Tuesday, 14 December 2021



World Wide multilingual 

Web Magazine .

Editor. Nihar Ranjan Das .
Editorial and coordinator team....

 Marlene Pasini 
( Mexico )
Gitan Alice lleana 
( Romania)
Miroslava Panayotovs 
(Bulgaria )
Madhu Gangopadhyay, ( India ).
Mala Chakraborty , (India )
Purbasha Mandol 
( India )
Smita Gupta Biswas , (India )
Subrata Roychoudhury (India ) 
Monju Ghosh Choudhury (India) 
Sujit Baksi ,( India )
Sanjita Das laskar, 
( India )
Kakoli Ghosh( moon),
( India )
Milka J. Šolaja 
( Serbia )
Carmen Silva 

( Romania )

Alice Ileana Gîțan
( Romania )

Nu știm...

Nu știm să ne mai bucurăm de viață, 
E-o fugă permanentă după a fi,
A exista într-o lume imaginară 
În care e ușor să ne mințim...

Nu știm să mai privim în urmă,
Cu amintiri ce ne clădesc prezent,
Călcăm pe jurăminte și mergem înainte
Uitând de omenie și devenind absenți.

Nu știm să mai iubim aproape,
Celui de lângă noi, nu îi mai dăm crezare
Și ne mințim cu zâmbetul pe buze
Cu vorbe dulci, spuse de guri-amare.

Valda Fogaça
( Brazil )


Dressed in the robes of a saint, light clothes the color of snow,
I stood in front of you...

The inexperience I brought with me I couldn't hide;
Like autumn leaves my garments fell to the ground.
My body shuddered when touched by steady hands.

¬_God help me! What should I do?
I whispered a silent prayer; my hands were shaking.
Confused thoughts got me nowhere.
I then closed my eyes,

I traveled towards the magical world of dreams.
An amazing journey.
Today, a song, old photographs,
Long sighs rip from my chest.

Gypsy love

 Dr Pat Chiyangwa

( Zimbabwe )

In that glow of her silken skin. 
His tender lust soothing her yearning soul. 
In that rhythmic passionate tide. 
In the serenity of clamouring heart song.
Restless romantic gypsy lovers

Miroslava Panayotova, Bulgaria

My distant friend, 
do you know how much I miss you!
Summer time was drawing 
the pink songs of the sunrise.
The white string of the south 
was throwing seeds into the ground.
The wind often was looking for us, 
it was carrying us in a lilac cloud.
The old songs of the time, 
the sweet smell of the air,
mixed the breath of pepper 
with the summer smell of the wind,
with a dusty tear of linden, 
were intoxicating my thoughts.
Swans and faithful beams 
were shining l in your words, 
often the faces were sparkling 
in the earthly coziness of stars.
The simple room was shining 
with the few important things,
there was everything in infinity - 
time, sky, light.
Dreams just weren't enough 
to sing in the world our song - 
it was cheerful, 
it was the color of grass.
Our short walks were hiding 
the landscape in footsteps.
We were throwing boldly on the road 
lines, colors, spaces, 
carefree words in the wind,
incidents, crucified correctly or simply killed
with a bow and arrow of irony. 
Then we were laughing happily -
all that mattered was the clue,
but above all - the idea or just the goal.
We were kissing cloudy barrels, 
we were putting everything off, 
for sure in the clear glow in the morning, 
in the cool cream of the night.
Our days - travelling shadows - 
were washing in our native Maritsa.
The fish did not have a name, 
but they recognized our features.
Common, unified and complete, 
river fish and our days
were swimming long in the river 
without longing for a boat.
But now I think - where is the old boat?

মালা চক্রবর্তী 
  ( ভারত )

আমি তন্ন তন্ন করে তাকে খুঁজেছি
শ্যাওলা বেড়েছে স্বেচ্ছায়
বুনোলতায় ঢেকেছে সূতিকাগার

জন্ম ভুলেছি, মৃত্যুও

নোয়া, নৌকা বানাও
ভাসতে বলেছেন ঈশ্বর।

Vasiliki Karatasiou
   ( Greece )

the days of isolation
because of covid 19.

My complaint

  Ι want to fly beyond the  sky,
beyond the horizon!
I want to fly like an eagle, like a bird, like the wind to save my soul from isolation!
I can't stand it any more!
   I want to live on a tree-house
in the mountains beside
a spring where the birds of the sky come and drink!

   I want to breath freely again, to find myself and to  smile again!
Do l ask a lot? Someone, please, let me know!

Tanja Ajtić
( Canada )

That love 

I don't want to talk 
I want to keep quiet 
in this evening of 
lost dreams. 
I want to keep quiet and lisen
to remember the wonderful 
when you 
stood in my heart 
and the soul, the soul felt you. 
I will not talk and 
retell to myself 
or to others 
whether it was or not 
that love
in the silence of the world.
I'm just whispering: 
she could have been 
the right one.

