Painting by Tyoma Wind of Solitude   What wind of solitude, cunning and strange, is gusting wildly through this little night? Why does it come, relentless, galloping on,

Painting by Rauf Janlbekov, Azerbaijan     AGAINST THE TIDE   Poetry seeks its path against the tide. It cannot change the path of man whose future is

Painting by Frans Minnaert, collection Ithaca Foundation   I Can’t Love You  I feel your beautiful heart, And I can sense all the romantic stars of the night,

Painting Biagio Fortini, Italy Genesis Every poem begins in the morning, with the sun. Even if the poem is not visible (that means rainy sky) the poem is

Photo Germain Droogenbroodt   12 February 1983 His age, a lot of wrinkles. He wasn’t always like that; he used to drink red wine; once he felt guilty,

Picture by Germain Droogenbroodt   Tale of a Faithful Wife When you winged to a distant land of blue mountains, I didn’t weep badly as faithful wives do,

With our best Wishes for the New Year Heaven’s Gate, Varenna, Como Lake, by Walfrido   A New Year Without War At the rim of the widening gyre

Painting by Pablo Picasso PEACE DOVE a poem for Christmas Behind the gentle ripples of the sea the dawning day paints on the canvas of the horizon the

Painting by Biagio Fortini, Italy I talk ceaselessly I talk ceaselessly about the subtle difference between women and trees, about the magic of the earth, about a country

Painting by Jinta Hirayama, Japan   WE WERE ALL BLOWN AWAY   We were all blown away Blown to the right Blown to the left Blown this way