Un adieu à moi-même 🌹

Hasan B.I Solim

Quand ces tables se coloraient par les douces couleurs de mon enfance 🎨

Quand ces nuits se réveillaient par les doux cris d’enfance 🌙

Quand les regards ne portaient pas encore de préjugés 👀

Quand les bouches ne crachaient pas encore de poison 💔

Quand les sourires sortaient ouvertement des lèvres 😊

Quand les pleurs sortaient librement des yeux 😢

Quand ces yeux se levaient pour regarder nos parents 👪

Quand ces mains n’étaient que poussière dans les leurs 👐

En grandissant, nous gagnons la valeur de l’apprentissage 📚

En grandissant, nous perdons la beauté de l’enfantillage 🧸

Oh que le temps passe vite, mais quelle belle illusion qu’il donne ⏳

Qui nous berce à travers le passage de la vie 🕰️

Tel l’enfant qui dort maintenant en nous 👼

Student at University of Mauritius.

This time…

by

Agron Shele (Albania – Belgium)
Email: atunisgalaktika@gmail.com
Web page: https://atunispoetry.com/
Nr telef: 0032 498 736371

This time ,
When you hear the rain that falls over the bare trees from a bronze sky
And the rows of ravens all yellow
You ask yourself
Why only a tree stands tall ?
In an empty park , lonely rotting day by day
Why do you care ?
Maybe because that reminds you the time that has passed
And you feel more older than ever
Like a lonely bird abandoned when the winter comes
Surviving is the only chance

This time ,
When your thoughts are lost
And your face shows nothing more than sadness
In pale colours remained tattoo over your filthy skin
That is when you feel the touch of the last season
That is what reminds you of the long starry nights
All of this turns your spirit blue

….when the time passes
You can only see a rainbow that stares over an old church
Acrylic glass
You can only hear the whispers of monks as they go
But you can’t hear the bell
What does that mean ?
You feel like an old abused statue with crossed arms
You wait for your sins to be forgiven
If only it was that easy
But no , your demons consume your soul every day
Your disgusting devious eyes only stare at one thing
The only
The innocent saint Magdalene

Translated into English by Peter Tase

Agron Shele (Albania – Belgium)
https://atunispoetry.com/

Agron Shele was born in October 7th, 1972, in the Village of Leskaj, city of Permet, Albania. Is the author of the following literary works: “The Steps of Clara” (Novel), “Beyond a grey curtain” (Novel), “Wrong Image” (novel), “Innocent Passage” (poetry), White stones (poetry) RIME SPARSE-Il suono di due voci poetiche del Mediterraneo (Poesie di Agron Shele e Claudia Piccinno), La mia Musa (“Libri di-versi in diversi libri” – Italy, 2020); Murmure d’un autre monde (poetry), Klisania, Queen of the lake (Short story) and “Ese-I and Ese-II)”. Agron Shele is also the coordinator of International Anthologies: “Open Lane-1”, “Pegasiada, Open Lane-2, ATUNIS magazine (Nr 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 )” and Atunis Galaxy Anthology 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023. He is the winner of some international literary prizes. Is a member of the Albanian Association of Writers, member of the World Writers Association, in Ohio, United States, Poetas del Mundo, WPS, Unione world Poetry and the President of the International Poetical Galaxy “Atunis”. He is published in many newspapers, national and international magazines, as well as published in many global anthologies: Almanac 2008, 2017; World Poetry Yearbook 2009, 2013, 2015, The Second Genesis-2013, Kibatek 2015-Italy, Metafora (Poland), Keleno-Greece, etc. Currently resides in Belgium and continues to dedicate his time and efforts in publishing literary works with universal values.

A mother’s love, cherish it before it’s too late.

by

R.L

Lucky are those whose mothers are still here,

Learn to value people before it’s too late

Mother’s love is the best love,

Life is short and so is the time you spend with your mother

Love her eternally, for all you know, she could no longer be here tomorrow.

Mom, the first words we whisper,

She who first holds our hands and teaches us to walk .

She who teaches us to write our names.

In her arms, I found comfort,

Her smile, a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day,

Guiding me towards the right path,

Giving me advice

Her voice, so sweet, like a melody

I could listen to it all day long

Oh how I wish you were still here mother,

I cry at night, wishing you didn’t leave so soon,

If only we had gotten some more time to spend together,

Love your mother before it’s too late

I love you mom

She’s the Ocean

by

Modhyni Aayushi Doorgasing

She’s the ocean.
The solemn sea,
which is one along the infinite skies, spreads her words along the shoreline of sand.

