Biography of Mihaela Pirjol
Mihaela Pirjol lives in Paphos, on the Island of Cyprus—Aphrodite’s birthplace—a peaceful town, rich in culture and mythology, beautiful seashores, and abundant all-year-round sunshine: the poetic inspiration for her sensitive soul. She discovered her passion for Poetry at the age of ten, when the school offered to her a volume of poems by Rainer Maria Rilke.
Mihaela Pirjol's Works:
- Enigmatic Echoes -new-
- Writing: Monologue -new-
- Latent Concepts -new-
- Re-Encounter (Senryu) -new-
- Birth And Death (Monoku) -new-
- Aurora Borealis (Haiku) -new-
- Flirting With Fantasies -new-
- Wanderings (Surrealist Poem) -new-
- Echoes Of Memory -new-
- Let Us Wine And Dine For A Lifetime!
- Sap (Surrealist Poem)
Mihaela Pirjol Poems
We cannot aspire to that, which is already dead, And there is no solace in delusion; We should save the present for future memories; Thus, to remember we had a life we lived.
Lucidity Of Love (Tanka)
everything we know contradicts the mind of heart everything unknown unveils its mystery when
Speak To Me
Speak to me when I am lonesome, weak, and sad;
Celebration Of Life
Come! Join, and celebrate the Feast of Life! Let us bathe in turquoise waters, free, as fish are; Let our bodies swim with the aquatic currents In saline refreshment, delighting our senses:
Fears in heart, fears in mind, For them reason I can't find; Fears in love, and of unknown, Of the wind and what may blow:
I dreamt I left this body, Transcending mortal sin; And to remember, hardly, I on Earth to ever been.
You Go, My Love...You Go...
You go, my love...you go... And I will carry on waiting for you, As I always do:
Oasis of love— delight of my heart! Timidly, emerging from my memories…
When Love Was Young
I forgot your eyes open in my heart; Whenever I close mine, you look at me: Would that look ever meet my eyes again? Would my heart ever bounce gleefully
Immersion In Sunshine
The sunshine is sliding down in vertical iridescent streams... beautifying my senses, illuming my mind:
Frame Of Memory
In the photographic frame of memory,
So Empty Is My Heart...
So empty is my heart… As if, she never loved and hoped; As if, she has stopped… What love will make her start?
Sap (Surrealist Poem)
Erected snakes the tongues of the plants,
succulent verdure: the Secretion of Nature:
juices—the sap of life.
Gelatinous aloe vera, porcupine-cacti,
traces of slow mucous snails salivating,
dried in the sun—translucent flakes, rainbows
curving with the voluptuousness of the serpents
elevating the venom in split-tongued heads,
serpentining towards the sky. Piercing claws