Poetry

a selection of poems written at ufo studios

Haiku by Toru Taniguchi, October 2011

roughly translates as:

in the gypsy summer

the kangaroo man came and fixed the roof

beneath the roof the wannabe artists lived

***

Tihomir Vulchev,  28.01.2012

Мой приказен свят
в ранната утрин снежец заваля
с тишина да покрие земята

Зажадняла от глад
Небето приветства с гори и поля
в едно да се слят с росата

Ах, каква благодат
в едно да се слеят Небе и Земя
нима е утрото на тишината?

Колко приказен свят
колко бели поля
днес безмълвен приветствам зораta

Translation:

My fairytale world

In the early morning snow begins to fall

The earth with silence to cover

Starving from hunger

The sky is greeting with forests and fields

To merge with the dew

Oh, what a blessing

In one to merge Earth and Sky

Is it the morning of silence

How magical is the world

How white are the fields

Today speechless I greet the dawn

***

Mendal (for UFO Studios) 27.12.2012

Ocean/Bottomless

Some days you just don’t have words to say
sometimes you just don’t want to have eyes to see
sometimes you just don’t want to hear with your ears.
Some days you just know that it can’t be harder…

Then my friend, you are merely with yourself
Then my man, you are with no one else
so what are you really looking to…?

Drop everything what you have gathered
all truths and illusions, all definitions and confusions
before, now, after… all is just so partial

Life is so fragile, life is not an aspect.
Life is full of issues, life is so neglectful
Life is deeply soulful, life is illuminated.
Life sometimes is life, when you find
yourself on the edge of survival
Life is not an option, life is merely a motion.

Life is just a dive into
a bottomless ocean.

***

Margaret McQuade McAuslan, 05.03. 2010

UFO Studios

a new beginning

at a late stage

yet never so late as to be

not worth pursuing

much more that this

is the opportunity

to give something back

to leave the ever elusive mark

that makes it all worthwhile

and completes the journey

***

Dayna Buri, Spring 2012

Baba Marta Ivancha

a falling star

a whiskey night

conversation

by moonlight

gentle wind

the night is still

our laughter echoes

off the hills

***


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