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Archiv der Kategorie: english poetry

English poems published on this blog.

Fragments

Teardrops

Made of ink,

Born from an ocean,

 

Are falling

 

To the ground,

Covered in sheets

Of white paper.

 

Each sheet

Catches a different drop,

 

Witnesses

That are yet

 

Too fragile

To drown you,

 

Too solid

To be forgotten,

 

Waves that are

Not strong enough

To reach the shore.

 

So the sheets

Keep dancing like leaves

In the wind,

Waiting for the rain

To come.

 

Copyright Sophie Aduial 2017

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English is cool, right ? #03

Do you know him ? She is quite a peculiar individual.

 
5 Kommentare

Verfasst von - 7. August 2017 in english poetry, Literatur

 

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An encounter

Hello life,

My old friend,

How have you been without me?

I’m terribly sorry for my absence,

But you know,

You are quite complicated

When you’re having a bad time.

From now on,

I’ll try to keep up with you,

But considering your uncertainty,

I cannot promise

Not to lose sight of you again.

 

I have to go now,

I’m quite busy making up

For some missed experiences.

 

Copyright Sophie Aduial 2017

 
3 Kommentare

Verfasst von - 17. Juli 2017 in english poetry, Literatur

 

Ages of the sun

Ages of the sun

While watching the sunset lately, I suddenly started thinking about the inseperable link between the sun and human life, not only in a scientific way, but also in a spiritual and transcendent way. This was the result.

 

 

 

A red shade

Is wandering through the sky,

A time traveller

Telling tales and legends

Of ages that have passed by.

A book written

In all languages and letters,

That has seen worlds

Rise and fall,

Each one forming a different chapter,

Echoes

Of customs and beliefs.

A guide through human history,

That is slowly fading

Towards a different evening,

Witnessing a new chapter

Of human diversity.

 

Copyright Sophie Aduial 2017

 

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Chasing the horizon

A road as old as humanity,

that has been travelled

by all kinds of beings.

Soldiers, dictators and nuclear lobbyists

as well as

slaves, test animals and child workers

have known its course

and left it covered by scars and blood.

Continuing endlessly it touches

the very end of the red horizon,

crossed by poisoned rivers

and skirted by dead trees.

Trying to find out

what sense it all holds,

you follow the traces of these,

but you just keep chasing the horizon.

 

Copyright Sophie Aduial

 
 

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English is cool, right ? #2

 
 

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My home is the world

My home is the world

This is a poem that I wrote some years ago, but to me, it has lost nothing of its accuracy. The picture was drawn by a very talented friend of mine and inspired me to write this poem.

 

 

 

I have no country or city

to call home.

My home does not consist

of walls and a roof.

I need no furniture or decoration,

for the pictures hanging on my walls

are my memories

and my furniture is made of

travelling,

a beautiful sunset

or simply laughing

with my friends.

My family is life

and my home is the world.

 

Copyright Sophie Aduial 2017

 
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Verfasst von - 22. Juni 2017 in english poetry

 

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