

The oneness of all… WE ARE ONE.

__Jyotirmaya Thakur, copyright .

perceptive translation :

ade caparas manilah

ade hd woe perceptive poetry 2019

 *author poet designer artist 

*dotism journal producer *philosophique poética  Co-Founder

 

WORLD IS A MIRROR 

my being is in it

i control 

its reflection

my soul decides

my body feels

my spirit images

in all  my actions 

my essence outbursts

fortitude equanimity continance.

comments

Dr Jernail S Aanand

philosophique poética  President/ Founder Poet/Philosophe

#4 W.U.P. poetencomium GALLERIA-JERNAIL AANAND

[To follow on final issues]

 

critical analysis

Prof.  Cijo Joseph Chennelil

Director philosophique poética Critic Author Poet

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[To follow on final issues]

“A Woman of Essence” Zana Coven

“A Woman of Essence”

une fleur y l’essence                              

HD zana final 2 

 

Zana Coven 

a poet a musician a linguist an artist

a dainty fragile crystal 

 

 

Zana

connotes “quick alert” 

an essence symbol

an eagle woman…

the “unstoppable” faith in herself

 

“Unstoppable” [ philosophical definition]

imagine  an image of a sax player at the height of an orgasmic unprecedented scale; two lovers arriving at a plateau of no return, where no violent winds nor rains nor swirling tornadoes can ever deter them. __ade c.

    

      A being is inside her essence, pas l’ essence inside her being, waiting to be switch on, to be nurtured, cared to be savoured, a paragenesis discovered__and once discovered, the unlimitedness  is unstoppable… a haemorrhaging laceration bleeding till the breath is gone… to be circling rounding again a cul de sac, tracing same routes, in another unstoppable plight, in the same  intoxicating sensual percussion of pouring sweats…

zana essence symbol woe 2019Zana, a name of Greek Hebrew origin, was born in Yugoslavia during the era of marshal Tito, when everyone could access the free acquisition of education in the knowledge of arts and science and language, exacting  a very minimal fees. Yugoslavia, former federated country that existed in the west-central part of the Balkan Peninsula from 1929 until 2003, consists of six independent countries: Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, North Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia, and Slovenia, now is non-existence.

       Zana, the little toddler mural-led  her home walls; at 8 years old, she thrilled her family with expressive hymns of saxophone and clarinet; and never a second without her parrot talks.

     Encouraged by all the appreciations and anchors   accorded  her  by her immediate families, more especially her Mom and Dad… she stood  up into a woman of multi-varied exceptional abilities in music, painting, literature and languages.

     The eagle woman  made sure she gets what she wants. “Everything i need to know is already within me…  all i need is to trust myself and act.”

asked about LOVE… 

She thinks Life starts with Love, exits grows flourishes on love and because of love, “we gain strength in health beauty intelligence that settles us in subliminal Peace.”   The loves her parents have accorded her, inspired her in finalising all her dreams and goals…  completely undisturbed by any outside senses__ “Today I am fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, Croat, Serbian, Bosnian ( the last 3 are languages of ex Yugoslavia). I write my poetries, short stories and travel books in all of these languages; i am in my utopic world of existence.”

asked about her roots:

     “My mother was more practical, she taught me, to respect rules, not break them; be persistent, sincere, confident, serious in every endeavour; finish what i start;  daydreaming is a waste of time;  respect others to be respected; be organized; persevere… while  my Dad led me to all my artistic inclinations.”

asked about her “sigh of smile”

     “I  have tried to impart to my son the same encouragements  i  have gotten from parents; i motivate his ways of expressions that would  lead him to find ‘his place under the sun’__ today, he is a young pianist, violinist and dentist and speaking many languages.”

asked her philosophical quote:

     “I can not control the external world but I can try to control my own inner world…  whatever is in front of me, i accept flex live it with outmost joy and comfort… i am my own happiness!”

poem 1 [in her language]        

Sama sa sobom

Tek kad prestaneš da tražiš 

I okreneš se sebi 

Shvatit ćeš da sve imaš

I svo je znanje u tebi

Tek kad prestaneš da lutas

I u glupostima tražiš mir

Bit će ti potpuno jasno

da je u tebi vir

Zato je vrijeme baš

Da staneš malo i dahnes

I sebe da sebi daš

Jer inače ces da sahnes.