You will never know what she hides behind her sultry eyes
by gliding the surface and the dry land.
Her watery soul runs forthwith in silence
and in her fathomless womb.

Oh! How calmness dwells in her rivulets,
covering us with her soft tapestry and lulling us to sleep.
She’s the river that breaks away the mightiest of hills and rocks,
destroying myths and hypes through her intellect alone.

She’s the ocean.
Her coral cathedrals give pause to the brave.
Entities reside within her vessels, eager to dive into the unfathomed youths.
The ocean is an effigy of beautiful patchwork,
from which she gives rise to sweet pearls and immutable truths.
Shining splendidly where on earth she carved heavenly lustre.

The ocean is a walking female on both waning and waxing waves,
wrapped in melodious symphonies of the breeze between haven and shore.
Gently, she wipes away our deluge of tears.

In her fevers, she rages in tranquillity,
but in her negligence, she ravages without her sanity from where sunlight can reach no more.

She’s the majesty of the earth; she tosses to turn
and rises to fall with her undulating and ubiquitous hips.
Deep in her depths, the waves ripple and cleanse our bruises delicately.

The ocean is a woman.
The one whom I pulled during stormy days.
She’s you, she’s me, and she’s us.

Born in 2003, Modhyni Aayushi Doorgasing, a young poet always had the sincere endeavour to write her own book since her very tender age. Her odes have been published several times in the local newspapers.

Review of Mauritius Caught in a Dream

by

Leena Auckel Chakoury

Cover: The cover shows our beautiful island amidst the Turquoise ocean and Azure sky depicting the famous underwater waterfall.

The book welcomes you with celebrated quotes on Mauritius by Mark Twain and Nelson Mandela.

The beauty of this compilation lies in the fact that it brought together Mauritian and international writers alike to sing odes to our beautiful island. The opening poem is titled ‘Islander’s vibe’ which is my own piece depicting Mauritius from A to Z , starting with a portrayal of its nature and ending with a zen sega vibe. Next we come across a piece by an author who wishes ‘to leaves print of my foot in Mauritius. The title poem ‘ Mauritius caught in a dream’ by the editor herself greets you few pages after with her prose on the beautiful scenery of Mauritius, the credit of which she devotes to the Almighty.

Locals describes the Mauritius of their childhood, how they had fun and frolic amidst the nature of our little island. Others have sung praises of the unsung heroes and sacrifices entailed to get our independence. The poems reflect the diversity, culture and even the music of the island as we see in ‘Jalsa- a reflection.’

While foreigners describe how our island is their recluse and unwinding nest and even the ‘African Paradise’. The diverse poem rings with the experiences of those who have visited Mauritius and you get whiffs of a anticipation from those who wish to come here.

Each poem paints Mauritius in different strokes, the end results being a beautiful mosaic of Mauritianism. The book is a must-have from patriots and foreigner wishing to visit our island alike.

Leena Auckel Chakoury is presently working as a Medical Doctor. Her poems have been published in various International online magazines like – Spillwords, ActiveMuse and Inkdew Times. Her poems and short-stories have received numerous accolades and winning certificates across various online Poetry platforms. She shares her motivational quotes and poetry via her Facebook page – Sun-kissed Ink. This year she has realized her dream of being a published author by publishing her collection of poems “ Of Bridges and Whispers” in November.

Awards:

· She was awarded Emerging Influential Woman in the field of Arts and Culture for the Women of The Year 2021 Awards.

· She has been recently conveyed the title Remarkable Icon of the Year 2022 by the APDH Foundation and National Human Rights and Humanitarian Federation.

· She was awarded Woman of Excellence Award for the year 2023

Demain, Mon Ile

Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Demain,
Mon île, tu te réveilleras
Sous une nouvelle aube qui te chantera
De la nécessité
De trouver le bonheur dans la simplicité
Que notre monde nous offre !

Demain,
Mon île, tu inspireras
Les terres en conflit avec elles-mêmes
Du besoin d’être reconnaissant
Pour toutes ces choses que nous
Prenons pour acquis
Mais qui peuvent briser notre forteresse
En quelques secondes si on nous les arrache !

Demain, mon île,
Demain,
Ton peuple allumera ses bougies intérieures
Et chantera à la gloire de ton passé, de ton mystère,
De ton avenir
Et de ton combat
Simplement pour te construire et te façonner
En une immense forêt tropicale,
Capable de résister aux tempêtes et aux tsunamis,
Car ses racines seront bien ancrées dans le sol
Et son tronc sera solide en lui-même
Alors que ses branches et ses feuilles abriteront
Ceux qui en ont besoin !

