Two Poems by Elham Hamedi

The Moaning of a Leaf 

The moaning of the leaves under your shoes
makes me cry
The window did not understand the leaf
The window did not follow the path of the bird
The moaning of the leaf on the way to the ground made me cry
As the moon falls from the tree branches
made me cry
White Rain is standing on the threshold of the door
Black Rain has hidden all my tears in its pocket. 
□

The Scent of Darkness 

I smell of the night,
The scent of darkness
Though I had hidden the moon in my pocket,
Though I had kissed the moon.
I smell of the night,
The scent of a desert night,
Not of a street
Though the moon had fallen asleep in my eyes,
Although the lanterns repeat my name in the clots of light
More times than the seas ever did!
□

- Elham Hamedi
Iran

Short Bio-Note of Elham Hamedi (Shiraz, Iran, 1967)
A multimedia artist, painter, writer, and poet, Elham Hamedi is a
distinguished creative professional and a dedicated executive member of
several esteemed international associations and foundations. In 2022, she
published her poetry book Un colpo alla testa era uno Zaqboor (Terra
d’Ulivi Editions) in Italy. Her artistic creations and literary works have been
featured in numerous exhibitions, poetry anthologies, prestigious magazines,
and renowned websites.Holding a Master's degree in Art and a Bachelor's
degree in Radiology, Hamedi uniquely fuses her medical insights with artistic
expression, exploring the intricate relationship between the human body and
art through a psychoanalytic lens. Her participation in literary events has
earned her numerous awards, underscoring her exceptional interdisciplinary
creativity.Her acclaimed painting collection, titled Fragment, has garnered
widespread critical praise. Most recently, she was named one of the “50
Unforgettable Women of Asia” and recognized as a “Pillar of Asian Culture”
as part of the global project Stockholm 2033—a five-volume initiative
spanning five continents (2024).

Two Poems by Rafia Bukhari

Be a Trend Setter

Rather than the rising one

The setting sun is better 

Every problem will be solved

If you are a firm believer in God

Once I was abandoned on the shore

An unknown path was just before

Don't dishearten those people

Who opt for the less chosen path

Rather than trudging the same way

Isn't it better to build a new dale?

□

Like a Pearl

Around me lies a pile of empty, frozen words

One by one, they are flying like birds

All words have fallen apart.

It has shattered an already cracked heart.

I'm as clear as a crystal

Neither any layer nor a single freckle.

Those who didn't deserve my respect,

Even I gave them more than their state.

In return, I received that I didn't expect.

Waste not your words with them,

Who are deprived of a sense of shame.

Silence is the best answer for them,

If you inherit the heart of a gem.

It is easy to forgive and relieve,

But neither trust again nor believe.

□

- Rafia Bukhari

Pakistan

Biography:-

Rafia Bukhari, an English-language poetess and writer from Pakistan. Born on June 15 in Larkana Sindh. She is the second English writer from Larkana, following in the footsteps of Fatima Bhutto. Her two English poetry books, "The Painful Payment" (2021) and "A Flight of Broken Wings" (2023), have already been published. Despite the limited English readership in the region, her books have been well-received. Her poetry often draws inspiration from the natural world, particularly the setting sun. Most of her poems are representative inner conflict that leads to self-discovery. 

In addition, she has translated forty to fifty stories in English. Some of these translations have already been published, with more to follow soon. Currently, she is pursuing her MPhil in English at Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur, focusing on the English translations of Shah Abdul Bhittai's Risalo. 

Three Poems by Stella Theresa Luna

Love System

I call out your name 
From the deepest rib of my chest
From the innermost lining of my gut 
From the minutest vein of my brain 
From the longest network of arteries 
Circulating in endless motion 
Never stopping to seek rest
Like my love for you 
Which restlessly lies 
In the complicated systems 
Of my body 
Infused with an ending supply 
of hope and faith 
To the last beat of my heart. 
□

Blind Love 

Through your words that pierced 
The hearts you left behind 
You have refreshed my memory
Snippets of our romance
Have now come alive
Igniting the embers or a fading 
past emotion
My One True love
You recreated that scene in mu mind
And once again  
I as blind.  
□

