Purple rage

Purple madness emerged with black death;
Drums and dulcimers are the words now that were said,
Shrilling masquerade dresses the faces,
Modern design and fool norms are the old disgraces.

Benyamin Bensalah



Standing on the edge of this forgotten galaxy,
we are guarding a life,
an innocent future
that we sent behind bars
to live on water and bread,
then we guard it with all powers
something that we didn’t let to live
that is already
in a place that has no escape,
but we are still guarding –
we don’t mind to look at it,
it would make us cry,
but we are the guards
who need to bear
the lost
of a life.

Benyamin Bensalah


Cecilia Meireles: ABOUT WHO COMES ONCE

She will come so late if she she comes once,
So late and so privately
That even the evening wouldn’t dare to see the seance
Neither the road she crossed quietly…
She will come so late and privately.

I had already turned off the lights
And while darkness covers me sadly,
In the depths of my loneliness, I stifle my sighs
From the bitter heat of settling,
While darkness covers me sadly.

And when there is no more question in my eyes
And the light of all memories went out,
Maybe you are just thinking about me in silence,
Who is slowly being brought to me by the road …
When all memories went out.

Maybe she’ll knock on my door too,
She doesn’t say her name, enters wordlessly,
By then, sorrow will wear me off half dead though
And I’m not waiting anyone to come carelessly,
When she enters the door wordlessly.

She comes in the quiet moment of the evening,
As a belated, long-awaited illusion,
She will be lovely thinking
Magic words to listen to in amusement,
As a belated, long-awaited illusion.

Maybe she will wake me up in the dark
Her word, which will be softer than gloom,
And we would stay there quietly, speechless, stark,
Not even knowing who we were before that room
With silently around us the gloom …

Benyamin Bensalah


Translated from the Hungarian translation of the Portugese poem of Cecilia Meireles, “ARRÓL, AKI EGYSZER ELJÖN”.


Fellows who have a thought of me,
have no grief on me or the events;
a soul found peace, a heart took a rest,
and many persons in me mends.

Fellows who have thought of me,
your presence was truly presents;
a boy who wasn’t meant –
thanks to you, had good moments.

Fellows who have thought of me,
have no grief, but even if you do;
mourn the life I had to pass through
since it wasn’t as I showed you.

Fellows who have thought of me,
my presence was only for you;
an ephemeral gift out of the blue,
a performance reaching the due.

Fellows who have thought of me,
what’s sad is the infinite possible;
how many wonders I could make real,
but it’s not eligible – I was impossible.

Benyamin Bensalah


Ma cabre

Every species developed their means
to perceive the surrounding
as well, every individual has its own design;
the birds crossing the sea,
the fish below where we can’t see,
the bugs dancing in ultraviolet.

So did I inherit and developed mine
of sensing this magnitude
to end my own design;
the trucks, the train, the cars,
the cigs, the drugs, the scars,
the heights’ and depths’ draw.

It’s ceaselessly pulling me hard,
sometimes I’m running
sometimes I accept this design;
pulling against, pushing for it,
crying – numbing, it remains horrid,
being in a force without control.

Benyamin Bensalah


False Reality

The years are already blurry.
They create a false reality,
my mind. I don’t trust what it is saying though
like problems will disappear by tomorrow.

As a naive child, I hope so too
that I will live, and it is true
that I will see a tiny part of happiness.
I might clean my sight from stress.

I want to see it, but I can’t
because I know it wasn’t meant.
As if there were no tomorrow, it’s in hurry,
this decade is leaving me with a quick sorry.

I’m lost in the dark and I’m afraid;
I myself got myself chained,
and I know I could be anything better
if my light had just a bit flattered.

Alone, on the last word’s right,
I say I won’t reach more height
because here, even my self-hero flees
from my false realities.

Benyamin Bensalah


Weakling creeking

*the door creeks*

“Ah, I’ve been waiting it for weeks.”

“It’s surely the Reaper, my ordered undertaker.”

*waiting for nothing*

“Maybe, he has another job. The door creeked, but he sent one of his slow helldog to do the job.”

*the void avoids my thoughts*

“Hellhound or a fluffy bunny, stop me feeling so numbly dummy!”

“Somebody, take my thoughts and take my voice! Don’t let it to be my choice.”


*no creeking*

Benyamin Bensalah


FML Alchemy

“Humankind cannot gain anything
without first giving something in return.
To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.
That is Alchemy’s first law of Equivalent Exchange.”

We start to live with full enthusiasm,
We get on high hopes a time to times,
We fall in love without expectations
Without nowing the prices.

Even saying:
Cheerly, dearly, fairly Mary –
Don’t fuck me up
I ask you dearly.

Human hearts were born to change,
You’ll be always out of range.
If it’s not change, something other,
Nothing goes in your order.

One smile a day keeps Death away,
but every single smile
makes you suffer a longer awhile,
crying rivers of a mile.

Life wasn’t meant to enjoy anyway:
Eat, survive, reproduce;
Why would you need other uses?
Your kind fairly reproduces.

Thinking, loving and other’s that unlisted
are the extras that are twisted;
pay the price of any pression –
reclamation’s out of question.

Smell in the air, see your level,
and be ready to reproduce –
Or live as you want, thinking Hegel,
but be ready to lose, lose, lose.

These are the rules of Freaking Equivalence;
Everything is in an Absurd Balance –
You’re on one side, but there’s another;
You quit or lose, none’s to bother.

Benyamin Bensalah