A BREATH OF AIR!

Who forbids me to tell you what hurt me
on the way home?
There was a lukewarm darkness on the lawn,
like velvet spray
and hurling without sleep under my feet,
as a struck child, silent growling was to leave
every tiny leaf.

Scouting, the bushes squatted in a circle
on the outskirts of the city.
The autumn wind stumbled cautiously right among.
On the cool mould
lurking towards the lights suspiciously;
a wild duck frightened howling from the lake viciously,
wherever I was going.

I just thought it might fall on me, who knows
this landscape is so deserted.
And here it is, an unexpected man comes,
but he departed.
I looked after him. He could rob me
since I don’t feel like defending myself in his arrival
while I am so miserable.

It’s kept on track what I called by phone
and when, why, to whom.
It’s written in files what I dreamed of
just as who’s understanding them.
And I can’t know when I will have enough reason
to unfolder that file-filled carton
which of my rights were sent to treason.

And in the country’s fragile villages
my mother was born there –
living law was falling like from tree,
as here these timbered-messages
and if they are overwhelmed by the adult misfortune,
they all ring to report a miserable warning
and they dust into portions.

Oh, that’s not how I imagined the order.
My soul is not so native.
I didn’t think existence could make it easier,
something that’s so deceptive.
Neither a people who are afraid when they vote,
with lowered eyes, considering a lurking note
and cheer up at its kaput.

I didn’t imagine order like that.
Though, if it’s me
Sometimes I didn’t even know why I was beat’,
as a small child me
who would have jumped to a good word right away.
I knew – by far my mother, I have no relative like they,
those were just strangers ready to prey.

I’ve grown up already. My teeth multiply
the foreign matter,
like death in my heart. But I have a right
and soul or clay,
yet I’m not like that and my skin isn’t so precious,
that I could handle wordlessly breathless,
if I’m not free!

My leader controls me from within!
Mankind, not wild –
we are minds! Our hearts, while mellowing desire,
are not data built-in.
Come on, freedom! You give me order,
so educate with good words, let play in disorder
your nice, serious son!

Benyamin Bensalah

14.03.2021

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Attila József, “Levegőt!” (1935).

Seek and Hide

Hide and then seek again,
Play and then re-play again,
Talk and then meet up again,
Learn and then take exam again,
Work and then change work again,
Buy things and then buy more things;
Infinite loop of doings
With finite scope of ownings
of the last peekaboo,
of the last win with value,
of the last astonishing taboo,
of the last bought thing seen as new,
of the last intercourse we are able to do
Leading to play and don’t play again,
Breathe and don’t breathe again,
Seek meaning that hides again,
After days until a day again,
Till not waking up again.

Benyamin Bensalah

06.10.2020

When you are not needed

When you are not needed,
You just make up things,
When you are not needed,
Things fulfill your days,
When you are not needed,
Dreams are just some things,
When you are not needed,
Things are just distractions,
When you are not needed,
Goals are just made up things,
When you are not needed,
Things are just frustrations,
When you are not needed,
Nights reaveal there are no things,
When you are not needed,
Things just fall apart,
When you are not needed,
You just wait the end of made up things.

Benyamin Bensalah

17.09.2020

The fight of life

Nothing matters in this life,
Just to show up yourself in the strife.
A win could easily satisfy,
A brute who’s familiar with the vie.

A lose hardly fags out a fag,
Who has friend and facebook tag.
Nothing matters in that strife,
Just to get out of it damn alive.

Dying is fair deal for a lame,
Who doesn’t fit this fighting game.
Also living makes little sense,
With victorious sadness in the glance.

Nothing matters in this life,
Only-only if one matters in the life.
Nothing matters in this strife,
Only-only if one matters in the strife.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.04.2016

Noted indifference

Darkblue sky. The Venus’s bright.
The moon’s somewhere. Stars are there.
I’m alone. As I’ve grown.
I’ve no goal. I play no role.
The stars are dying. But still brighting.
I’m not crying. But I can’t wait dying.
This night. This life is meaningless.
Just a primate. With extra stress.
Under the nude sky. With extra dress.
This moment. Small-time torment.

Benyamin Bensalah

24.07.2020

Galactic gallow

Like the bacteria living on volcanic sulphur,
I am doomed to live in my dark sepulchre –
no visitors, no wind-brought flowers;
I am mourning alone the longest last hours.

I am breathing agony like vaporized mercury,
hoping that some day will come to bury –
bury every feeling that cannot be beared alone;
finally getting along with myself, finding a home.

I’ve marched in the Pluto’s coldest valleys,
burnt my heart away on Venus’ alleys –
my galactical travel in the dark matter
made me a living black hole; nothing does matter.

I could be promised with another solar system,
another parallel dimension’s enthusiasm –
but the beauty of nature taught me already;
the paradise is falling, so be steady.

A dead organic organism, I am, travelling,
either escaping or sometimes just dwelling –
I will find no place on Earth, nor in the space;
Here I am locked down, and I will face what I am to face.

Benyamin Bensalah

16.06.2020

Time Murderer

My tears like rainforest would drop,
If I had pity on the talking beasts,
But my human memo has no more slot,
To endure the monsters of the East’s.

What a craddle! It’s itself kinda savage;
God condemned to desolate fever,
And its sons are themselves the ravage!
Eat! You beast till the word is over!

Nevertheless, I’d never lace up you,
Virus you are, but I let you be,
Only, take my words: fie upon you!
I write and my words let me be.

I have no holy mission to chase,
I am not Robinson! No-not even, Geez!
I’m not your Sherlock in this case!
I’m obsessed only by the time I seize.

I seize the time and it’s seizing you,
By fashion, fame, by food,
And by other worldly drugs to you.
Only you. I’m out of the mood.

Me and the time: Sparta and Athens;
We belong to each other,
In a lovely war that my mind imagines.
We need to kill each other.

Woe! There’s no benefits in my poems,
None gets salvation by my rhyme,
Nay they take me to the Seven Heavens,
But by seven verses- I killed the time.

Benyamin Bensalah

30.04.2017