Grass

Grass the wind blows upon it
Over and over
But it leans aside
Your love keeps its hard stance
Unmindful of me
And never bends
It is arrogant 
The wind hammers it
Messing with our lives 
Turning it into pieces 
Until its gone.
□

- Stella Theresa Luna
Phillipines 

Four Poems by Ivan Pozzoni

HOTEL ACAPULCO

My emaciated hands continued to write,
turning each voice of death into paper,
That he lefts no will,
forgetting to look after
what everyone defines as the normal business
of every human being: office, home, family,
the ideal, at last, of a regular life.
Abandoned, back in 2026, any defense
of a permanent contract,
labelled as unbalanced,
i'm locked up in the centre of Milan,
Hotel Acapulco, a decrepit hotel,
calling upon the dreams of the marginalized,
exhausting a lifetime's savings
in magazines and meagre meals.
When the Carabinieri burst
into the decrepit room of the Hotel Acapulco
and find yet another dead man without a will,
who will tell the ordinary story
of an old man who lived windbreak?
□

THE BALLAD OF PEGGY AND PEDRO

The ballad of Peggy and Pedro barked out by the punkbestials
of the Garibaldi Bridge, with a mixture of hatred and despair,
teaches us the intimate relationship between geometry and love,
to love as if we were maths surrounded by stray dogs.
Peggy you were drunk, normal mood,
in the slums along the bed of the Tiber
and alcohol, on August evenings, doesn't warm you up,
clouding every sense in annihilating dreams,
transforming every chewed-up sentence into a gunfight in the back
on armour dissolved by the summer heat.
Lying on the edges of the bridge's ledges,
among the drop-outs of the Rome open city,
you opened your heart to the gratuitous insult of Pedro,
your lover, and toppled over, falling into the void,
drawing gravitational trajectories from the sky to the cement.
Pedro wasn't drunk, a day's journey away,
you weren't drunk, abnormal state of mind,
in the slums along the bed of the Tiber,
or in the empty parties of Milan's movida,
with the intention of explaining to dogs and tramps
a curious lesson of non-Euclidean geometry.
Mounted on the edge of the bridge,
in the apathetic indifference of your distracted pupils,
you jumped, in the same trajectory of love,
along the same fatal path as your Peggy,
landing on the cement at the same instant.
The punkbestials of the Garibaldi Bridge, cleared by the local authority,
will spread a surreal lesson to every slum in the world
centred on the astonishing idea
that love is a matter of non-Euclidean geometry.
□

THE ANTI-PROMISE TO LOVE

Anti-poet, victim of my anti-poetry,
all I could do is dedicate to you an antpromise of love,
my anti-promise of love would have the features of a synesthesia,
the Stalinist hardness of steel and the softness of colour,
the finesse of friendship and the consistency of love,
your white eyes turn me into a hydrophobic cynic,
and there's no doctor for rage, my love.
An anti-promise of love to be read before a registrar,
as to convince a tecno-trivial world,
i've loved you since June 1976, perhaps, in truth, since April,
i was an embryo and you were still immersed in the aurora borealis,
for six years you would have been an angel, a ghost, the inessential of a fractal,
without batting an eyelid waiting for you, six years, thirty-six years, with nothing to say,
the sheep of Panurge's contemporaries would condemn me to total silence.
You are my anti-promise of love, and the idea may seem imperceptible to you,
i observe you sleeping, serene, like a crumb abandoned in a toaster,
my love I am stripped of the role of ‘sapper’ - it is abyssal like a submarine,
condemned to scatter torpedoes under the (false) guise of a dogfish.
□

THE ENCHANTMENT OF LOVE

The story of a coin is of no interest to anyone
two sides never so bold to see each other face to face
on one side imprinted the effigy of a queen,
austere, draped in silks and thirsty of drapery,
on the other the image of a minstrel, clad in a mantle of earth,
surrounded by the golden sadness of war songs.
The enchantment of love turns into coin
two hands, arranged one with care and other artisanship,
shake hands, and two faces, two metic eyes
protrude from the copper reliefs,
keeping alive, embraced, suspended in the void,
the one observing the amenity of a realm
where rivers run free, flowers smile,
clothed in forests and fruit forever,
the other gazing into hell.
My art is powerless
to cast spells so influential
to keep two faces timelessly suspended in the void,
mixing in forge the two worlds
into a single world where minstrel
and austere queen harmonise thoroughly.
Minstrel, continue to sing
your useless song with a broken heart,
waiting for fragments of tears
to flow again
in the blood of a halved love.
□
- Ivan Pozzoni
Italy 