Cristina Serghiescu

( Romania )


Hope is fragile
on branches of life,
when the buds struggle
in the fog,
when the shadows lurk
from forests of thoughts,
when I am silent,
at the edge of rows.

The idea is fragile
in the fields of silence,
when the grass burns
under the mist of pain,
when it snows with questions
on the palms of dreams,
when the white wind shouts,
among faded echoes.

Fragile is a whisper,
on the lips of wonder,
when I write arrows of fire,
on the bitter temples,
when it shatters,
on the eyelids of expectation,
when it rains for seconds,
on the shoulders of calls.

The light is fragile,
in the sky of happiness
when they untied the thread
from the ball of deception,
when storm clouds
struggling in his fist,
when the lightning of feeling
it's red and hungry.

Shampa Saha
   ( India )


Wrapped with nature
With no artificial gesture
They live in lap of earth
After their birth

With all the light of sun
With the serenity of moon
With the music of river
With birds chirping sound

Tribal life is so pure
Far aloof from mimicry
To pretend fake happiness
Detached from all hypocracy

A small hut with earthen smell
With the raw essence of life
Smiles are there so enthusiastic
And bonds are always with positive vibes

They live their own life
From the hustle bustle of city
They are the native son of mother earth
With their own identity

They love together with selflessness
They love together themselves
Tribal life is like live in heaven
With the wholistic  blooming essence.


  ( ভারত )

তোমার হাত দুটো দাও
দাও, তোমার হাত দুটো দাও
গড়িয়ে যেতে যেতে ধরে রাখি
ছুঁয়ে দিই আলগোছে অন্ধকারে নিমগ্ন সেতার 
গোপন শরীরে নয় আমি যাই অধিক গোপনে
 যেখানে অবচেতনায় তীব্রতা জাগায় হাসনুহানা
 দাও ,তোমার হাত দুটো দাও
 গড়িয়ে যেতে যেতে নিরিবিলি গেঁথে থাকি .....

 Jannat R. A
( London, UK )

The Darkness

A shrieking silence
the darkness pitch-black 
while the sweet valley breeze chokes.

Darkness deceives
conceals the darkest hour
bears no witness
atrocities are unheard, unseen.

Another eclipse of the sun and moon 
The triumph of evil.

The embers will glow
until they reach Eden
paradise will burn to ashes.

Alab Sibel

 ( London , UK)

 Holidays Are Approaching 
  Decorations for the holidays kan bulu breeds
  Festive hospitality bell
  The side echoes
  The end-of-year holidays are approaching full of echoes !!

 A fiery echo is enlivening
  Lights and ornaments
  Even the blue sky at night is shining
  Famous Christmas yes this December !!

 Even the soul is ignited by enthusiasm
  I feel a spiritual satisfaction
  These holidays of loved ones are on this day of the day as angels
  Magical time of fndevit
  Even the stars of the blue sky
  Together with us on earth from joy and happiness are dancing !!
  The end of the year holidays are approaching !!

Ljubica Katić
(Split -Croatia)

Take me

Take me where the ears are always yellow;
Where the view is clear; where nothing is blurry.
Take me where the thorns do not sting
Take me where the sad ones are led.

Take me where the cherries are always ripe;
Take me where people always rejoice;
Where the birds merrily sing;
Take me if such places exist.

Take me where there is no darkness
I need light after twilight;
Take me even if it lasts a short time,
So I can drive away this grayness.

Dessy Tsvetkova
 (Bulgaria )

The best

Your voice to me is as a song of nightingale,
that wakes me up each charming morning.
Your arms are warm as blanket in the winter.
My days are starting as enchanted game
and I go out to meet the new rewarnings. 
And every step I do on streets, I mingle.
Though it is always best
the moment I come home in evenings,
when I can see you waiting at our living
and we together after, simply rest.

মঞ্জু ঘোষ চৌধুরী
( ভারত )


ফুসফুসের জানালায় কে‌ দেয়
প্রতিপলের চাহিদার অনুভব,
চারিদিকে আত্মসুখ, ঘরের সামনে দিয়ে হেঁটে ‌যায় সেদিনের শৈশব।

আজ জীবন‌ সায়াহ্নে শুকনো পাতা মাড়িয়ে হেঁটে চলেছি,
হঠাৎ ‌মেঘের। নির্ঘোস।
ফোঁটা ফোঁটা হয়ে প্রবলভাবে
বৃষ্টি এলো।

জলের স্রোতের সাথে কানে সুর তোলে বিদেহী শব্দেরা, অনুভব করি অন্তিম সময়  আগত
শরীরে  জ্বলছে  অনল।

Carmen Silva  
( Romania )
Anchored thoughts

My sweet love,
I wonder if I disturb you
With my thoughts
Which inexplicably,
Wherever I start them,
They are always leading me to you...
I'm trying to order them
Around me
As I don't want to let them touch you
And disturb your smooth road
Chosen by you
At the opposite pole...
Don't worry,
I caught all the thoughts with you
În a baloons bounch like,
Well anchored
In my soul,
Where from they will leave
Only as part of me

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