Tag: sad

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 on 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).

Bye Bingo

My cat rests in peace now, no more meow…

No more meow in the morning,
At noon when it’s boring,
Stopping my afternoon snoring,
Nights with its purring.

I wish I had some time with him for last…

Giving him my sandwich he asked,
My bed at its vast,
Watching him in the weather forecast,
Seeing him again in the past.

I wish to recause all the pain I might cause…

Not shouting at him with claws in my leg,
After eating, still keeping to beg,
Pushing me away coz he feels swag,
Leaving indoor his crap-tag.

I just want him back…

Benyamin Bensalah

18.09.2019

How would I know

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

I’ve seen movies, I’ve seen couples
Doing things that I thought as love,
Pushing me to pursue love
With mere follies and troubles.

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

My own mother has loved in silent,
As young, I couldn’t even see;
How should I not be violent,
If I thought nobody has loved me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

Nobody showed me whom to love,
But I was told: not her;
Nobody taught me how to act in love,
Then, I was told: don’t hurt her.

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

With time, scars are healing,
Caused on and by me,
And with time, the truth’s revealing:
Love wasn’t meant for me.

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

I’ve been loveless all the time;
It pursued me to search it,
But all stories end in painful rhyme;
I hope, finally, I learnt it.

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has shown me?

How would I know how to love,
If nobody has taught me?

Benyamin Bensalah

26.12.2019