Ivan Pozzoni was born in Monza in 1976. He introduced Law and Literature in Italy and the publication of essays on Italian philosophers and on the ethics and juridical theory of the ancient world; He collaborated with several Italian and international magazines. Between 2007 and 2018, different versions of the books were published: Underground and Riserva Indiana, with A&B Editrice, Versi Introversi, Mostri, Galata morente, Carmina non dant damen, Scarti di magazzino, Here the Austrians are more severe than the Bourbons, Cherchez the troika. et The Invective Disease with Limina Mentis,Lame da rasoi, with Joker, Il Guastatore, with Cleup, Patroclo non deve morire, with deComporre Edizioni and Kolektivne NSEAE, with Divinafollia. He was the founder and director of the literary magazine Il Guastatore – «neon»-avant-garde notebooks; he was the founder and director of the literary magazine L'Arrivista; he is the editor and chef of the international philosophical magazine Información Filosófica; he is, or has been, creator of the series Esprit (Limina Mentis), Nidaba (Gilgamesh Edizioni) and Fuzzy (deComporre). It contains a fortnight of autogérées socialistes edition houses. He wrote 150 volumes, wrote 1000 essays, founded an avant-garde movement (NéoN-avant-gardisme, approved by Zygmunt Bauman), with a millier of movements, and wrote an Anti-manifesto NéoN-Avant-gardiste. This is mentioned in the main university manuals of literature history, philosophical history and in the main volumes of literary criticism. His book La malattia invettiva wins Raduga, mention of the critique of Montano et Strega. He is included in the Atlas of contemporary Italian poets of the University of Bologne and figures à plusieurs reprized in the great international literature review of Gradiva. His verses are translated into 25 languages. In 2024, after six years of total retrait of academic studies, he return to the Italian artistic world and melts the NSEAE Kolektivne (New socio/ethno/aesthetic anthropology) [https://kolektivnenseae.wordpress.com]

Being Without You, a Poem by Farzaneh Dorri

Being without you is like being in a desert without sand
like the seven continents without water
like a sky without stars
like a flower without scent
like music without sound.

A life without you is unthinkable,
the mind is dark,
the soul trampled down into the deepest hole.

behind the moon's bright face
I see your memory so distant
wandering beyond all.

- Farzaneh Dorri
Iran/Denmark

Farzaneh Dorri was born in Iran, and lives in Copenhagen. She has worked as employment advisor and case manager in municipalities of Vestegn county in the last 17 years. Her poetry has appeared in Italian, American, Albanian, and Arabic Magazines. She considers poetry as a fine art and creative process, that contribute to the community of humanity. She translates poetry into Persian and Danish.

Three Poems by Corina Junghiatu

THE BIRD OF INFINITY

In the high heavens,

where fire fades into the ink of night,

a bird unfolds its wings:

a puzzle of sun shards,

torn from its incandescent body of letters.

Its wings, bloodied by twilight,

gather unborn galaxies;

while its tail, a ladder to its dream,

unravels into strands of light.

The bird twists its tail

into a spiral that sketches, in the sky,

the symbol of infinity.

In its chest flows the cosmic alphabet,

the signs of Enoch drifting between its ribs.

And we, each of us,

carry within our spirit a Phoenix bird,

ready to burn, ready to rise again.

□

BENEATH WINTER’S LID

In the arms of twisted branches,

like spirals of silver,

toward the sky—a translucent membrane,

where silence hangs like a prayer

in crystalline stillness,

fall white butterflies,

born of frozen dreams,

like flakes of light,

melting into the lake

that mirrors a universe crushed beneath the ice.

On the lake’s shore,

the trees, colossal shadows,

cloaked in snow’s bark,

rise like living towers.