Z. C. 1982

 

poem 1  [her submitted English translation]

Alone with myself

Only when you stop to look for

And you turn to yourself

You will realize that you have all

And that all knowledge is inside you

Only when you stop to wander

And in thrifty things look for peace

It will be clear to you

That the spring is in you

So it is the high time

To stop and take a breath

To give you to yourself

Or you will ruin inside 

Z. C.

works of Zana Coven

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FB_IMG_1558165600380                  FB_IMG_1558165549490

 

 poem [perceptive translation by ade caparas manilah]

ade hd woe perceptive poetry 2019

Alone With Myself

knowing i knowing me

as i stop to  listen

the inner me the inner i

is  i within me.

i walk, walk and wander

seek searching 

the sun the moon the stars 

O ! whiles of spring is mine

feel my breath my heart beats

look at me

i am the me

or i shall miss the am.

 

comments

Dr Jernail S Aanand

philosophique poética 

President/ Founder Poet/Philosopher

 

jernail s aanand

(to follow)

 

 

 

 

critical analysis

Prof.  Cijo Joseph Chennelil

Director philosophique poética

Critic Author Poet

22007934_491466917878396_3842141260921798346_n

 

(to follow)

Woman Of Essence: Poet Swagatika Samantaray

logo Woman of Essence final photo                                                                             

O lovely scent!  O petals!

Silent… how silent the Wind!

 

 

like a passing  wind

she is an enigma, 

a puzzle a conundrum… 

a tear, a smile, a lapiz lazulli, 

a few facts…

a thunderous lightning

a horse power of courage

her voice wanders 

shrilling whispering 

in the silence of her being.

 

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I shall feature les femmes Internationale literaturnus… poetries of their own country’s beautiful language, then I shall try to  translate the poem’s soul, heart, and spirit in the most sensual ecstatic intoxicating English Language… not literally, not word for word, but in words that languaged the thoughts. I call it Perceptive Translations!!! Then I shall create an impressionistic portrait  of the featured poetician.

__ade caparas manilah sydney nsw australia 02 may 2019

 

https://adecaparas34.wordpress.com

https://www.facebook.com/adecaparasmanilah/posts

Email Address: gmanilah@yahoo.com

                               gandahmanilah3@gmail.com

 

O! O! O!

WOE HD Swagatika final

Swagatika Samantaray

     her eyes her facial portrait is an innocence of a child… grabbing sucking her mother’s breast yet  her thoughts her soul has the richness of a thousand souls: the likes of a Simone De Beauvoir, of an Han Suyin; famous women  of philosophical thoughts __ only age 17 last march 2019 and only in her year 12 of school, her choice of words express an astounding sophisticate of contemporary language… She lives in India, in Odisha. Born and raised in the same place, she quipped, “I opened my eyes to this lovely earth on 432….4th March 2002.”

    

She started to write poetry at 13age, when they had a poetry competition at school __absolutely clueless on what to write, the recent massacre of 16 Dec 2014, still picturesquely afresh and grieves her heart, her subject was about a boy called Daud Ibrahim , a grade 9 student, who was absent on the very fateful day __ his alarm clock had failed to wake him up, missed school, thus saved   him from that tragic massacre his fellow students  met at the cold blooded terrorist attack. An emotional pathos engulfed her very soul… a contradiction of joy and sadness: of being saved and of losing all your mates in the Peshawar Army School attack. 

“When I sink deep into the whirlpool of empty feelings, I pick up my pen and write… an incident that stirs me from inside, makes me write.“ 

Someone says me, I am lucky

As I am the only one to be left

Standard 9 is now a history

And I am totally bereft.

I don’t know the answer ‘Am I lucky?’ 

To you if the answer does seem

Please tell me, it’s a request

I am Daud Ibrahim.” __Swagatika S.

