Tag: loneliness

József Podolszki : If you wake up to that

If you wake up to that your pillow is cold,
and there’s no reason to wear pants,
if you wake up to that there’s another day
you have to pass somehow
for nothing, for no one,
if you wake up to that nauseous feeling
from the years ago consumed
sensless liquid,
well, if that is you wake up to, everything’s in vain
every attempt
because you have nowhere to return,
and the night is the worst refuge,
worse than the worst refuge
where at least fleas and lice
live their world on you
I’m saying if you wake up to that
that you are afraid even to fall asleep in the coming darkness,
then at least don’t brag like:
Look at me, I have survived.
No sense in late heroism,
look at the sun
spark in yourself
don’t burn loaned fires.
Then, maybe, there could be with you
someone
who’s also humiliated
just as you.

Benyamin Bensalah

15.11.2021

Translated from the Hungarian poem of József Podolszki, “Ha arra ébredsz”.

The Flee

You notice but my act of fleeing
with all my good that must be deceiving –
must have been it as you assume;
how else love could be taken to resume?

What deceptions were all those kindness!
How horrid, disgusting, heartless
is to love a day and another let it loose
as a kid who just cannot lose!

But the meanwhile I’m seen fleeing,
my heart’s size is bigger than a human being
because I’m giving the biggest gift ever;
loving and so leaving, since without me better.

Benyamin Bensalah

29.10.2021

Tmi

I wish I wouldn’t have known what was waiting for me
and compared to what – that hurts for real,
now, it might be easier maybe:
as the landscape would hurt less,
the loneliness
and the pictures of tmi  –
no matter how beautiful they are,
I was never meant to be a part of them, am I?

Benyamin Bensalah

10.10.2021

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

23.08.2021

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

The Walk

I can’t compare myself to none,
but to some images I saw on TV
how skin and bone lions abandon
every drop of zeal:

They walk, leave stone by stone,
kicking the dust alone
with a barren look on the barren
fighting for no more.

Why eating, cleaning? Where to go?
It’s a must to go…
Belonging to nowhere,
they are just in constant leaving.

They are unaccepted, exiled –
some days might’ve been different,
but now days and nights
conclude them as indifferent.

We are walking; walking is a must:
no place, no time needs us,
only escaping what remains to us,
then, we finally join the dust.

Benyamin Bensalah

20.04.2021

Play On

Have you ever asked the toy
you were playing with
if it liked to be your toy?
It is all nice that it’s a toy,
fulfilling its purpose
to play with, innit?
No matter leaving it
in the darkness of the night
for hours, right?
Or forgetting it in hurry
while preparing
for a hell of a weekend.
No thoughts of such
as the first minute hurts
just as the 1440th and so.
The minute of turning off the light
heading out or to the fridge
hurts the same infinity.
You haven’t thought about it
how is it to be alone
have you?
How is it to swing
between having a purpose
and being in senseful nonexistence?
Oh, how would you
when your grief lasts no more
than a minute when it disappears?

Benyamin Bensalah

06.07.2021

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

30.05.2021

Abyss warrior

Like a veteran Samurai
I am
when you choose me
to approach,
so keep that in mind.

I know no else than fight
that’s me
for the survival of mine
without meaning,
so I can live this life.

My life knows no past
no lies of good
I am just fighting blind
in no time,
so I can exist for fight.

My enemies are shadows
where I live
in a world of shades
without colours,
so I can’t go blinded.

My smile isn’t a smile
I am in war
all is hit and evade
for my survival,
so I can die just alike.

Benyamin Bensalah

18.05.2021

Transparenting

I had no viewing
on the children of my age
for a while

Happy playing
was the only knowledge
I had as a lie

While else were playing
I’ve been on a stage
for a while

I’ve been acting
pretending at a young age
that everything’s fine

While homecoming
has been an ugly offstage
ending in a cry

I learnt disappearing
while others had living image
from their bloodline.

Benyamin Bensalah

30.04.2021