Paul Hartal


Paul Hartal Poems

1. Obelisks 9/29/2011
2. I Dream The Dreams Of Shepherds 9/29/2011
3. My Life 9/29/2011
4. Talking Back To Parmenides 9/29/2011
5. Venus And Candor 9/29/2011
6. Piano Tunes 9/29/2011
7. Slanted Eyes (Yeux Bridés) 9/29/2011
8. Fear 9/29/2011
9. For Miklós Radnóti 9/29/2011
10. Weeds And Hyacinths 10/1/2011
11. Immortality 10/1/2011
12. Valentine's Day 10/1/2011
13. Woman With Train 10/1/2011
14. The Hiding God 10/1/2011
15. The Kiss 10/1/2011
16. Scarlet Flower 10/1/2011
17. Whispering Forest 10/2/2011
18. A Paradox Of Truth 10/2/2011
19. The Garden Of Questions 10/2/2011
20. Past And Present 9/30/2011
21. The Chestnut Tree (For Anne Frank) 9/30/2011
22. Like Old Wine 9/30/2011
23. Grandma 10/3/2011
24. Samurai Competition 10/3/2011
25. Painting For Hitler 10/3/2011
26. Meeting In Belsen 10/3/2011
27. Colors Of Silence 10/3/2011
28. By Act Of Legislation 10/4/2011
29. From The Secret Life Of Tuesday 10/4/2011
30. Atheism Compliments God 10/4/2011
31. The Sunset Splashes 10/4/2011
32. Change 10/4/2011
33. Batman Combats Oscar Wilde 10/4/2011
34. Camp Concerts 10/4/2011
35. Until We Meet Again 10/5/2011
36. The Dancer Of Melody Palace 10/5/2011
37. Postmodern Light 10/5/2011
38. The Searcher 10/4/2011
39. Lilac Blouse 10/4/2011
40. You Are Not The Wind 10/5/2011
Best Poem of Paul Hartal

Oranges And Grapes

Oranges and grapes refuse to grow in the cold.
Today I sing and dance, refuse to grow old.
Yet all the same, time is tyrant and ruthless,
Unfolds my wrinkling years, it is relentless.

Now and then the lots seem to be gentle and kind,
But alloyed with fate the somnambulist is blind.
Luck and fortuity might act as a soubrette,
Life spins our fate like roulette in a film set.

Still, let us drink to life, celebrate, and be glad,
Let us sing and dance today, refuse to be sad.
Oranges and grapes do not grow in the cold,
A warm wind ties ribbons to maple ...

Read the full of Oranges And Grapes

Venus And Candor

Beauty is not truth
But a transient mask’s shadow
Across the foamy sky
Opaque flight
Separated from the blue fire bird
Of a convulsive life.

In dazzling charm
Narcissus may revel

[Hata Bildir]