Magdalena Biela

Magdalena Biela Poems

Written on the wind

Written on the wind the words came one day,
shivering, and tired, and confused.

This Autumn I mourn
the fear of a leaf
who paid to October
a fistful of days

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.

I stood silently watching the room

it was my last time there.

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.

Flaming glowing moon, sleeplessness moon,
Overbearing, foolishness, in the heart of June
Mercilessly you torment my eyelids to falter,
I am hit by your ray like a boat by water.


It was like a shell
without a pearl

Sono seduta da così tanto tempo
in questa stazione
senza nome
che confondo i treni che arrivano

Please, let me live, give me a chance

of life on Earth to have a glance,

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'.

Eu cred că suntem un popor vegetal,
De unde altfel liniştea
În care aşteptăm desfrunzirea?
De unde curajul

This humanity


Now we gamble on our love.
We shared the feelings equally
and all bets are off.
I open with a fear

Novis te cantabo chordis,
O novelletum quod ludis
In solitudine cordis.

A happy birthday to you, my heart beat!
May love and laughter light your every day!
May peace and wisdom bless your every way,
and may you never steal, or lie, or cheat!

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.

La lluvia tiene un vago secreto de ternura,
algo de somnolencia resignada y amable,
una música humilde se despierta con ella
que hace vibrar el alma dormida del paisaje.

From Now Until It's Now Again

I'd like to be a drop of rain,

... atâtea dulci dureri în carnea primăverii,
când moartea e doar un pariu al primului sărut,
și-n ochiul obosit se perindă năvalnic
ceruri cu tot strigătul lor mut,

În noaptea ceruită-n pleoape,
cu frunze de tăcere
te-ncolăcești de umbra mea
tu, floare a surdei plecări,

Magdalena Biela Biography

I am a citizen of this wonderful world.)

The Best Poem Of Magdalena Biela

Written On The Wind

Written on the wind

Written on the wind the words came one day,
shivering, and tired, and confused.
Lost was their meaning, wand'ring all the way.
They fell on my lips deadly mused.

I've buried them kindly in my mind's willing ear,
and I opened forgotten locked thoughts.
As a flame lights a shadow and the truth ends the fear,
I was hearing the connected dots.

They were telling a story that came from beyond,
from my people that wanted me free.
All their dying words were for me a blood bond,
a life breath, a life scent, a life plea.

So I've listened to the wind, that told me: 'It's time,
time for you to go and forget.
You belong to the rainbow, to the stars' dust and chime,
to a world without fear and regret.

You shall fly once again to a land that's unknown,
you shall open your heart yet again.
You shall love those new people and call them your own'.

Then I kissed the words with no pain.

29.06.2014 Finland

Maria Magdalena Biela

Magdalena Biela Comments

Louis Cordoba 21 February 2014

To write poetry these days it is not easy task, considering that everybody or almost everybody thinks: been there, read that. It is refreshing every once in awhile to read poems that brings emotions to the surface inside one's heart. Maybe because Maddalena wasn't born in English language her poems are closer to everyone's heart than the poems conceived by a native writer. She brings to life and poetry those words that a native of English would not, or maybe would but in other forms, structures. This is her charm, the beauty of her poems: the simplicity yet the great significance of her words. A magic wand indeed she hides deep inside her English language: she ain't kidding!

2 0 Reply
Mika Peltola 21 February 2014

It is a daring and challenging thing to try conceiving poetry in a language that is not one's mother tongue. This process alone requires a vast knowledge of the language, a deep and innermost feeling of its cultural and linguistic roots. To write poetry is an Art that relates the Creator to its Creation.

3 0 Reply

Magdalena Biela Quotes

Silloin kun ei enää jaksa olla onneton, on onnellinen. L. Onerva

When the glass seems to be half empty, add tequila 🥰‼️

I'm worth every sin👌‼️

Throw me to the wolves and I'll return leading the pack😋‼️

Ways to my heart: make me food, buy me food, BE food 😜‼️

I like my coffee as I am: dark, bitter, hot😋‼️

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