Eversion

What brought you back at this time
when the color of grey is not grey anymore
when even the thought of death is not appealing
when the parade of dreaming silence became enjoyable?

What could even make your voice to reach me
when the sound of silence tortured my soul
when my ears are forced not to hear
when my heart is a numb pump?

What would make me to answer after all
after all I learnt how not to reply
after all our imaginary talk
after all the self-hate?

What makes me reply is the love,
beyond understanding,
beyond dimensions,
beyond the pain.

It’s just a hidden source
of an ever self-denial,
ever tormenting
eversion.

Benyamin Bensalah

08.04.2020

Probably somebody popped up in my mind

Probably somebody popped up in my mind –
Among all those possibilities
Out of the void,
Among all those responsibilities
I try to avoid,
There’s a beam of trust
That holds every doubtful thing as a whole,
That gives me and only me a role,
That keeps me human after all –
Monsters must or must not be alone –
Keeping you as my mortal and eternal goal.

Benyamin Bensalah

10.10.2018

Dedicated last hour

In the last hour, will I be less dour?
I’ve never been; in fact, I’ve been always keen
of knowledge and every passage,
trying to give a chance for each hopeful glance,
but in the last hour, everything ends.

It will be dour, but not because of the last hour.
Life always was an inner strife
from misery to misery;
to end it, doesn’t make me happy
just ready for the last hour.

In the last hour, something won’t be dour.
For once, I’ll have what everyone wants;
the loved one’s words in my ears
that will give reason to all my hours,
for what, I dedicate her my last hour.

“An eternity of gratitude
for breaking a little
my long solitude.”

Benyamin Bensalah

19.03.2020

My country for a horse

My country for a horse, and my horse for a girl,
Bearing the manner of the dearest creature on Earth –
The deserts’ life-saving waters are for her,
Just to see her again,
The antidotes of all the diseases on Earth for her,
Just to hear her voice again.

Since there’s no countryside so pleasing as hers,
Since there’s no thing so appeasing as her daitiness –
The gallop of her mind and the bounces in her language,
I’m in an old senile love with her seasonal changes…
Even after her mysterious disappearance,
Maybe never coming back again, but I’m looking for her.

Benyamin Bensalah

06.12.2018

Attila József : You made me a child

You made me a child. Vainly I was growing
thirty crying winters over the agony.
I can neither walk, nor I can sit around.
My limbs are dragging me, pushing toward you.

I hold you in my mouth, like a dog hold its puppy
and I’d like to flee from strangling.
The years that have been broken by my destiny,
are raining upon me in every moment.

Feed me, look – I’m hungry.  Cover me – I’m cold.
I’m stupid – give your mind to me.
Your absence is piercing me, like the wind through a household.
Tell me – There’s no reason to fear.

You looked at me and I dropped everything.
You listened to me and my voice got stuck.
Dare not to let me be so recklessly uncaring;
letting myself  live and die by myself amok!

My mother froze me out – I was on the doorstep –
I would hide inside me, I couldn’t tho –
beneath me stone and above me emptiness.
Oh, how I could sleep!  I’m rattling at you.

Many people live who are insensitive like me,
still, their eyes let tears out.
I love you very much, since even me
I could really love myself with you.

Benyamin Bensalah

08.03.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Attila József, “Gyermekké tettél(1936).

Do Not Open

Guilt-pushed wet pillow on my face;
What have I done? There’s no trace,
But there must have something happened,
There must have something happened.

I don’t know much what’s going on;
I have no goal, no role I could be living on,
I’m just surviving day to day,
Day to day.

But today – tonight, I opened a file;
Full of photos of a guy with the same profile,
But he is stranger to me,
Stranger to me.

On the photos, he was with a girl;
I would lie if I say I don’t know her,
But I can feel nothing,
I can feel nothing.

I don’t know who’s that guy;
He was so happy, but how and why,
How is it possible,
It’s impossible.

I don’t know who they are;
Why are they so bizarre,
They are a copy of me,
Were a copy of me.

That guy was in love with her;
Then, why I can’t refer,
What’s going on,
What’s going on.

You hurt and destroyed her;
But I didn’t even know her,
No, it’s all your fault,
It’s all your fault.

I’m guilty and for sure I’m crying;
I wish I could be faster dying,
Rather than feeling guilty,
While it wasn’t me.

I don’t know that guy, nor myself;
That girl must have left our self,
I am alone with my pain,
Who am I? I claim.

I sleep some nights or glance my eyes;
It happens: everything resets as lies,
But I didn’t mean any of that hurt,
I should have put out an alert:

Don’t approach; I may be fine today;
But I’m a new person every day,
Making you happy for a while,
Then, putting you into a file
With a lost profile
That comes out rarely
Feeling guilty,
Unhealthy,
Crazy.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.02.2020