Asked who is her inspiration, “My mom had always been my inspiration. But it’s not always the inspiration that you need… it comes spontaneously, like many a times, I would be wandering and there strikes a certain word or a theme, or a phrase. The feeling after that is unexplainable. You will feel it choking your throat, as if, it has to be spilled on the paper at any cost. And then when your pen is ready to bleed, your words come from their own. In poetry, you never struggle to write. Well, I believe that you never chose your language, your language chooses you. Usually my poems rhyme themselves. Apart from that, there is no particular style or form. Ah yes, sometimes I cry and then I write and sometimes I write then I cry. I believe if your poem can melt your own eyes, it will definitely trigger the emotions in it’s readers.”

Asked who are her favourite poets, “Speaking of favourite poet, well, there’s no one in particular. I enjoy Millay’s poetry . I love Frost’s depth of words and Keat’s style. Apart from them, I love Gulzar, the famous Indian lyricist. He makes you cry with his words.”

Asked whether public approval spells her meaning of success, “Public approval, though is an essential part, but it never defines my success. After I have emptied my thoughts, if I feel satisfied, that means I have succeeded. And when I see that satisfaction in my reader’s eyes, even if it meant only one reader, I feel complete.”

Asked about marriage, “I am 17 now, in my teens, far away from the chances of marriage.”

 

Asked about philosophical meaning of  LIFE LOVE SUFFERING: 

“Before you leave Life, make sure you have lived it.

 about Love, what is love if it can be defined by words.”

“And Sufferings, sometimes it’s the pain you need to feel alive. We all wish for our dreams to come true, forgetting that nightmares are dreams too. Of course, suffering is but the parallel aspect of living. Just have faith that one day it will be all right. I always said that my life was a black hole and I was drowning in that, and nothing can escape from a black hole, not even light. My friend corrected me saying that if the black 

hole engulfs all the light, think how bright it would be from inside. Just trust your heart, this suffering might be an ingredient for your success.

Let this puzzle of life stay mysterious.  

Swagatika-2WOE
Poem No 1 By Swagatika S.

Late in a moonless night,

Ages ahead of the common sight;

A dumb silence, a deaf solitude,

And a blind darkness, her fate had sewed…

All altogether had come to her place,

To the yard of an artist, an artist so ace;

Busy was she in her world of painting,

Trust me, those were literally breathtaking.

Her drawings were different, no it wasn’t our kind,

She drew those unfullstoped thoughts, crossing her mind;

Her skin was her canvas, the scars were the colours,

In the sea of her tears, the oozing blood were just rollers…

Oh my sweet darling, its my bet,

Bamboozled by life, her eyes had been wet.

No skin was left, it were all cuts,

But to choke her breath, she still lacked guts…

Tired of her humdrum life, tired of drawing,

Tired of being tired, tired of breathing..

Maybe just maybe, her fate would do her justice,

Might be just might be, The Judgement Day shall pay her paintings their price…..

A Perceptive Response __ade caparas manilah

To Poem No. 1

a lovely sunset setting

completes my canvass

O many full moons 

that had passed

highlighting  landscape of dreams

scars of lapiz lazulli

purplish monotones blues

flashing diamond dusts

such powerful transgressions

tickle moi 

to my most desired freedom

that of

Silence of Aloneness

alone and exposed

to this sentimentality

my consistent LOVE

YOU only YOU

my CREATOR.

 

Poem No 2 By Swagatika S.

In the cascade of dew, wrap me in your coat;

Let the winter shiver while your love chokes my throat.

Let the kisses melt down the infinite goosebumps,

Come on dance to its beats while your heart pumps.

Let four eyes close and one be the dream,

Hold me tight while the breeze does scream.,

who knows if one more day you can listen to my soul’s roar,

In all accents known to my heart, “love me a li’l more.”

A Perceptive Response __ade caparas manilah

To Poem No. 2

though my amourous petals

be painfully stamped mutilated

inflicted with shivering chills

that one amorous gaze

suffices  like heaven

ahhhhhhhh…

why must i wish many many more

“I LOVE YOU”

when one has killed me to my perfect joy?