Their branches, bound in chains

of ice crystals,

take on bizarre forms,

like bodies without a beginning or end.

Beneath the dome of a glass sky,

the lake dreams of shadows dissolved in white,

beneath winter’s lid.

□

TO A TEAR

A tear

is not merely a translucent sphere

of melted light,

but a reflection of the infinite within the finite,

a microcosm

where all unspoken sorrows

and all ancestral longings are condensed.

A single tear

carries within it the weight of a destiny,

and when it touches the earth,

you can feel a tremor in the heart,

a seismic shift of the senses

that reconfigures the contours of the universe.

In its fall,

time halts,

and the entire world seems to sink

into that small, liquid sphere,

like into a vortex of melancholy,

where all colours merge with shadow

and all sounds blend

into absolute silence.

The tear does not shatter upon the ground,

but becomes part of the primordial waters of the world,

where all the tears

of those who have loved, suffered, and hoped to gather.

In the cosmic ocean of tears,

it finally finds peace,

embraced by broken hopes

and the scattered dreams of humanity.

□

- Corina Junghiatu

(Poet, Critic, and Cultural Ambassador)

Bucharest, Romania 

Corina Junghiatu, a celebrated poet and cultural ambassador from Bucharest, Romania, holds a Master’s degree in Philology and Psycho-pedagogy from the University of Bucharest. She has authored acclaimed collections such as “Exile in the Light” and “The Ritual of a Sunrise”. Fluent in five languages, her spiritually rich poetry has earned global recognition, with works featured in prestigious anthologies and awarded international accolades. She is the Editor-in-chief of VERSEUM LITERARY JOURNAL and THE POETRY TRIBUNE and the founder of thr literary forum Verseum&The Poetry Tribune.

750 WEEKS WITH THE LITERARY AND CULTURAL NEWSPAPER "NACIONAL"

Dear readers, today you hold in your hands the 750th issue of the literary and cultural newspaper Nacional. For 750 weeks, this newspaper has stood by you through good times and bad, sharing a common vision for our national culture and literature. Nacional is a well-known literary and cultural newspaper based in Tirana, Albania. It serves as a meaningful platform for literary discourse, cultural analysis, and intellectual engagement within the Albanian community and beyond. The newspaper has become recognized for its articles, poetry, prose, essays, and in-depth critiques that explore various aspects of Albanian and global literature, art, and culture. It features works from both established and emerging writers, offering space for diverse voices and perspectives.
Beyond its literary content, Nacional covers cultural events, interviews with artists and authors, and discussions on social issues, reflecting Albania’s dynamic cultural landscape. Its contributions are valuable to those interested in understanding and engaging with the rich cultural heritage of the Albanian nation and its contemporary artistic expressions. Overall, Nacional has strived to play a decisive role in promoting and preserving Albanian culture, fostering a deeper appreciation of the nation’s literary and artistic achievements, including the Albanian language and its ancient roots, making it a cornerstone in this field.

A Literary and Cultural Beacon in the Balkans
Nacional is a distinguished literary and cultural newspaper based in Tirana, Albania, with a distribution network that extends throughout the Balkan region. Beyond literature, it serves as a vital platform for intellectual discourse, offering analyses, critiques, and deep discussions on various aspects of literature, art, and culture related to Albania, the Balkans, and beyond. The newspaper is known for presenting a diverse range of content, including poetry, prose, criticism, essays, interviews, and reviews that delve into contemporary and historical cultural themes, including Albanology. By highlighting works from both established and emerging voices, Nacional fosters a rich dialogue within the literary and linguistic community, remaining open and impartial.
In addition to its literary focus, Nacional covers significant cultural events and social issues, reflecting the region’s dynamic cultural landscape. Its contributions are invaluable to those seeking a deeper understanding of Balkan cultural heritage and contemporary artistic expressions.
In essence, Nacional plays a crucial role in promoting and preserving the cultural narratives of Albania and its neighboring countries, serving as a bridge between different cultural expressions within the Balkan Peninsula.

