Attila Jozsef: (ONLY THOSE READ…)


Only those read my poems I tell
who knows me well and loves as well
as I am in nothingness, sailing
and I am good at soothsaying

because I faced in my dreams
silence itself as a human appears
and in my heart, there are sometimes mere
tigers and gentle deer.

Benyamin Bensalah

01.06.2021

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Attila Jozsef, “Csak az olvassa…” (1937)

Greek Fire in and out

I’m releasing less attention
because I’m breaking under some tension
from the rules of nature,
being this carbonic ape-like creature,
but I’m still doing my best,
still living even if pain’s ripping my chest.

The days’ve been heavy,
my rhymes have become just as wacky,
rolling down some short-not shots
while playing a lunatic, mad poet’s plots
with loneliness as franchise
that’s sad, not, until the wretch dies.

No harsh feelings, that’s fine,
I’m still holding the line and that’s mine;
I’m born with bigger heart, naive –
this is how I’ll leave, nothing more to achieve,
but till my hands can tremble,
I note myself down, so you can remember.

What a talent, what a treasure,
but has nobodoy to share this pressure,
talking as if it would be shareable
my crazy selves, nothing like cherishable;
no need of “pain, no gain” bullshitting –
I’m just here for some fire-spitting.

Dark, surrounding big-blue ocean,
I’m still burning on its surface in self-promotion;
my flames tremble, and are heavy,
none’s feeding them and I gave up already
since its hunger would eat up worlds,
but I’m just a poor poet who’s running out of words.

Benyamin Bensalah

24.05.2021

My Worst Poem

I was asked a couple of times
to choose my favorite poem;
what a rude demand,
how gross
just to choose for judging.

What should it be;
the most confessionalist,
something about nature,
mankind or poetry itself
while I’ve been just writing?

I can’t even choose the worst;
the most ridiculous,
something about whining,
one with bad rhyming
or one that doesn’t fit me at all?

If you read all my works,
you should know…
but why would you anyway…
so, I inform you:
I’ve been just writing.

Now, I call it my worst poem,
looking for my best of all
because at some point
we are the best and the worst
while we didn’t exist at all.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.04.2021

Pocket bard

It’s neither my pleasure, nor my style,
but I’ve been drinking for a while.
We already know it why:
some nights are just too heavy being dry.

I had been suffering and crying
even before alcoholic supplying,
but since I have it
I say: freck it.

I’m not looking for acceptance;
I hate myself even in this stance,
but surely I am passing time,
and I find words for my rhyme.

My dear Lord, Dionysus,
is tottaly not like Jesus;
he lets me do my own sacrifice,
and eases me directly by the price.

How should I thank him more
than just live and drink a bit more?
Life is hard even as a drunkard,
but it’s the life of a pocket bard.

Benyamin Bensalah

05.04.2021

Pooethics

Here’s the fellow who’s not mellow
Anymore
I’m born rotten and forgotten
Anyway
I had had poems, kind of solemn
Anyhow
But here I am with crying rhyming
Anywhere
I’m good in bad moods and vice versa
Anywise
I tried to be a smartass, but proven the least smartest
Anywhen
I’m still unknowing, and not going
Anywhither
I’m a born clown, pulling down
Anybody
I’m in a vortex, out of context
Anyplace
I can’t heal, I can’t feel
Anything
I’m surely nut and I am not
Anyone.

Benyamin Bensalah

01.04.2021

A significant moment

There are times when you want to see a movie
just for a scene or for an image,
to listen to a song, to recite a poem
just for a line, just for one word
that gives meaning to all.

As there are times when you live with someone
just for that colorless, wordless moment,
compared to the years being so insignificant,
still that moment means all what is life,
saying that you are needed.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.08.2020