Poem No 3 By Swagatika S.

I belong here not,  oh,  calming breeze

Let the eyes melt,  make them not freeze

I stretch my lips,  but they never smile

My death might be here,  within a mile. 

They say ‘Soldiers don’t have any fear. ‘

They have never looked at our eyes, dear. 

We fear if ever we’ll wake up to a  day, 

To find ourselves in the lap of our moms and say

“The bullet doesn’t hurt ma,  I know I’ll die. 

But before I depart,  I mustn’t lie. 

You kissed my cheek,  my heart envied it. 

So,  touch my heart,  before it stops to beat. 

Your son died for millions,  ma,  don’t you cry. 

I topped my test,  feels good to die.”

So,  oh calming breeze,  I belong here not

Bring me some air from my distant remote hut. 

Tell my mom,  her son’s last wish

Is to sleep on her lap with a good night kiss. 

A Perceptive Response __ade caparas manilah

 To Poem No. 3

 i, like a dying mushroom

succumbed  to the burning heat

but memories of

your soft loving pecks

as i run in my tantrums

permanently carved

my lips to endless smiles

the loves the thoughts you drew

permanently close my eyes to paradise.

Comments:

DR JERNAIL S. ANAND

Poet/Philosopher

President/ Founder: Philosophique Poética

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Philosophique Poética has always inspired poetry, philosophy and art. Ade Caparas Manilah ‘s  Dotism series has taken our flight further. Women of Essence is another feature which focuses on the rising stock of feminists. Swagatika stars as a Poet of Potential. In the beginning of her career, her poetry is marked with a vision of reality which appeals to the common as well as uncommon intellect. Reading her poems one feels lost to the power of her imagination. These are baby steps but very confident of themselves. If I change the date to next 20 years, Swagatika would be one of the top poets of the world. I hope 20 is too long a time for her. Good Wishe

DR Jernail S. Anand

Founder President, Philosophique Poetics.

Critical Analysis:

Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil

Kristu Jyoti College of Management and Technology

Director: Philosophique Poética

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 Swagatika ji,

Your three poems above do contain within their formats ideas related to life getting into an arena of imaginary vibrancy, unique suppleness, turbulent evocation and harmonious co-existence. The coincidence of life here is intermixed with life saving fate.The art is perceived here as the alpha and omega of life coming into fruition through elements so aesthetically fine-tuned and well-versed.The emotion of love plays hide and seek game with life, but the true life is everlasting and interminable and it can’t be wiped out from this world of many specialities and peculiarities.The personalities do get into that motion of different wavelengths working in coherence to produce the right result. The motto of life is philosophically contrived so that life itself doesn’t get into that pathway of shortsighted glory. The intricate version of life is intermingled with many discordant notes to keep in a state of readiness. There is no dearth of talent in this world to recapture the resplendency associated with the principles of humility and humanity. Still, there is that perceptible regret pulling the soul in opposite directions and that acute loneliness grips the heart in an enormous and substantial manner.Even then, nothing is lost in the wilderness because life is after all a work in progress. Kudos to you for composing such poems of regenerative and reconstructive nature.

Prof.Cijo Joseph Chennelil.

All Copyrights Reserved@

On 1st May 2019.

END

Woman of Essence

 

 O lovely scent!  O petals!              

logo Woman of Essence final photo

Silent… how silent the Wind

 

like a passing  wind

she is an enigma, 

a puzzle a conundrum… 

a tear, a smile, a lapiz lazulli, 

a few facts…

a thunderous lightning

a horse power of courage

her voice wanders 

shrilling whispering 

in the silence of her being.

23754819_10214579794273530_1584915404407636626_n

 I shall feature les femmes Internationale literaturnus… poetries of their own country’s beautiful language, then I shall try to  translate the poem’s soul, heart, and spirit in the most sensual ecstatic intoxicating English Language… not literally, not word for word, but in words that languaged the thoughts. I call it Perceptive Translations!!! Then I shall create an impressionistic portrait  of the featured poetician.

