A Wrapped Gift

The darkness,
The negativity,
The inertness,
Everything that you gave me;
The suffering,
And you specially,
Your jealousy,
Your infidelity,
Your cruelty;
And all this,
Without all this,
My soul has no inspiration,
Knows no salvation;
All is blank,
Everything is grim,
My senses are dim,
The radiant sun,
Gorgeous summer,
Twittering of birds,
Further away,
The white sand,
The crystal blue sea,
Do not mean anything,
Nothing,
Without you everything is nothing,   
Mystically a wrapped gift,
You were everything.
 http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

If I Could 

My poem ‘If I Could ‘translated and recited in Nowegian by my sweet granddaughter YANA at the launching of Soul Poetry on Sunday 13 December 2015 at the Gymkhana Club Mauritius. The birth of a poetess…
Hvis Jeg Kunne
Hvis jeg kunne gått over havet,

Ville jeg krysset verden for å tørke dine tårer,

Hvis jeg kunne slått ned et fjell,

Ville jeg bygget deg et hjem av sten,

Hvis jeg kunne dratt tilbake i tid,

Ville jeg bragt deg en giftering,

Hvis jeg kunne dødd og blitt født igjen,

Hvis jeg kunne stanset tiden,

Hvis jeg kunne holdt deg i mine armer i all evighet,

Hvis jeg kunne stanset mitt hjerte fra å elske deg,

Men jeg kan ikke gå over havet,

Jeg kan ikke slå ned et fjell,

Jeg kan ikke skru tiden tilbake,

Jeg kan ikke dø og bli født igjen,

Jeg kan ikke gifte meg med deg,

Alt jeg kan..,

Jeg kan gråte med deg,

Be at vårt forhold aldri tar slutt,

Be at vi ikke søker hverandre,

Be at vi lever i hverandre

www.poetryofanitabacha.com

THE SOCKS

In coils, like two cotton balls,
Coated with dust,
From under my bed
A brush stroke brought out the socks;

Forgotten,
Abandoned,
Consciously or unconsciously,
The socks you left behind;

Sad, blue,
Filled with bitterness,
The stare blank,
The socks,
I caught in my trembling hands,
Gave me a lump in my throat;

The socks recalled your being there,
Curled against me in my bed;
It was not a dream!

The socks made me a little scared,
Fear the idea that you will never come back,
To warm my bed,
To cover me with delicious cuddles;

The socks made me chuckle too,
Giggle at the idea that I had never seen such large feet,
Such big toes, teasingly tickling my feet;

The socks revived in me the great happiness,
These senseless moments,
When we both laughed like kids,
Happy to be together,
Pleased that we had met,
Pleased that we were in love!

– Anita Bacha –

Processed with MOLDIV

ON THE QUAY OF FAREWELL

On the quay of farewell,

In a covetous embrace

You gave me your heart;

On the quay of farewell,

You wiped my tears with your lips,

You offered me your eyes;

On the quay of farewell,

You spoke to me about your suffering,

You wanted my mouth to feel your fading breath;

On the quay of farewell,

You wanted me to remember your desires,

Your thirst and your hunger in-satiate;

On the quay of farewell,

You fumbled for the tenderness and sweetness that are in me,

That you will never find in another;

On the quay of farewell,

You hugged me tight in your arms,

You wanted to keep me forever;

On the quay of farewell,

Heavy as a winter coat,

The separation bent you into two

And,

You shouted my name ‘Ani!’

Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

 

IMG_7464.JPG

AUTUMN

 

The fall comes in my garden as a sorceress

The sky covering the morning sun with a thick dimness

Broom sweeps, leaves and flowers fly off in a maelstrom

 Cold downpours freeze the subterranean thunderstorm

Birds flee up in the skies with a scream

Trout hide under the stones of the stream

I look full of hope, my love, at the radiance in the horizon

No matter the rain, the cold, the melancholy of the autumn season

Whatever the absence, the long days of waiting, the starless nights

Whatever the tears, the suffering and the frights

I wait, mad lover that I am, for your return in spring

Linger for the promised kisses, the delirious frolics in the field   

I dream of the elating scent of the rose on your tanned skin

I dream of poppies crushing on your mouth my stolen longing

Anita Bacha

acclimatation-of-francis-apied

Illustration/Artist/Francis Apied

WHO ARE YOU GOD?

WHO ARE YOU, GOD?

I touch your cheek,

I look into your eyes,

I see the pain,

I see the suffering.

You touch my cheek,

You look into my eyes,

You see the pain,

You see the suffering.

I am not your wife,

You are not my husband,

I am not your mother,

You are not my son.

Who am I?

Who are you?

I am the God within,

You are the God within,

You and I are ONE,

We are GOD!

Anita Bacha

(Excerpt from MY JOURNEY WITH GOD- 2008- BY Author)

My Journey with God