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

The Isle of Light for Varavara Rao * There is an Isle of Light I will take you there It has never known iron bars Come with me

Before the Joy My words are no longer charcoal as they were before when in the heat of the glow they had become black now they move with

MEN The resigned sea gives back the dead, excessive straw, useless, upon this earth. Crazy and lost the desperate adults depart, the innocent little ones can do nothing,

DOG Suddenly, so spoiled, caressed, well cared for with vaccines administered. At the slightest symptom, I´m being taken for a consultation. The pampering yet increases the pitiful voices