Regret

I’ve never seen a word such suffocating –
such as regret.
I stuffed my already crowded mind with lies
such as I never feel regret.
I stuffed my ego with lies that I deserved this all,
and all the bad is out of regret.
I went dreamwalking with that chestboard in my chest,
seeing all pain I was used to, but regret.
While the word kept me chasing, just as my chest kept aching
from what I wasn’t able to see that I do regret.
My chest is opening now, with unusual pain that is searing me down,
but I’m somehow happy to hear that I do regret.
All the pain I caused, not just to myself alone, not just to the one I loved,
but for everyone who had to pay for my pain – I regret.
I don’t know how could it be possible now to be a better person from now,
and I really don’t know it like I didn’t know it back from now, but I regret.
This word is here now, that kept me suffocating – crying – waiting for answers in my hiding,
but I am free now; free as a hated criminal who’s not enjailed now, and knows only one word
only one word that he murmures alone:
I regret.

Bensalah Benyamin

04.12.2020, 04:20 am

Kata Csongrádi: SUNTHEM

The Sunbeam doesn’t ask
How much its light is worth
The Sunbeam doesn’t ask
What it will get in return
The Sunbeam doesn’t ponder
It just flows brightening.
Infinite caress and cuddle
but he does not ask for paying.

Love like the Sun, unconditionally
Like the Sun, which is built heartly.
Like the sun, born of light
Like the Sun, creating bright.

All people are a ray of light,
part of the universe
Who think they are just a byte,
But they are a part of the whole biodiverse.
All people are a ray of light,
one of the infinity.
All people are a ray of light,
but they do not dare to believe in reality.

Love like the Sun, unconditionally
Like the Sun, which is built heartly.
Like the sun, born of light
Like the Sun, creating bright.
Love by creating bright!

Benyamin Bensalah

24.09.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Kata Csongrádi, “Naphimnusz”(2005).

Life signal

Hey Dal, it’s Ben…
Well, what to say, it’s ten…
No gn8, no God bless you, no amen –
But I can guess it’ll be my fault again.

Though how you think is wrong,
Avoiding, closing you? No-no I don’t.
I’ve been just tired a long time along,
Talking about tiring things I don’t want.

Should I say how the Ogre drinks juices,
How his wife’s absence makes me brews,
How the future confuses,
How everything screws?

You know well, I’m not up to complain,
Not even to God, huh;
But this is how I bear the pain,
Silently, no blah blah.

I won’t lie, I missed you, needing a hug,
Something real like an electric plug-
A world of tricks and treats,
A world of sicks and threats.

I’ve just got tired of the song:
“Sehogy se jó”,
But don’t get me wrong:
Veled és velem minden jó…

So, just chill down and have your rest,
Think about our future nest,
Wachno- your bird is tired now;
Of studying, working, house or past… I don’t know…

Benyamin Bensalah

16.04.2018

Ab sense

You who can’t hear the scream of silence;
The shrieking loneliness of days and nights,
You who can’t see the shades of indifference;
The invisible sadness in the ever smiling eyes,
You who can’t touch life in ceaseless roughness;
The dried out face that only in the heart cries,
You who can’t taste the rejoice as bitterness;
The rockbottoms of an endless precipice,
You who can’t feel the lifelong unpeace;
The homelessness in roof disguise,
How could you understand the words of mine’s;
The life inside a violin’s fall and rise,
How could you understand Peace;
A moment my heart so eagerly desires,
Being absent on me in the whiles.

Benyamin Bensalah

31.08.2020

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

Appeal’ Tree

The land I walk on is itself talking,
Maddened by illusionary mystifying;
This is why, I keep denying
Dreams and reality.

Then, there’s a repeating vision
Of a garden having no age, no season,
Existing for a tree by reason
To name it: In memory.

What a dream tree is that, alas!
One shall build around it a glassen palace;
Its beauty holds sweet malice,
Intoxicating misery.

Isn’t it itself the tree of Eden,
Seducing and then misleading Adam;
Boiling the blood like opium,
Heavenly hellish adultery.

Its shade is ever calming,
Even if it’s not existing, it’s charming;
A Tree of daily harming,
Masochist illusionary.

Benyamin Bensalah

01.06.2019

Rare-view

Cloudy mountains brighten the sky,
Bringing cloumsy days and darken nights.


No weathering draws conclusion here;
Memories paint illusions there.

Where the thickest blackness is,
Dwells no rain, but the driest recklessness.


Where the beacon breaks the fleecy fences,
Dwell the drops of human senses.


Human hands draw but paradox,
While Paradise hides behind Gordian knots.


The beauty of mysteries ever hurts a lot,
Even dark miseries can’t clear its spot.

Benyamin Bensalah

27.02.2018