Bridging Albanian and World Literature
Nacional is not only a literary and cultural newspaper with a strong focus on Albanian and Balkan culture but also plays a crucial role in bringing international literature to its readers. The publication actively features works by foreign authors, offering Albanian readers access to global literary currents and diverse perspectives.
Additionally, Nacional conducts interviews with prominent figures from the world of culture, including renowned writers, artists, and intellectuals. These interviews provide valuable insights into contemporary literary and artistic movements, fostering a cultural exchange between Albania and the international literary scene. By emphasizing international literature and global cultural dialogues, Nacional serves as a bridge between Albanian and world literature, enriching the region’s cultural landscape.

A Legacy of Excellence: 16 Years of Nacional
For 16 years, the literary and cultural newspaper Nacional has established itself as an essential publication in the international cultural and literary media landscape. With its headquarters in Tirana, Albania, and a broad distribution across the Balkans, Nacional has consistently delivered high-quality content, including literary works, cultural critiques, and intellectual discussions. One of its defining characteristics is its commitment to publishing international literature, featuring works by renowned foreign authors alongside Albanian and Balkan writers. The newspaper also conducts exclusive interviews with prominent figures in global culture, offering readers valuable insights into contemporary artistic and literary movements. Through its dedication to cultural discourse and the promotion of regional and international literary voices, Nacional has strengthened its reputation as a key player in fostering literary exchange and intellectual engagement on a global scale.

Dr. Muje Bucpapaj, the Founder and Leader of the newspaper Nacional, is a highly respected and internationally renowned figure. His texts have been widely published in many prestigious physical and online media in different countries and containers of the world. 

Trace, A Poem by Maja Milojković

You leave a taste in the mouth and a sparkle in the eyes.
I would like to break away from your embrace, 
but also to return.
I don't know who I am 
who are you to me 
but i know one thing-
time does not exist with you.
You make every atom of my being happy with your touch 
and I take a piece of you 
with me wherever I am.
The inspiration of my resident smile. 
I love everything about you, 
just don't say much.
Happiness is increased in silence.
We have found each other, relatives, 
here on earth 
and in some parallel world 
we already exist a long time ago.
- Maja Milojković
Serbia
marunda108@gmail.com

Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar, Serbia. She is the deputy editor at "Sfairos" publishing house in Belgrade, Serbia. She is the vice-president of the association "Rtanj and Mesečev poetski krug". She is the author of 2 books: "The Circle of the Moon" and "Trees of Desire". She is the editor of the international anthology "Rtanjski stihopevi". One of the founders of the poetry club "Area Felix" from Zaječar, Serbia and the editor of an international magazine for creative literature and culture "Area Felix".

I Love You, a Poem by Rajmonda Qose Shkopi

Deep in the core I feel you, 
Deep in the bone and in pain
I dissolve in dreams
I burn in the thirst of fires 
The flames consume me 
and I dare not stop 

That look takes me away 
A cloudless sky sows my eyes 
I get lost in that ocean still drowned as
I am, 
I seek no other salvation, 
That you consume my whole being. 

I love you 
And I get all scared
I tremble from the fear of loss, 
a volley of sparks knocks me to the ground

Madness of ominous thoughts, 
I say Enough!
Like black shadows, don't get in my way
 As they try to stop me
 
Without you I can't breathe at all 
That you are the love that only comes once and you made my life paradise. 

- Rajmonda Qose Shkopi 
Albania

Rajmonda Qose Shkopi was born in Kuçova city, in Albania. She  has completed her higher studies at the "Aleksandër Xhuvani" University, Language and Literature degree, in Elbasan city and works as a teacher. She has published the poem books "Don't give up" ," We forget to kiss the dew", and " The Apocalypse of the Leaf". Her poems are published in many newspapers and literature magazines national and international. She is  co-author in many national and international Anthologies. She has won many prizes in poetry competitions.

