okay ... denk mal an kinderkrippe, kita & hort: bawü kriegt nichts geschissen – alles teuer, zudem oft auch noch betrieben von sos kinderfick aka der kirche

gönne dir 1 blick nach meck-pomm: kinderkrippe, kindergarten & hort sind dort gratis > hinweis: das war nicht das werk der grünen, die dieser tage immer mehr machen auf gebräunt

thank you!

from the article:

Survivors

We are alive this morning And are still here We cried a lot All night For those who wept and those who were killed But we are certain that hope is harder than despair We are alive Our sadness cannot be seen in the mirror Our names have lost two syllables And the souls of those who dreamt they were among us Three nights ago Are standing there waiting for us At the edge of the wind By the mountain top This is our thousandth night after a thousand After it will come a thousand and one nights The garden flew to the rooftop and the rooftop flew onto the neighbourhood's playground And the neighbourhood and the playground spread their ashes to ashes The envoys passed by and asked the killed and the killer Is it doomsday? Has the wolf made peace with the lamb at last? The sun is passing The moon is late The survival paths are filled with rubble and the mud of shame We will emerge fewer from every war We will emerge fewer from every peace From every freedom, prison, school From every dream Every road leads to us Every road leads to them And every winter and wheat field and plane We are alive this morning And are still here We cried a lot All night For those who wept and those who were killed But we are certain that hope is harder than despair And every time a candle fades We light up

from the article:

Not Just Passing

Yesterday, a star said

to the little light in my heart,

We are not just transients

passing.

Do not die. Beneath this glow

some wanderers go on

walking.

You were first created out of love,

so carry nothing but love

to those who are trembling.

One day, all gardens sprouted

from our names, from what remained

of hearts yearning.

And since it came of age, this ancient language

has taught us how to heal others

with our longing,

how to be a heavenly scent

to relax their tightening lungs: a welcome sigh,

a gasp of oxygen.

Softly, we pass over wounds,

like purposeful gauze, a hint of relief,

an aspirin.

O little light in me, don’t die,

even if all the galaxies of the world

close in.

O little light in me, say:

Enter my heart in peace.

All of you, come in!

i salute you!

just tried to view one of your recent posts from microfedi via sharkey - impossible > otoh, viewing threads from fedia.io posted to lemmy which don't appear at lemmy instances seems to be possible when i use sharkey (both link and thread type)

from the article:

An Istanbul court on Sept. 18 held the first hearing of author Yavuz Ekinci on "terrorism propaganda" charges for his novel Dreams Divided (Rüyası Bölünenler) published in 2014.

The trial began with the attendance of many authors and civil society representatives.

In his defense, Ekinci rejected all charges and drew attention to the conditions leading to the banning of his book.

"Dreams Divided is the story of my home, my people, my village, my country. It is the story of those who wait endlessly by the window, in front of the TV, for news of their sons, daughters, or fathers. Whether you call them Saturday Mothers or Diyarbakır Families, Dreams Divided tells the story of this land,” he explained.

Ekinci continued, “What troubles me the most in this case, and what I’ve tried to understand since I first heard about it, is the mindset of the person who reported my novel to the Presidential communication system CİMER on the night of the second day of the massive Feb. 6 earthquake.”

“Amidst this horror, on the night of Feb. 7, someone took the time to report my novel to CİMER, accusing me of terror propaganda. While I felt ashamed even to sit, eat, or talk during those days, someone reported my book, thinking they were being patriotic,” the author said.

Ekinci held that his novel was a work of fiction. “The fact that the fictional world I created seems real to the court speaks to the power of my literature and the court’s approach to fiction. Suing a fictional universe is abstract. Judging, banning, and seizing it in today’s courts is political. To judge an artist based on characters and their words is an insult to art,” he contended.

The court decided to inquire with the Istanbul Security Branch Directorate about the publication date of Ekinci’s Dreams Divided and referred the case to the prosecution for an opinion on the merits. The trial was adjourned to Dec. 9.

Following the hearing, Ekinci made a statement in front of the courthouse. “This is not just a case against me, but a warning to all authors. No one can tell a writer what to write or how to write. We want literature to be discussed through new styles, not lawsuits,” he said.

What happened?

Following a complaint to CİMER on Feb. 7, 2023, one day after the Feb. 6 earthquakes, an investigation was launched into Yavuz Ekinci’s novel Dreams Divided, published by Doğan Kitap in 2014.

On March 14, 2023, Istanbul’s 7th Criminal Court of Peace issued a decision to seize the books. Following this, the Istanbul Chief Public Prosecutor’s Office also initiated an investigation.

(English version by Ayşenaz Toptaş)

seems to be working again :)

see https://fedia.io/m/[email protected]/t/1277764/Campagnolo-Super-Record-WR-review-Testing-the-world-s-most-expensive

no favorites - there are just so many amazing masters of poetry > i like to discover, and if there's some humor in it, the better :)

there had been many other options than gigantism, and if the capital reaaaaaaally had to be moved, why not to lampung (not far away from jakarta, no shortage of water supplies, lower risks of floods etc)? instead, "nusantara" is a typical croonie program, with orang koruptor filling their pockets, and leaving damage to the rest, driving away indigenous population etc

federation issues plague mbin to a point that surpasses kbin, time and again ... federation between kbin and friendica had always been troublefree ...

from the article:

If He Were Not a Star

ولو لَمْ يكن نجماً لما كانَ باظري وقد غبتُ عنهُ مُظلماً بعد نورِهِ سـلامٌ على تلك المحاسنِ من شَجٍ تناءت بنعماه وطيبِ سرورِهِ

If he were not a star I’d be unaware, now he’s gone, that I’m here floating in the black.

Do we wish peace upon the lights who leave us, longing for the warmth of illumination?

