Tag: sad

Farewell

Where it will be gone
my pain
when it leaves Earth’s surface
leaves my body
leaves me?

Will it feel alone
without me
like I myself did
all the time
alone?

Will it miss me
like I did miss care
companion
belonging
in my life?

Will it miss itself
without me
like I did miss myself
all alone
on my own?

Wherever it will be
I’d like it to know
that it’s alright
and we did have
quite a road.

Benyamin Bensalah

27.03.2021

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

Nobody stays to understand me

        We loved each other, I did more than any –
      You let me push you away, so did many –
Why couldn’t you do a lil fight for me?

      We are not friends; I don’t have any –
    You push me away, so do many –
Why can you return then to me?

    We will forget, I will not do any –
  You already did, so did many –
Why you let it happen to me?

Benyamin Bensalah

22.05.2020

Another night without you

Another night in white smoke –
Looking at the stars that tell nothing,
Telling many foolish things about man’s nature,
But about us, nothing.

Another night in white smoke –
It relieves my soul that is my brain,
Curing a heart that now beats in someone else,
Take care of my world, darlin’.

Another night in white smoke –
How am I still here, so miserable,
The world around me is just pictures of my eyes,
Without you, nothing is real.

Another night in white smoke –
Finding a peaceful sleep to my chest,
I used to look at the mirror through you, having a soul,
Having a heart… and you know the rest.

Another night in white smoke –
It’s better now, but how’s the morning?
Oh, you who believe in God, tell him about your love,
That your love is dead and you are mourning…
Tell HIM, since he knows the best.

Benyamin Bensalah

17.09.2018

Poor’s Treasure

A poor room homed me in the childhood
With cold stone walls and a leaky stove;
Some days were spent under cover
With a hoody, a hat and pair of glove.

Nathless, there was no poverty of food;
My mother managed well the stew
With rice, potatoes and some carrots,
Her care cook’d a lot out of few.

Beside, the careless neighbours stood
With a lil bowl of sugar and eggs,
Trading on a sip of juice for gossips,
Paying the fee of the one who begs.

Way-outie, we were never even gloomy;
Despite the days of water and light off,
Mother managed the waves of hardship
Like the sailor’s star never falling off.

Is a grace of God, the unfortunate broom
In which I scarce tasted thick happiness?
Sugar tastes sour after golden honey;
For rich, my treasure was unhappiness.




I enjoyed the oxford blue sky of the moon
While mom sweeped the streets for stubs,
I jumped up moon-high finding pennies
Far away the parties’ hubhubs.

What a pity I feel now, for all the poor
Who had money, goods and no misery;
They know nothing what is life like,
But for true rich, life itself is glittery.

Benyamin Bensalah

04.03.2018

Peter Závada : Maybe

maybe it’s only the care’s false glamour
to believe: it is good for someone that you are
maybe only for that you are in need of someone’s amour
to make yourself believe that still lovable you are

maybe you never wanted to find her
it wouldn’t even hurt you if you did not
now, as she could easily be yours, maybe
it’s more important that she can be lost

so that you no longer have to blame yourself
because nobody wins this euchre
maybe what hurts you is that she weren’t really yours
and yet, you could still manage to lose her

Benyamin Bensalah

01.02.2020

Translated from the Hungarian poem of Péter Závada, “Tán” (2011).