I.F.C.H

SNOW DAY Rahim Karim karimov                                       There are holidays of nations, different countries, Students, youth, seniors, children. Miners and doctors, men and lovely ladies, Writers, artists, teachers. But the Feast of Snow is one for all people: Rhinestone jewelry lovers. There are no other snows in the world, no, Silver, crystal necklaces tale. Lips on my lips, put my cheek to the snows Breathing caresses the bliss, whiteness. I’ll dive into the snowdrifts, I will throw myself at my feet, His Majesty and Snow, and freeze. How much it is here, there’s no need to share it, In armfuls, take those white flowers. Smell the daisies, the scent of carnations, With the snow divine you out of the clouds.

murdered iris buds © Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak                                         wrapped with love they were nesting tightly around a mailbox and were a great pride in the night, the hand of a cruel murderer broke off the tiny buds robbed them of life and took all the joy with them ''now murdered iris remain in the sunshine as a marker'' shiny tear in the eye large splinter in the heart endless sorrow and the question; why? (pic from internet)

جدار الصمت سمر الديك                                                          ناديتُكَ مرّةً بلْ مرّات يغتالني صمتي بالمئات وأنتَ قابعٌ في الغيمات لأجلكَ سأعتلي النجمات وأبحرُ عبرَ الغيمات سأتحرى عنكَ كلَّ الأخبار أجوبُ الأزقّةَ والطرقات وأمشّطُ أرصفةَ الطرقات وأختزلُ المسافات حتى ألتقيك لنكتبَ معاً الحكايات حكايةحبٍّ لاتنتهي 28/12/2019. سمر الديك سوريا الإقامة فرنسا

REPUBLIC OF WINTER Rahim Karim karimov                                                               We head to a cold country Where beloved lives only whiteness. Into an endless valley, a wide steppe, The Republic of Dreams named Winter. Where the trees are waiting green, shaggy, Which autumn gold is not a decree! Where the spirit rests from the darkness of hearts To cure the soul on the bliss of snowy tracks. Where the flags are white, white - houses, palaces, Where the glare of the sun, silently, freeze in the snow. Where starlings are happy in birdhouses, Where you will meet a fairy tale again, in reality. This world of memories is a canvas, a screen, Will show about the past sound movie. A crunchy step will write a novel about you Icicles will be treated where white wine is. This boundless land beckons yo...

Wirja Taufan                                                     Kill Death I feel death In the middle of a puddle of my footprints There is no love, no flowers and butterflies I tried to stand up Without my feet Inserting my fingers into my poetry books Betrayal and lies Looted my universe Bring my footsteps into their river I lost my steps Where I will kill my death Bring new life Without wings of fire and death Medan, Indonesia, 2019