Maria Magdalena Biela
Biography of Maria Magdalena Biela
I am a citizen of this wonderful world.
Maria Magdalena Biela's Works:
Tuliruusu / Trandafirul de foc,2003, translated classic poems from Finnish into Romanian language.
Hilja / Tacere,2005, translated poems of the Finnish poet Hilja Onerva Lehtinen into Romanian language.
Mountain Ash,2013, essays, acrostics, translated poems from Finnish into English language.
Maria Magdalena Biela Poems
The Empty Room
I stood silently watching the room it was my last time there.
Weep No More, My Willow Tree!
Weep no more, my Willow Tree! Fill by tears the ruffled Sea. Shiver not, hold your breath still. An it harm none, do as ye will.
Written On The Wind
Written on the wind Written on the wind the words came one day, shivering, and tired, and confused.
The Wedding Photo
They stood there smiling in black and white holding their fingers tender and tight. They knew the secrets of a past tense heart they knew of a future 'till death do us part'.
A Losing Hand
Now we gamble on our love. We shared the feelings equally and all bets are off. I open with a fear
Franciscae Meae Laudes
Novis te cantabo chordis, O novelletum quod ludis In solitudine cordis.
Analfabetilor / You, Illiterates
V-am spus ca sunt un om periculos Si nu mi-ati luat avertismentu-n seama. V-am spus s-aveti pentru persoana mea Un plus de-ngrijorare si de teama.
The Actor And The Savages
I saw the scene full of flowers and I saw the Actor choking, drowned in petals, leaves, which entered his mouth, nostrils, ears, covering him until nothing was left of him. Poor Actor. What a death! Smothered by the flowers of the audience who loved him, who came young and old together to see him, to applaud him, to shout his name, to show their love and admiration for his talent, for the beauty of his art, for the gift he had been bestowed upon to give life to words. The crowd had come with good intentions, with admirable intentions; the public came with huge bouquets of flowers, live intense flowers, fragrant flowers destined to celebrate the art, the artist, the Actor. The audience had come to hear him, the Actor, to drink his words and memorize them, learn them by heart, to be transmitted to their children and their children's children as a priceless heritage.
I Thee Wed
She wasn't taller than her doll-house. She was still writing to Santa Claus. Dark curly hair and wide open eyes she piously kneeled piercing the skies.
Dot The I
It is your birthday. I wish you well. In my humble soul you will always dwell. I dried my memories, I answered my ”why” With my silence I dot the i.
I Kid You Not
My eyes tell always: 'I shan't! ' when people want the hunters' hunt, yet, in their hunt I have been caught, I kid you not.
Her eyes were shivering a tear while the old year was shot she softly sighed 'Happy New Year! ' And dried the tearful thought.
The Wounded Healer
This humanity blinded
Primavara / Spring
A cunoaste. A iubi Înc-o data, iar si iara a cunoaste-nseamna iarna a iubi e primavara.
Reveal your self and let me feel
Inside your soul that’s closed with a seal
Canvas of thoughts, colours of dream,
Harpist of senses that shyly gleam
Are you the Only? Are you the One?
Redeeming the words from Death’s caravan?
Do what you must for Love, be Madman!
Just be the Poet, give life to words!