Poems by Natalie Bisso

Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού

Natalie Bisso is a poet, novelist, essayist, and songwriter. Author of 11 collections, co-author in more than 120 international anthologies. The poems have been translated into 36 languages of the world. Honorary Figure of World Literature and Arts. President of the Creative Tribune Association ILACT), Academician of three Academies, Head Of the German Branch SPSA. Honorary President of a MIL MENTES POR MEXICO  and an international jury in Germany, Honorary Member of the Union of Spanish-language Writers (UHE). Advisor to the international publication of Chinese Literature (Federation of Literary and Artistic communities of Hubei)), member of the Jury of international competitions.


I will return to summer with longing, reading thoughts,
Heat and heat, at times, tormented the body,
And the eyes were madly wandered, and stopped somewhere,
And the sun was flying the sand, smouldering on the leaves.

It seemed like there would be no end to it
That heat of forty-degree hell,
The lakes are empty, the rivers are dry,
But for the fruits, the heat was a reward.

Bunches of grapes hung down and poured
Nectar sweets like an amber tear,
A ray of sunshine played, falling in love with grapes,
Pouring out my soul to him.

But after all, once the heat goes into autumn,
The crowns turn yellow, the foliage falls,
The cold drizzling rain will be unbearable,
The wind will tear the leaves like words.

You can’t stop running in time, in space,
And no matter how long you chase seconds
The natural cycle consists in natural constancy,
Our life is there at any moment of summer.


Let it be in this cold long winter
You will meet a warm, handsome man,
Hugs, warms, looks into the eyes,
Your heart will beat faster with happiness.

The smile will light up with a clear ray,
With him, all the bad weather is already over,
He is strong, reliable, he is loyal and brave,
Let it be warm with him in the snowdrifts of those whites.

And you will even like snowstorms,
And looking after you, someone will jealously say:
What a beautiful couple went,
Probably, winter brought these two together.

WRITE WHILE YOU’RE BREATHINGWrite while you’re breathing! Hurricane
Turn in your direction, it’s your turn,
And the thought is your guest, sometimes unexpected,
Stop at your gate.

Past hopes and excuses
You will not find it in a piece of paradise,
And your unjustified wanderings
Like a forest, he will appear before God.

And at this moment, simple and strange,
You, so driven by a sense of revenge,
left your dear father’s house
without healing your wounds.

You are taking revenge on yourself for the stinginess of words,
For not sleeping at night,
For the fact that the poems are ready again,
Which is probably a penny price.

A vendetta that burns in the mind,
Perhaps your best strategist,
Write as if you are in exile,
Prepare tactics, escape.

Write while you’re breathing! In a foggy moment
Do you follow the rhythm of the lines,
You will find the desired flower of love,
And exhale the desired syllable.

Vendetta* – revenge