AN EMPTY GLASS The cup full of spring water was in sight It is a part of my body. I tried to drink it, But when I tried,

“Cobwebflowers” poetry by Miguel Hernández Cover painting by Siegfried Reich an der Stolpe, Germany Last Song Painted, not void: my house is painted with the color of great

                                                  www.KunstLoft.de Reasoning When you’re in love, Everything is possible, You could be for instance as light, As a strayed arrow, That strikes the blue sky, And

Photo by Germain Droogenbroodt, Santa Maria Navarrese, Sardinia Memories belong to no one For M. P. A friend had told him about it: when her sister’s coffin had

Poem to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Paul Celan Josef Bordat, Germany Corona   Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends. We shell time

Giacomo Manzù, Italia Fugue of Death* (Coronavirus) To Donald Trump, Boris Johnson, Jair Bolsonaro…   Death, we drink you, we drink you with our eyes, we drink you

Pablo Atchugarry, Montevideo   Breath   It is in that remote breath, inside the heart, that everyone recognizes his destiny. The most forbidden dream: the idea of an

TRUTH The door of truth was open, but let only half a person pass at a time. Thus, it was not possible to reach the whole truth, because

Amrutlal * With green ink, sometimes with red, Amrutlal would very carefully, in neat handwriting, write down his poems in a leather-bound diary. Sometimes he had a nightmare

Easy prey They hold on to their cell phone What is and what was is retrievable at a fingertip But already they don’t know any longer what they