Hela Ra

In a time long past, a figure did arise,

With mind aflame and visions in his eyes.

HelaRa, a name etched in history's scroll,

A genius of old, whose story we now extol.

From humble beginnings, his journey did start,

Curiosity ignited, a flame within his heart.

A seeker of knowledge, he delved into the unknown,

Unveiling secrets of the universe, all on his own.

Unbound by limitations, his mind took flight,

A visionary mind, shining brilliantly bright.

Inventions so wondrous, they defied all belief,

Powered by his intellect, beyond human relief.

With mercury and sunlight, his aircraft took to the skies,

Controlled by his mind, a marvel to behold with our eyes.

Pyramids stood tall, a collaborative endeavor,

Did HelaRa play a part? A question we forever endeavor.

Cosmic connections, hints of beings from afar,

Guiding his path, like a distant guiding star.

Encounters with wisdom, ancient and profound,

A bridge between realms, his spirit unbound.

Trials and tribulations, he faced with grace,

Love and companionship, adorned his life's space.

In the tapestry of his existence, a life story unveiled,

A legacy of brilliance, that time has forever hailed.

Oh, HelaRa, a beacon of inspiration so bright,

Your name etched in the annals of time's resplendent light.

May your genius and spirit forever endure,

A testament to the heights that the human mind can procure.

In the realms of dreams and innovation's embrace,

We honor your legacy, your extraordinary grace.

HelaRa, a name forever sung in poetic refrain,

A visionary, a legend, in our hearts shall remain.

ANOTHER YEAR ANOTHER TEAR

ANOTHER TEAR TO SHOW THE FEARS,

ANOTHER YEAR HAS COME AND GONE.

ANOTHER BLOOD STAIN ON THE WALL. 

ANOTHER VOICE, ANOTHER FACE 

WILL TAKE HIS PLACE. 

SOUND OF WAR OUTSIDE THE DOOR

KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN, 

THE BOMB WILL FALL.

THE HOMELESS EAGLE FLIES ALONE,

HE LOOKS FOR PREY

, BUT DOESNT SCORE. 

MY FATHER’S CALLING TO GET BACK HOME.

I CANNOT GO ‘TILL MY TIME COMES. 

THE HOLE GETS BIGGER ALL THE TIME,

IT WILL TAKE YOUR SOUL, 

LIKE IT TOOK MINE.

UPON THE CROSS I LAID TO REST 

I FELT THE NAILS, GO THROUGH MY VEINS.

THE CLOUDS WERE GREY, ONCE THEY WERE WHITE 

WHERE THE TRUTH IS, IT’S HARD TO FIND.

ANOTHER YEAR HAS COME AND GONE. 

ANOTHER TEAR TO SHOW THE FEARS.

ANOTHER BLOOD STAIN ON THE WALL 

ANOTHER VOICE. ANOTHER FACE

WILL TAKE HIS PLACE. 

ALL THE LOVE

 IF A CHILD LIVES WITH CRITICISM, 

HE LEARNS TO CONDEMN.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH RIDICULE, 

HE LEARNS TO BE SHY.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH HOSTILITY, 

HE LEARNS TO FIGHT.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH SHAME, 

HE LEARNS TO FEEL GUILTY.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH TOLERANCE, 

HE LEARNS TO BE PATIENT.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH ENCOURAGEMENT, 

HE LEARNS CONFIDENCE.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH PRAISE, 

HE LEARNS TO APPRECIATE.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH FAIRNESS, 

HE LEARNS JUSTICE. 

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH SECURITY, 

HE LEARNS TO HAVE FAITH.

IF A CHILD LIVES WITH APPROVAL, 

HE LEARNS TO LIKE HIMSELF.

AND IF A CHILD LIVES WITH ACCEPTANCE, 

AND FRIENDSHIP, HE LEARNS TO FIND

LOVE IN THE WORLD.

by Anthony Correa

Of the Beach at Fontana

Of the Beach at Fontana

Wind whines and whines the shingle,

The crazy pierstakes groan;

A senile sea numbers each single

Slimesilvered stone.

From warring wind comes bolder

Grey seas unwrapping warm

Touch from his trembling fineboned shoulder

And boyish arm.

Around us fear, preventing

The fear of darkness about

And in my heart, the steep unending

Ache they shout!

Name and country:

James Joyce's Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba & On the Beach at Fontana Copyright © by Dan Schneider, 7/11/02

Amor ligero / Superficial love

Hombre de carne y ternura, el fuego de mi vida
Me enredas mi pelo con tu lengua de amor y palabras
falsas

Man of flesh and of tenderness,
the fire of my life.  You tangle my hair
with your tongue of love and false words

Te quiero y suspiro con dolor,
de no poder tocarte y besarte.

I love you and I breathe this pain in
of not being able to touch you, to kiss you

De no poder acariciárte, de arrecostar
mis senos llenos de leche sobre tu pecho
desnudo, bajo un cielo silencioso
que nos mira romper huesos y labios.

Of not being able to caress you,
to lay my breasts filled with milk, upon
your naked chest; under a silent sky
that watches us; as together, we crush
our bones and lips over one another.

Mi sueño, mi querido ligero; te pederia prestarme
una noche de tus encantos, para amarte en rodillas.
Tu hombre dentro mi boca, tus dedos dentro mi vientre.
Tu mente dentro la mia.  Para hacer el amor como
dos espiritus endiabliados.  Para conocer de nuestras
penas, y nuestras lágrimas sin hablar una palabra.

My dream, my superficial love;
I would ask you to loan me one night
of your enchantment, so that I may love
you on my knees.  Your manhood to rest
in my mouth.  Your fingers to rest in my womb.
Your mind penetrating my own.  To make love
as two bewitched spirits; so that we may know of
our mutual pain, of the tears we’ve shed
without words.

Para amarte para siempre.
Con mis palabras que si no mienten.

Le balcon

Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses,
Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs! Ô toi, tous mes devoirs
Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses,
La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs,
Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses !

Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon,
Et les soirs au balcon, voilés de vapeurs roses,
Que ton sein m’était doux! que ton coeur m’était bon !
Nous avons dit souvent d’imperissable choses
Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon.

Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées !
Que l’espace est profond ! que le coeur est puissant !
En me penchant vers toi, reine des adorées,
Je croyais respirer le parfum de ton sang.
Que les soleils sont beaux dans les chaudes soirées!

La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’une cloison,
Et mes yeux dans le noir devinaient tes prunelles,
Et je buvais ton souffle, ô douceur! ô poison !
Et tes pieds s’endormaient dans mes mains fraternelles.
La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’un cloison.

Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses !
Et revis mon passé blotti dans tes genoux.
Car à quoi bon chercher tes beautés langoureuses
Ailleurs qu’en ton cher corps et qu’en ton coeur si doux ?
Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses !

Ces serments! ces parfums! ces baisers infinis,
Renaîtront-ils d’un gouffre interdit à nos sondes
Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis
Après s’être lavés au fond des mers profondes ?
Ô serments! ô parfums! ô baisers infinis!

Charles Baudelaire

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure.

Les mains dans les mains restons face-à-face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des éternels regards l'onde si lasse
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure.

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'espérance est violente
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure.

Passent les jours et passent les semaines
Ni temps passé
Ni les amours reviennent
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure.

Guillaume Apollinaire -

French Poem