SHORT BIO:
TAGHRID BOU MERHI
Taghrid Bou Merhi, a Lebanese multilingual poet, writer, journalist and translator living in Brasil. She has authored 21books, a translator of 24 books to date, a presenter of 25 books. Taghrid is a children's story writer who also writes articles (56 articles), critical studies, and research. Her writings are part of several national and international magazines, newspapers, journals and anthologies( more than 60 Arabic books and more than 75 anthology internacional). Her poems have been translated into 47 languages, studied by literary critics, and featured on international radio stations.. She speaks six languages ( Arabic English Spanish Italian French And Portuguese ). She is an active member of various literary and creative platforms and editor of 10 Magazine Arabic. She is an advisory member among ten internacional poetry consultants chosen by
Chinese media giant CCTV. She is advisor to the International Union of Arab Intellectuals, in the Media Authority for Translation Affairs and advisor to the countries Al-Sham literary platform for literary translation. Ambassador of the World Organization for Creativity for Peace in London. She has received numerous international awards, international Peace Medal Award, Peace Award, honorary certificate, creativity, ....
FINGERS OF A POEM!
Let the poem that does not embody the role of a poet depart!
Let it mimic assemblies of speech, and never cease to weep!
I tried to eat its tattered fingers, fearing that the paper could not bear the tears of its letters...
Before wings sprout for imitation,
I tried to see through its crippled imagination, and look out from the balcony of its incomplete questions.
The intensity of its screams astonished me, and I fell into the pool of metaphor, like an arrogant reader who swallows magic and pride, reciting incantations...
The images crafted in its own way would have been exquisite if not for the masks worn by the counterfeiters...
The imagination crowded with hunger, metaphysically blurred details, betrayed by black ink and crooked tears...
A silly melodrama, its biting letters falling one after another, soothing its night with the fingers of silence to be engulfed in a deep sleep.
©® TAGHRID BOU MERHI - LEBANON - BRAZIL
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ALONE IN ITS ENTIRETY!
There was... standing at that corner of solitude, like a mute instrument whose head fell from the intensity of silence.
As drowsiness overwhelmed it, its senses left the present, the strange waves in its body silenced, its blood swelled with the corpuscles of silence and stillness, and darkness spread everywhere.
Here it is, in its entirety, in complete rooted silence, mingling with a deep, delicious numbness, delicious to the point of enjoyment and falling from a high wall.
Like an ant, it took hold of its extremities, its skin, and even its mind,
as if walking through an endless maze, its mind's eye awakening,
passing guards of its gates,
treading on every molecule of its essence, on the wavering wall of its solitude,
on the roof of its numb silence,
in the curved courtyards in that immaculate corner there...
©® TAGHRID BOU MERHI - LEBANON - BRAZIL
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A SLEEPY PUPIL!
Alone in the midnight, I awaken to the light of my soul,
Opening my eyes, clinging to the last shreds of feelings residing in dreams...
I inspect them with my tender fingers to grasp moments of consciousness.
If only he slowed down a little, or granted me a moment longer to grasp him as I desire,
I would button up the coat of dreams for him, and cradle my heart for him in the depths before...
Sometimes, I feel a sense of attachment to mental images of a beautiful dream.
In vain, I emerge from foggy gaps and manage to gather the details.
If only I woke up to a scream to shake off the dust of sleep...
Midnight flows into my veins and embraces me tightly, dreams recede and take with them the touches of illusion.
The hands of time weave a shiver into the body, consuming the remnants of light fingers and all the shadows that were cast, planting darkness seeds on the wind's carpet. Sometimes, my hearing becomes a little acute, and the soul's horses wander through the folds of distances, mingling with the moon.
A scream defies me, wiping away what remains of my sleepy pupil, distracting me from counting the stars, forgetting my shirt over the space canopy, drifting among the clouds.
I am enchanted by the embellishment of that great dome with the light grains, gathering the kisses of magic in the starlight, and embracing the bosom of the night whenever midnight folds the pages of estrangement.
I vanish in the hours of wakefulness and awaken in the slumber of dreams.
The harbors of days forsake me, and my sails sway on the ships of fate.
My destiny fades away,
Disappears behind dimensions of sight
Erases the crevices of darkness and my details and weaknesses.
©® TAGHRID BOU MERHI - LEBANON - BRAZIL
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PASSION!
Passion, a word that holds within it the secret of existence,
It is the first threshold of the temple of love, the elixir and salt of life...
"You may have the insight of Buddha"
For every moment of life we live with passion,
like a brushstroke with which we color every scene of our lives like a movie.
The absence of passion is void and annihilation,
and the spirit of the heart will only be revived by the emergence of passion.
What comes from the heart penetrates the hearts,
and what comes from the tongue does not go beyond the ears.
A depicted harmony, mastering the art of blending visual passion with the touch of laughter and tears
Like the parasites of life moving between drama and comedy,
with ghostly scenes in their depths crushing the camera's lenses with a philosophical reflection of the image folded on the other half...
No one...
No one masters the weaving of the idea with their fingers.
And sometimes, there are many things that can only be seen from the angle of passion...
Perhaps we succeed or fail, I do not know...?
Where those who do not embrace love slowly wither away...!
©® TAGHRID BOU MERHI -LEBANON- BRAZIL
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