__ade caparas manilah sydney nsw australia 25 april 2019

https://adecaparas34.wordpress.com

https://www.facebook.com/adecaparasmanilah/posts

Email Address: gmanilah@yahoo.com

                               gandahmanilah3@gmail.com

 

Featured Poet:

Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim  

draft -3 myriam      “I began writing when I was 14 years old… I was then with a music group, when I stumbled, got hooked by a very interesting French poetry book, my song turn into a poetry__my poetry into a song!” Loneliness, a tear drop, death, injustice, the sunset adieu, animal and nature cruelty  are mostly the thematic sensuality  of her thoughts. She is much fascinated with writings  and poetries of Alfonse de Lamartine, “I couldn’t sleep without reading one of his poems every night.”

    “I write in French… its every word is so sensually descriptive and romantic.  I have no specific style of writing and no special form either; I feel my wings when I write as I want; no rules… all freedom! “ It is the least of her concern how readers would receive her writings, it’s the satisfaction she feels upon completing her created poem. “It’s mine, my story, my pains.” But of course, she feels so inspired and motivated when readers give their comments: good and constructive criticism. She believes it’s not proper to correct anyone’s poem nor render a bad comment__ because that is their soul put into words versing a language.

     Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim was born and resides in Tunis and the mother of a son, 14age and a daughter, 11 age. A world traveller, and lived in Senegal for 3 years during her youth, where people are naturally in smiles: taking life as it comes, sans dramas and complications. 

    “I think that we should live each day like it will be the last.”

French Poetry by;  Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim   

1  “POUVOIR S’AIMER”

Pouvoir tranquillement écrire,

Écrire pour le plaisir,

Le plaisir des mots,

Des mots pour effacer,

Effacer les vilains maux,

Maux qui vont blesser,

Blesser l’âme et l’esprit,

L’esprit qui va suivre,

Suivre des routes à l’infini,

L’infini pour vivre,

Vivre avec son cœur,

Son cœur, tel un navire,

Un navire qui va poursuivre,

Poursuivre le bonheur,

Le bonheur à donner,

À donner et à partager,

Partager avec de la bonté,

De la bonté et de l’attention,

De l’attention et de l’affection,

De l’affection sans l’horizon,

L’horizon qui peut bloquer,

Toute merveilleuse sensation,

Sensation d’être enchanté,

Enchanté de pouvoir sereinement penser,

Penser pour mieux se libérer,

Se libérer des fausses idées,

Idées qui doivent être nouvelles,

Nouvelles et être belles,

Belles comme les lettres,

Lettres que manipule le poète,

Le poète comme un doux esthète,

Un doux esthète, à l’intérieur de son être,

Son être est plein d’amour,

D’amour et de douceur,

Douceur de l’instant,

L’instant unique et présent,

Présent avec ardeur,

Ardeur pour toujours,

Toujours donner du plaisir,

Du plaisir à savourer,

Savourer et chérir,

Chérir cette humanité,

Cette humanité qui doit se réveiller,

Se réveiller pour mieux sourire,

Sourire pour mieux se réunir

Se réunir pour mieux s’aim.

 

Perceptive Translation:

 (as translated by: ade caparas manilah  based on the literal English translation)… in translating a poem from an original language copy,  one has to get almost into a trance to be able to experience the soul of the poem__ because  a word for word translation, spoils the ecstatic sensuality of what the poet is signifying.

 “POWER TO LOVE”  (“POUVOIR S’AIMER”)

in silence… 

i write… 

the depth of words

my joy my desire

that come and go

lacerations  bleeding

my soul my spirit

leads me… 

to life of infinity.

my  heart sails

O! __sailing like a ship

pursuing  happiness

sharing giving taking

kindness attention affection

no nothing can block

my wonderful feeling

my feeling of enchantment

my calm thoughts.

i free my being

detached from falsehood

birthing new thoughts

beautiful words 

turn to 

the Ecstasy of Language

moments… moments of

love sweetness ardour

to savour cherish care.

to dream of humanity

as a nest of love

that wakes up 

in music in poetry

O! __yes 

one day

with a smile

and shouting laughters

Utopia!!! by: __ade c.