Three Poems by Rajeshri Senapati Gogoi

EMBRACE OF LOVE 

I feel the expressing 
Of love and affection 
through your warm embraces.
Make me feel even more special 
By your curated romantic 
flirty wishes my love.
Every hug from you 
feels like a warm blanket 
in the cold days.  
Your hugs heal my soul 
make my heart race. 
No words can express 
The magic of your embrace. 
It’s my safe place forever.
Your hug speaks 
A thousand words of love. 
Let’s make this day 
extra special with endless cuddles!
Every time I hug you, 
I feel like it's my heaven. 
Happy Hug Day to my soulmate. 
One love for a lifetime is enough for me,
Now , I knew that you love me madly  

ARE YOU IN LOVE 

If anyone asks 
Are you in love, 
You'd say, I'm still in love
With my beloved.
If you fall in love 
Then it will fall forever. 
If you commit to one 
Then commit for life.  
A tender kiss from a loved one 
Falling in love with you 
It's like making you feel
Yes even today 
You are in love 
In love with your loved one, 
His personality is on top.

YOU ARE MY VALENTINE 

My love, 
The heart that you gave me 
Thank you for 
Standing Besides me 
In every step of the way 
Thank you for 
You are my Valentine, yes you are . 
Teaching me to smile every day 
Thanks for the.
I adore you.
You have a beautiful soul.
To be your soulmate 
for being the person 
I feel fortunate .
I feel that it is.
You are the epitome 
Of love and devotion.
To share every moment of my life 
Thank you for the.
You are my Valentine, yes you are.

- Rajeshri Senapati Gogoi 
Dibrugarh, Assam, India 

Rajeshri Senapati Gogoi, a poet, writer and translator. She is also a social worker. She is contributing literature and peace among various groups. She works in Dibrugarh University as an UDA by profession, writing as a passion. She is translating the Sacred Bhagvad Geeta in simple assamese mother tounge . Kabya Nandini a title given as a honour of respect.

In Love, a Poem by Jaipreet Grover

In Love
Every colour looks beautiful 
That encapsulates 
Spectrum of emotions
And
Rainbow of feelings
Playing merrily
Their hues and shades
Under the umbrella of 
Propinquity.

But
The most beautiful colour 
Is the one
When your colour of love
Merges
With my colour of love
That spills
A kaleidoscopic promise 
Of togetherness
Till eternity!

- Jaipreet Grover 
Maharashtra, India 

Poetess Jaipreet Grover holds a Master’s degree in HR and is currently working as an educationist in India’s renowned school. She has been bestowed with the Teachers’ Recognition Award in 2019. Her poems have been reviewed and published on multiple national and international platforms, e-zines, and in the school magazine. She is also one of the co-authors of five anthologies and one storybook. She has been conferred with "The Order of Shakespeare award", "Golden Badge" and Prashasti Patra" globally.

Two Poems by Fali Ndreka

Spring of Love

Spring has come, 
yesterday I saw the first bud,
I heard the bird's chirp 
on a tree, that for love,
had become the first messenger.

Now we are in the spring season, 
and everything is green around me.
But spring was in me 
before,
just as it was inside you.

The scent of flowers that spreads everywhere,
Flies lightly over the ridges of fantasy,
While I collect verses
and weave them into wreaths,
as a gift, for the best season of love.

My love surrounded by the scent of jasmine,
My love crosses the rainbow,
My love climbs to the sky,
There it dances with the stars, and their rhythm,
And receives warmth, strength and light from the rays of the sun.

We are both together in the whiteness of life, 
We have both climbed the blue heights. We both climb the golden stairs of love, 
where life takes on meaning and strength between our sure steps.
□

A Kiss

A light kiss like a breeze,
Let it refresh your lips,
That burn like embers and flames,
Drunk with love.

A kiss that climbs the altar
of loyalty and security,
That rocks and caresses the soul,
In the cradle 
that even kings dream of.

An intoxication with the wine of kindness
Let it rock us on the white cloud,
And in the infinity of the sky
let us jump like crazy.

Like a star you descended into my heart,
You have become the medicine of my heart for me,
In the beautiful nights with the best observations,
We both got drunk in the years that 
will never be repeated.

- Fali Ndreka
Milano, Italy

IF, a Poem by Dr. Shailesh Gupta Veer

If your beats have music of my love

If there is my glow in your face

If you have my dreams in your eyes

If there is fragrance of my love in your breaths

If your heart is in the love of my heart

If you have so sweet and soft corner for me

If you think that I am the same man-

as in your thoughts

as in your dreams

If you think that I am the same man-

With whom you want to live your entire life,

If...

