*** One day the sun will become just another cold star In someone else’s night sky. One night your eye will turn to just another coffee plant In someone else’s…
*** The dusk came suddenly, in purple. Worth my entire library, All greatest symphonies, World’s best cinematography, Each marvellous museum. It’s sunset! The sunset I have read, Articulated, I have…
*** My daily trek with gentle rises and falls In tiger-coloured peaks of sand, Along a dune belt. I stop to catch my breath And sunset. The rose pinks and…
*** This is a strange winter: A nymph is chased by lavender tea smells. Fleur de Sel dawns. Sands laid with flowers. Swirls of chicory leaves in the mouth. Lady…
Dec 14, 2020 KOKSIJDE, Belgium — text by Marina Kazakova Initially, the most striking thing about Jan Vermeire is not his taste for music, nor the warmth of his manner.…
*** The morning sun Couldn’t see wind, Only the sand It moved. The sun couldn’t hear the wind, Only the waves it touched. The sun couldn’t smell wind, Only the…
The town of St Andrews - where StAnza: Scotland's Poetry Festival takes place every March - can easily claim to be the poetry capital of Scotland. Here's why... As well…
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