Beggar

سار شعري لك عنّى زائراَ فأَعرْ سَمْعَ المعالى شِنْفَهُ وكذاك الروضُ إذْ لم يَسْتطعْ زَورةً أَرْسَلَ عنه عَرْفَهُ

I sent my poem to visit you, a beggar before majesty— like scents affected from a garden: Reaching, yet touchless.

Jamil & Buthaina

أزوركَ أم تزورُ فإنَّ قلبي إلى ما تشتهي أبداً يميلُ فثَغري موردٌ عذبٌ زلالٌ وفَرْعُ ذُؤَابتي ظِلٌ ظَليلُ وقد أَمَّلتُ أن تظما وتَضْحَى إذا وافى إليك بيَ المقِيلُ فَعَجل بالجوابِ فما جميلٌ أنَاتُك عن بُثينةَ يا جميلُ

Come for me or shall I come to you for my inclination curls toward whatever you prefer

So let me be the recess to restore you and my embrace be the branches that melt you into shadow

I wish only that my sacrifice stirs in you a sough satisfying enough to stifle any slander

Now give me a lovely mouthed reply so I may elude being the latest adulterous iteration of Buthaina beholden to her Jamil

Again

ثنائي على تلكَ الثّنايا لأنّني أقول على علم وأنطق عن خُبْرِ وأُنصفها لا أكذبُ الله إنّني رشفتُ بها ريقاً أرقَّ مِنَ الخمرِ

You come to come again. I know you know these folds.

Tell me true, tell me something. I love sipping your words, thinner than wine.

Undeserving

سـلامٌ يفتحُ في زهرةِ ال كمامَ ويُنْطِقُ وُرقَ الغصونْ على بازح قد ثَوَى في الحَشا وإن كان تحرم منهُ الجفونْ فـلا تحسبوا البُعدَ يُنسيكمُ فذلكَ والله ما لا يَكونْ

your peace opens me to phosphor, to unmuzzle as yet unpronounced blooms even in eyelids deprived of vision or the dispossessed sheltering in the soil forget distance, my ardor’s as undiminishing as God’s to we, the undeserving

Translator’s Note:

Ḥafṣa bint al-Ḥājj ar-Rukūniyya was born around the year 530 AH (1135 CE) to a wealthy family in the city of Granada, which underwent substantive sociopolitical changes during her lifetime after the Almohad invasion that occurred when she was still a child. She famously initiated an affair with Abū Ja’far, a court poet also serving as secretary to the Almohad governor who unfortunately also fell in love with Ḥafṣa. According to legend, court politics and jealousies led Abū Ja’far to side with a rebellion that ended with his capture and execution. Before his death, he often sent Ḥafṣa customary love poems, to which she responded in varied tones (sometimes coy, sometimes passionate, sometimes cerebral), showcasing her famed range as a poet. She spent her last years, after leaving her homeland, in Marrakesh where she tutored young noblewomen. Although only around 60 lines of her poetry have survived to the present, Ḥafṣa (along with Wallāda bint al-Mustakfī and Nuzhawn bint al-Qilāʿī al-Ghirnātiyya) has long been acclaimed as one of the three greatest of women poets in the Andalusian tradition. Ḥafṣa’s remarkably enigmatic style not only has drawn scores of readers to her work but also has allowed for vastly different translating interpretations of her work over the centuries.

Translator Will Pewitt teaches global literature at the University of North Florida and publishes in a variety of genres, from poetry and fiction to history and philosophy. More of his work can be found at WPewitt.com.

thank you!

from the article:

"Note: this poem has no single reading order. It consists of twelve clauses that can be combined in different ways to form various readings. Across the top are the phrases “Thanks to recent military gains” and “Afghan women and girls.” Across the center are “Mrs. Laura Bush,” “lands at Bagram Air Base,” and “looted by the Taliban.” Four phrases are arranged in a diamond shape around “lands at Bagram Air Base.” They are: “plants trees in Kabul,” “can’t go to public parks,” “hands kaleidoscopes,” and “can’t fly kites in the sky.” The bottom line has the phrases “fights for the rights of,” “Afghan children,” and “after twenty years of war.” The diamond shape in the middle and the rearrangeable text evoke the titular kaleidoscope."

"Some text taken from a Radio Address by Laura Bush on November 17, 2001 and from the White House archives of March 2005 about Laura Bush’s visit to Kabul, where she passed out red, white and blue kaleidoscopes."

no, you are not banned :)

modlog can confirm ;)

from the article:

Little-Little Man

Little-little man, little-little man: set free your canary, for she wants to fly… For I am she, little-little man: let me leap.

I’ve been in your cage, little-little man, little-little man, who gives me a cage. I say little because you have neither understood me, nor will you ever understand.

I don’t understand you either, but in the meantime open for me this cage, I want to escape; little-little man, I loved you half a wing’s worth; don’t ask me for more.

and let me say this: daisy rockwell is an award-winning translator, mastering different genres and writing styles with ease > your downvoting pattern is ultimately toxic, and it testifies to your ignorance more than to the respective post you dared to downvote without any further reading

downvoters should be made visible again on mbin: trolls should not be allowed to interfere behind the curtain of invisibility > anyway, bs like this had never happened on kbin.social's poetry magazine ...

from the article:

Defeated

We can give up.

It matters not to surrender in silence, if the drums of vengeance echo from afar.

Sign of the Times

Nouns, pronouns, articles… prefixes of the quotidian, suffixes of the allowed. Verbs to regulate conduct and adjectives to qualify injustice.

Nouns, pronouns, articles… exact forms, easy to invert.

The letter, occasionally freed, rebels. And adds, but, also divides.

The word is cursed. It is the sign of the times.

any guess why visibility on lemmy has been heavily affected, whereas from microfedi things looked normal?