Will you marry me?

© Dr. Shailesh Gupta Veer

(Editor: The Fatehpur Resolution)

Fatehpur, UP, India 

Email: editorsgveer@gmail.com 

Dr. Shailesh Gupta Veer is a renowned poet, critic, and editor. His poetry, translated into numerous languages, explores universal themes with unique style, imagery, and emotional depth. A literary icon, he champions innovation and artistic expression, inspiring emerging and established voices alike.

THE BELIEF OF ASPIRATION, A POEM BY HONG NGOC CHAU

Life sometimes revolves in this existence
Let ask misery people in pondering moments
Who can foresee the reunion or separation?
Sad or joyful days so as to longing in motion?

We share confide at the nameless place
To tie our relationship being love fate
The two hearts in the same beat, same flow
Sunshine or rain we’ve ever experienced sorrows

From now on we hope our love fullness
Man life career adapts our desire more or less
For tomorrow, it exists throughout generations
It’s forever constant the belief of aspiration

We love the simple life of sincerity
The ideal rises among life worldly
With our will, we keep our loving fire
The vow is witnessed by the blue sky
- HONG NGOC CHAU
Ho Chi Mình City
Vietnam

Her true name is NGUYEN CHAU NGOC DOAN CHINH. Her pen name is HONG NGOC CHAU,. She is a Master of educational management, a member of the Ho Chi Minh City Writers' Association
(Vietnam) and an Honorary Doctorate in Literature and Humanity of the Church and of Prixton University.
Admin member of W.U. P (World Union of Poets), GENERAL COUNCIL level World Union of Poets with MEDAL SILVER Investigator (14th medal of World Union of Poets), VISHWA BHARATI Contributor - India (Vishwabharati Research Centre), International Ambassador of the International Council of Writers & Artists, Administrator, moderator, group expert of many literary forums around the world.

Two Poems by Saeeda Akhtar

The Unvoiced Embrace

Love is a whisper the soul understands,
A silent touch, like waves on sands.
No words are spoken, yet hearts confide,
Bound by a bond no force can divide.

It flows like rivers, calm yet deep,
A promise unbroken, a vow to keep.
No need for voices, no need for sound,
In quiet glances, love is found.

The moon may rise, the stars may gleam,
Yet love shines brighter than any dream.
It speaks in echoes of the past,
A song unchained, a truth steadfast.

Through time and tide, through joy and pain,
It whispers softly, again and again.
No language known, no script is read,
Yet love is felt, where souls are wed.

A look, a sigh, a touch so light,
A spark that turns the dark to bright.
No distance great, no storm too strong,
For love’s sweet silence sings so long.

Two hearts that beat, though miles apart,
Yet share one soul, one breath, one heart.
□

Brushstrokes of you  

I had a thought, then paused midway,
A dream that dared to drift away.
To leave this life, to start anew,
With only art and only you.

I'd leave my work, I'd leave my land,
With your soft fingers in my hand.
To a distant place where dreams take flight,
Where love and colors blend with light.

A studio bathed in golden hue,
Each canvas whispering thoughts of you.
No other face, no other eyes,
Just you beneath the endless skies.

"Why only me?" you gently ask,
As if love were a fleeting mask.
But sometimes souls like oceans grow,
Vast and deep in endless flow.

No other muse, no other sight,
Could match your warmth, your soul's own light.
For in your gaze, the world appears,
A masterpiece of love and years.
□
- Saeeda Akhtar 
Pakistan 

Saeeda Akhtar, born on November 29 in Lahore, Pakistan, is a distinguished poet, writer, translator, and academic. She holds a Master's in Urdu from the University of Punjab and professor at Queen Mary College, Lahore. Her poetry and short stories have been featured in leading literary magazines such as Funoon and Beyaz, and translated into Arabic, English, Spanish, and Serbian. Recipient of numerous national and international awards, including the Kazi Nazrul Islam Literary Award, she actively participates in international symposiums, bridging cultures through her evocative writings.