   

French Poetry by;  Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim   

2  “Une larme”

C’est une goutte d’eau 

Qui ne vient pas d’un ruisseau 

Elle coule du coin des yeux 

Fait toujours ce qu’elle veut 

Elle roule sur la joue 

On l’enlève d’un geste doux 

Elle tombe, une autre suit 

Cela peut durer à l’infini 

Une larme de bonheur 

Celle qui touche le coeur 

Qui procure cette chaleur 

Et nous donne sa douceur 

Une larme de douleur 

Celle qui parle du malheur 

Qui apporte tous ces pleurs 

Que l’on essuie avec pudeur 

Une larme de velours 

Douce comme l’amour 

Une larme de satin 

Qui brille sans fin 

Elle a ce goût salé 

Celui des grandes marées 

On ne peut jamais décider 

Quand cela va s’arrêter…

by: Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim

 

Perceptive Translation:

 (as translated by: ade caparas manilah based on the literal English translation)… in translating a poem from an original language copy,one has to get almost into a trance to be able to experience the soul of the poem__ becausea word for word translation, spoils the ecstatic sensuality of what the poet is signifying.

2“A Tear”  (“Une larme”)

a drop of water

not from a stream

but from the corner of my eyes…

pearl rolls down on my cheeks

a gentle  pat to dry it.

one after the other

it comes it flows endlessly;

a tear of joy 

touches my heart 

with sweetness.

a tear of pain

speaks of misfortune

sadness brings 

these tears

i wipe with modesty

a tear of velvet

sweet as love

a tear of satin

shines endlessly

a salty taste.

the high tides of stream

come came come

when will it stop?

i wander i wander

it keeps coming!!!  by: __ade c.

Comments:

DR JERNAIL S. ANAND

Poet/Philosopher

President/ Founder: Philosophique Poética

#4 W.U.P. poetencomium GALLERIA-JERNAIL AANAND

 

 It is really great to welcome sweet poetry of soul from Tunisia….The poet……Expresses herself with felicity and touches themes which connect her to the immortal realms of life. It is right she writes poetry as it comes to her. That is real poetry. And Ade Caparas Manila’s Perceptive Translation is also a soulful touching of hearts. TEARS are a wonderful poem. It shows how she handles her poetic impulse. I congratulate the Tunisian poet and also admire  Ade Caparas Manilah ‘s highly  involved poetic yearnings. I am sure she will introduce more posts who are at the beginning of their poetic career.__JSA India

 

Critical Analysis:

Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil

Kristu Jyoti College of Management and Technology

Director: Philosophique Poética

22007934_491466917878396_3842141260921798346_n

 Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim ji, Two of your poems titled “Power to Love” and “A Tear” explore the inner turbulences experienced by an individual of aesthetic sensibility and sensitivity.The poem entitled “Power to Love” does dwell upon the concept of love in a substantial manner in which all its strands are dealt with adequately and aptly.This love is not a love of smooth nature rather it commences within the domain of emotional vibrancy but it encounters so many turmoils before it reaches that utopian shore of full-fledged happiness.The concept of love projected here comes across ups and downs and ebbs and flows and it also faces hiccups and glitches.The interior self is ploughed up by the impact of this love but there is an underlying joy born out of this feeling of love. Although, this love can’t be termed as bliss so present, even then it does have its own positives and negatives. At the end, the pristine nature of love is comprehended and life is bathed in its glory.

The other poem entitled “A Tear” delves into the psychological side of a tear and the deep-rooted trauma it evokes out of the individual in question here in the poem.The mental self is outraged, the emotion is swelled, the thoughts are preoccupied, the memories are perused and the life gets into that trajectory of agony, from such sentiments or feelings, a drop of tear is brought forth drenching the self from head to foot and in that process, the entire self is purged, purified and cleansed from top to bottom. A catharsis ramification, the self undergoes through this shedding of a tear. So, the power of a tear is overwhelming and formidable for the body and soul to regain their lost innocence. Kudos to you for composing such wonderful and marvellous poems of transformative pedigree.

Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil.

All Copyrights Reserved@

On 26th April 2019.

 

END

#14 “The Provocateur”

#14 “The Provocateur’ [Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

“enjoy love” like a concierto” (poeticized)

strange strange yet, i still love him__am i challenged?__ is it love?__ is it ego?… like a concierto it starts soft slow gentle gaining momentum, then bang bang bang as if in orgasmic moment!

ade in lucid reflection 2019

i miss that Silhouette

ahhhh… i love that distinguished walk

rhythmic steps, the graceful back arc.

as i sit in comfort

tracing the intriguing run;

in a rhumba sway!

his royal grace glows in his sophistication

ahhhh… i miss those days

when we would trot every morning.

we reach a beach shore

and he canters… then gallops

and i, in total surrender hold on the reins!

but love fades it dries it dies

ends in shouting bang

the slow gentle sway ends as in a concierto!

expressionism poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

16 march 2019 sydney nsw australia

#13 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting] shouting to exist

#13 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

shouting to exist

this morning, in the midst of an early sydney summer morning heat, i rid my garden of few wild displeasing growths, this satisfaction left my mid-finger in pain… ahhh arthritis! __and as i sat in my lovely pergola, my sight lingered… catching glimpse of a piece of 15’ log which i laboriously  dragged from the front public park some months ago in its abandoned state, partly covered of weeds, left to rot under rain sun, till that day i found it. Now it has age-dried to perfection.

hd shout for existence ade final

 

the lovely curvature

traced with knobs

of broken branches

the aged dents cracks 

chipping of its barks

complete the graceful 

nature beauty

of its existence

shouting to exist!

 

life is full of dented cracked spaces, broken branches of dreams, disquietudes chips of everyday breath, yet out of necessity, why not be an artist, a poet, an sculptor: be a creator; create your life… given the gift of intellect, feeling of freewill, subtlety, full power of creativeness… make crisis a triumph!

make nature a reality

discover the defects

as the central focus 

of beautiful existence

rather live in a shack

surrounded by greenery 

of herbs of fruits of flowers

than a concreted mansion who’s airfoamed bed 

is riddled with machines.

shout sing dance to exist

to the reality of nature

obey that necessary form

what the situation demands

be in love

with the wind rain sun

it is only upon fusion

of the contradictories 

shout for existence is heaven!

an expressionistic poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

monday 2:09pm 04 february 2019

sydney nsw australia

#12 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting] Truth is Death

#12 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

 Truth is Death

“the world, a weepy-willow tree, infinite in its droops a dangled chain… clusters of meaningless beings, born to live in the peals of distress and pages of helplessness… ahhhhhhhhh, INDIO, you agree not but asserted nothing! __ade caparas manilah

ade hd truth of existence

 

the truth exist:

i breathe

flowers trees birds houses books rains thunders lightnings

 

 

 

all things surrounding;

my passion my hunger my pain

ahhhh, the world is true

bubbling leaking themselves

as true 

sometimes as false!

but am i true?

you ask, “how are you?”

i reply, “fine, thanks!”

when  the truth is: 

i ache!

i am a weepy-willow… lacerated bleeding

but foolish, who acts not

waiting waiting ‘manna’ from heaven.

 

the ‘manna’ fails to fall from heaven

i need to climb up a mango tree

hold that fruity juicy mango

i act to have… 

the truth of existence 

my being is pronounced

surges in reality

i taste the fruity juicy mango!

my smile 

an appearance 

simulates  joy 

true…

but 

the falsity of joy is

i ache

reality of my being

truth identifies my being.

Assertiveness leads to the reality of my being, i.e. grabbing surging bubbling dancing singing writing… which is an actuality of appearances yet my consciousness is that of an infinite image of a weepy-willow; the truth… the revelation of may existence is ‘Death’.

a surreal  prose and poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

saturday 5:57pm 02 february 2019

Sydney nsw australia