English tea

[Diabolis]

A brand new wed
In a month of med
And a preowned car
So sweet and so rare.

A brand new car
To ran far so far
From a preowned wed
My head, O my head.

[Diabolis]

The old soldiers

Like shells forgotten after the war,
Left everywhere through the trenches,
The old soldiers,
Fortunate, friends-killed.
Like shells disbanded after a volley of shots
Down-fall in the middle of rain into the mud,
The old soldiers,
dark-faced, heart-broken.
Like shells with ex name of bullets,
In the years one name is given,
The old soldiers,
Veterans, fighters.
Like shells with fragrance of dry powder,
Parched and burned into the fire,
The old soldiers,
Bending over the graves of the young
soldiers.

[Diabolis]

Mía corazón, mía corazón,

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
The Spaniard with guitar sing a song;
On the table she is tip-taping steps
With the magnificence of the Arabian horse.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
His fingers obtain crushes in the cords;
Clank-clank, she doing with castanets,
The life of the Riviera is coagulated.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
His shirt the whiteness of the morn,
Her dress with pleats in red and black,
Her hair combed like a chignon.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
The moon no more is going on,
Higher the silent comets are burning off,
Shadows of horses running forlorn.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
Your love it is my salvation,
Mía amor, mía muçaçita (amiga);
Clank-clank, I am señorita.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
Among the cups she hurls her heels,
While drinking the midnight has came,
And cuñada began to dance.

Mía corazón, mía corazón,
Of the Spanish eye is falling blood,
As the bull stabbed by swords,
The night dies beneath her legs.

[Diabolis]

Poetic verses on sale

The poet is selling in the sidewalk,
Waiting for passers to buy any book.
Where books are valued by weights,
Paper in pounds, then, pounds of cardboards!

‘Poetic verses on sale ... verses …’
On the winter’s soul drowsiness,
‘Your sight is stab in my heart,
Don’t look at me thus, Homer, o bard.’

The police arrive unexpectedly,
Poet has no license from municipality!
He grabs his verses and flees like pickpocket,
Goes selling them on the flea market.

‘Come on, poetic verses, verses ... good one ...
Three poetry hundred cents or so a poem.’
‘You didn’t paid the market’s fee so far’ -
And Tax Collector draws a bill from Omar.

But verses like peoples some day dying,
That’s why the poet verses bag is tying,
For a cup of wine he turns to the bar,
For a bite bread and lips of a fairy.

Hey bartender! Chockfull mine cups,
I will drink hundred and one toasts.
First one.... the graves run out on cemetery!
Cheers! Soapy fate or poet fate, O’ Henry!

[Diabolis]

When the midnight gives up her darkest blue,
I’m Phantom of the Colonnade - your fellow,
You knock and speak “My dear, where are you?”
And look as the sky starts turning yellow.

See how from stars falls down magic dust,
And marbles from the light glimmer white.
Then start to dance - the same as in the past,
You will be sprinkled with the divine light.

Get lost in time, fugue upon your heels,
Just smile and dance, and deeply breath,
Lean back, I will softly hold your waist,

To lift and spin you away from this earth,
Around the blue you will be able to fly-
Below the slabs, a tear, I should go cry.

[Diabolis]

Modern makeover

In a big city of oldest best lore
Lived a good man named Mr. Dudum,
One day he saw in the pet store
A so called ‘bookshelf aquarium’.

He paid for that thing immediately
Using an unlimited credit card;
And fixed it on bookshelf permanently-
Forty books were forced to depart!

Doing so, he removed one shelf,
Later he did throw the books on the street,
But was as happy inside himself
For the modern makeover he did.

What clear waters! For he never feed
Because he didn’t know how to pet;
Days later beautiful fishy were dead,
He called 911 but, was late, too late.

[Diabolis]

First date story

Then, I told him up front,
On tears: don’t, please don’t,
You stepped on my callus wound.

Perhaps I was terribly late,
One can’t turn her fate:
We kissed on our first date!

Of course that’s not all, Nelly,
Look, look upon my belly
Daresay I expect a baby.

We used three protections
With similar rejections;
That was fourth erection.

[Henri]

Diabolis, nuk rri dot pa te thene asgje (me sakte nuk rri dot pa te thene ndonje gje se do me haje truri pastaj):

te lumte dora e madhe :)

[Diabolis]

Door-mans

As marshals of a war undone,
Over Manhattan, door-mans, alone.
Covered with their ancient coats
By the banks of a river that floats.

Mimicking unknown bird’s whistle
They arisen arm the only missile-
Aimed friendly at the yellow target:
Sometimes they miss, always they get.

Rain silence, no voices in distant,
Leant on the doors their adjutants,
Quite umbrellas, and so, so quiet,
As sky turn green, yellow, red light.

[Diabolis]

Mom’s birthday

Our dear little cottage,
The door’s number tells your age?
Is right answer thirty one?
Please, please, tell us mom!

We always will love you:
Thirty one and thirty two,
Or when circles on the tree
Will sign there thirty three,

Or when stranger knock on door
Will call you for thirty four,
Or when spring flowers thrive
All together make thirty five.

Thirty five or thirty six,
Kisses and loves, bouquet mix;
When you turn thirty seven,
Love will spread all the heaven.

Our fireworks, bright and great
Will shine your sky at thirty eight.
When you peak at thirty nine
Turn that grape to sparkling wine.

Light hundred candles, light a torch,
Seat and wait for us at the porch;
We will sing with joy and cheer:
Love you mom! Happy birthday!