Anoucheka Gangabissoon is a Primary School Educator in Mauritius. She writes poetry and short stories as hobby. Her writings have been acclaimed at both the national and the international level.

She

by

Pushmaotee Subrun

She was aborted a million times when she was an embryo,

She was widowed even before knowing she married,

She wore the grey nun’s garment before she understood why,

She was raped when she was a baby of six months old,

She was not spared either at eighteen,

Or at the age of eighty,

She was mutilated and deprived

Of the God given seat of pleasure on reaching puberty,

She was stoned to death in the name of honour killings.

She was given capacity to love but not allowed to love…

She became the wife with stars in her eyes but soon disillusioned,

She was used as a machine to procreate,

She was abused, beaten black and blue and used again,

Where is equality, justice and human dignity?

Why talk of a just world when so much has still to be realized?

Why so much of yearly publicity on Women’s Day

Rabindranath Tagore rightly said,

The clear stream of reason has lost its way

Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit.

Pushmaotee Subrun is the author of: ‘Ella’, ‘Who is Your Best Friend?’, ‘Short Stories and Fables’, ‘A lyrical bouquet of Soulful Poems’, ‘Dreams to Reality’ and ‘Ripples of Elevated Verses’. Her poems feature in several anthologies and prestigious online magazines. She was selected by ‘Destiny Poets’ as Poet of the Year – ICOP Awards 2019. She was honoured by Gujarat Sahitya Academy in 2020 and 2021. She was Poet of the Year 2022 in ‘Inkdew Indew’. In 2023, she was among the most favourite 3 World Gogyoshi organised by founder of World Gogyoshi, Taro Aizu.

Broken Mirror

by

Aneeza Soobadar

Every time she glimpses at her reflection

She wants to break the mirror into smithereens

The lies and deceits that have spiralled her into oblivion

Are dousing her into flames, as she is careening

Through her senseless life in quest of salvation

And breaking free from the shackles of people, oh so mean

Broken promises, truths clothed with parodies

As she watches her life becoming a caricature

As she gazes at her pregnant belly and still feels no empathy

For the little being soon ending its womb tenure

An innocent little one, who has been lodged with force in all agony

In the complete absence of love as ordained by a most ballistic nature

Shame and pain, pain and shame

She cannot unwind, she will never abandon

Yet the child will be a constant reminder of acts so insane

She has been through, when it ought to have been a cushion

That paves the way to an immense joy, which is that of motherhood

Alas! Alone she will have to raise, alone she will have to face

It will be a long way before she will be out of the woods

But what can she do if that’s her fate

The fate of a woman who has seen her world robbed before it even started

While still in her teething years of adulthood

The fate of a woman who has no say at all

And yet she is standing and facing them all

Aneeza Soobadar holds a Doctorate in ‘Science Agronomiques” from France and an MBA in Leadership and Innovation, Mauritius. She enjoys reading and writing having dabbled into writing short stories and poems during her teenage years. She is currently Research Manager at the Mauritius Cane Industry Institute.

I am Woman

by

Anoucheka Gangabissoon

I am woman
Made of flames and fire
Of softness and sensuality
Of gullibility and guts
Of intuition and instinct
Of creation and cosmic power
Of dew droplets and desirous fluids!

I am woman
I have in me
Rights imprinted on my flag
Laws carved out on my soul
And respect brandished on my banner!

I am woman
Made of beauty and brains
Of cyclones and summers
Of chills and winters
I am woman,
My body is my temple
Created by a power over which
I have no hold
Meant to be used as a tool of seduction
To entice the other part of my soul
The only one to whom
I give the sacred permission
To play me
As if,
I were the keys of a piano
Or the strings of a guitar!

Why,
I am woman
My essence
Curvy and swaying
Is held in an invisible cage
Held tight by a padlock
A padlock ignited by the rules of moral principles
As have been decried
By those higher powers watching over me from afar!

I am woman
I seek not power
I seek,
Rather,
Respect!

Bestow it upon me
And I shall give you
Ripe fruits
Red and juicy
From the orchard of my abilities
As have been deemed to be my duty’s lot
Before I even took birth!

Anoucheka Gangabissoon is a Primary School Educator in Mauritius. She writes poetry and short stories as hobby. Her writings have been acclaimed at both national and international level.