Marieta Maglas was born in Romania and she graduated the University of Medicine in 1987.She has been writing poetry since 1977.
Marieta Maglas is a Romanian poetess. She has appeared in some journals, including the Velvetillusion Literary Magazine Alabama, The Secret (La Revista) Italy, FWM Magazine US, Tr? n Thu Trang and some others. She has been nominated at International Festival of Poetry in Vancouver, Canada, and in Mexico. Her poems were selected, and published on some anthologies A Poet’s View of Being, a collection of poems by Brian Wrixon (Canada) , Watching You Leonard Dabydeen (Xlibris) .She was awarded as legendary poet by Poetry.com. She is the author of some poetry ... more »
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Marieta Maglas Poems
This game is the way in which slaughter becomes an end in itself. Acta est fabula plaudite The play has been performed; applaud!
Your Words of Love
I have seemingly missed your words of love, Those words that were written in the sand And erased by the first wave. Do you remember, my love?
If we combined The perfectly good and the perfectly evil, We would obtain the imperfection. If we took a piece of paradise
Shadow Of life
I am a victim and you know that I know this. Je suis une victime et vous savez que je le sais. You say that you love me,
A Delicate Rainy Morning
If I felt that you had been here, it was because your angel would have touched me with his wing like a breeze, and you would have been here with him
A Princess Of Romanian Folk Died
Romania is in mourning. A princess of Romanian folk died A few hours ago. There will be many trees on this land
Kiss My Soul
If that morning would be my ideal incredible readiness, In a forgotten time of the tellurium and most desirable land Your certain love would come to utter my vivid happiness Kissing closed eyelids, caressing them with your tender hand.
A Ray of Sun
While drawing a circle, A ray of sun that slips on your sad face Is not only a ray, it is the light. Moreover, my feelings
+ In Search of the Perfect Chess Mate ++
Embedding new rules in a new arrangement and having a new strategy The white king is driving the opposing king to the wrong corner, for being controlled by the bishop. The white king is very rich. He takes seemingly worthless properties from his own people
I'm drawing a circle, Which is concentrically diminishing, With each gliding of the pencil on the paper, Until it becomes a spiral.
+An Incurable Kiss+++
Your steps Are frightening the red leaves Of an imaginary tree….. Your sight
Making A Child
Making a child For giving love a dual name. For saving its own sense.
You are my everything 'Cause in everything I do Is always a part of you And because I think of you.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
This game is the way in which slaughter becomes an end in itself.
Acta est fabula plaudite
The play has been performed; applaud!
Surely, less obvious ways exist
The Darkness seeks to manipulate us into its service.
Actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea.
The act is not guilty unless the mind is also guilty.
Once all of them have won a very special princess prize,
the game is over....
and they will never buy another one.....
Alis grave nil.
Nothing is heavy to those who have wings
And maybe we cannot understand what's going...