It was during autumn

It was during autumn

When leaves like to fall

But I was wondering 

How to rise and soar 

Bright colours spread 

It was celebration

Of death.

How can rebirth 

Become possible 

Without tasting the coffin?

Decay, loss and annihilation

Autumn held them all

But hope never left 

My heart

Under the naked trees

I stood and

was hell bent to 

see the flowers 

bloom 

Despair smiled

And hummed 

with the migrating birds.

They promised to return

And I knew 

I would wait.

The whirling leaves 

reminded me of

the sacred circumambulation.

Was it necessary to surrender 

To that force

And go into the wind?

I was restless 

On the brink of

A new knowledge.

Then came stillness 

And I was lost,

Engulfed by a new

Kind of numbness.

I felt like waiting

And filling 

Nothingness’s call.

But I was

And knew

I was the vessel

Preparing 

To hold 

Love.

I dwelled in

Namelessness

But I had become 

The Ocean 

And I could 

Not see the drop

I used to be…

Shah Jehan Ashrafi

MY DAY STARTS ONLY WITH YOU!

If your absence is neither gain nor loss

Don’t know why it bothers me then

My day starts only with your thoughts 

My crimson evening comes from you

Every moment I breath in is called life

Your blue eyes and tender arms in mine

Nothing but you rule in me all the time

Your words are my words you do know

My dreamy nights are but your gifts

Strange all of me has become yours

I want to be loyal till my last breath 

The unbreakable thread has bound us 

Even on separating it doesn’t separate

Even on breaking it does never break.

EVEN IF I DIE!

Days and nights your memories visit

They do torture my anguished heart 

Meeting and separation are norms now

I am all hopeless in your crazy thoughts

For the world the heart is a puppet

I can well imagine how it does feel to be

Please don’t look at me so intensely 

Promise me if I die you won’t forget me 

You always reside in the corner of my eyes

Yet you exist somewhere far away from me

You are so close to my heart I believe!!

 MY HOPELESS HEART!

My heart full of love is incurable 

It’s hard to explain its passions

With its hobby to live and die

My hopeless heart is all thirsty 

Of poison all the while; walking

On embers is its hoary practice 

Still tempted to wounds and pains

Causing sorrow and loneliness 

Splendour of love and disgrace 

Am never ever sure of its mood

My passionate heart is incurable.

 SHE WAS LOST IN MY THOUGHTS!

Even that evening was unusual 

So close she was as she is now

Her evocative eyes were enticing 

A red rose was betraying my self

In the myriad mirth blushingly

She was busy humming my name

To me she was smiling gracefully 

Her eyes concealed all the desires

Behind her was a blooming smile

Lost in my thoughts in toto then

I think she ‘ll come to me one day.

©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai

#India

Ashurali Legacy Academy – A solid step towards the future

Ashurali Legacy Academy is a modern educational center that began its operations on February 19, 2025. This educational center was established to provide quality education to the younger generation and help them master foreign languages.

The Academy is named after the late Ashurali Alijonov. This name was chosen not only to honor the memory of the man, but also as a symbol of passing on knowledge, education, and noble values ​​to future generations.

Ashurali Legacy Academy specializes in teaching English and Russian. Classes are conducted using modern methodologies, with special emphasis on developing students’ listening, speaking, reading, and writing skills.

The training center is located in the Andijan district, Andijan region, Nayman MFY, Republic of Uzbekistan. This facility provides local youth with the opportunity to receive quality language education on their territory. �

Golden Pages +1

The main goal of the academy is to unleash the potential of each student, equip them with modern knowledge and skills, and create a solid foundation for their future education and professional career.

Ashurali Legacy Academy is not just a training center, but a place that leads to knowledge, aspiration and success. This institution aims to perpetuate the bright memory of Ashurali Alijonov, while serving the future generation in achieving great goals.

Priamo della Quercia’s Circle of the Falsifiers 

The figures are all nude;

their pale, gaunt bodies

with prominent bones and stretched skin

reflect the decay of their spirits.

A lie is a virulent disease:

To falsely claim madness,

or to lie that one is gay,

becomes a contagion of deceit.

The falsehood unfurls,

infecting every soul it touches.

There they lie, stark and stripped,

depicted in the distinctive style

of medieval art.

The deceit of Donny Sabogao, Anameda, 

and their allies slowly spreads,

a sickening sickness

that stalks and swallows

the very souls who spawned it.

About the poet 

Fhen M. is a multi-awarded Waray poet. He placed 2nd in the 1st Chito Roño Literary Awards for Waray poetry, and has multiple daily wins in the DYVL Siday Contest, a radio-based poetry competition. His work has appeared in Horseshoe Spring 2024 [“Bamboo House”] and Horseshoe Fall 2025 [“Homing”], with “Shadow Puppet” accepted by Straylight Literary Magazine. “Bookcase in the House of My Ancestors” and “Spending the Night on Planet Mars” are featured in Well Read Magazine: Best of 2024, Vol. 1.

Аrms outstretched,

she with the branches merged,

and two avligs alighted, weaving their song with the wind.

And the sun caresses her roots,

as the rainbow shines

her leaf hair grew…

And God’s seeds were sown in the earth…

Woman

In every yard

it has sprouted

the tree of life

and the roots draw vitality from the chernozem of the universe…

And every branch

touches

ethnic strings,

and in the leaf

sometimes inserted

caterpillars and worms,

in hidden scenes…

Caterpillars may be butterflies,

to fly one day with one’s dreams.

But the worms rot the emerald,

doubts and pain harbored…

The tree of life is multifaceted

like the Great Wall of China.

The destinies of each race are intertwined,

The tree is actually a Woman.

Moods and policies change,

The tree is forever bearing seed.

The shoots of God in the eyes are looked around.

The tree is forever.

And if in my race the Tree of Life should die,

it doesn’t mean darkness…

We have woven our most precious seed, we have reinvented

and yourself in the closest units…

And we become one Tree in the forest,

illuminated by heavenly light.

This is the meaning of the circle.

The Tree of Life is a Woman.

>——– 

A woman

Аrms outstretched,

she with the branches merged,

and two avligs alighted, weaving their song with the wind.

And the sun caresses her roots,

as the rainbow shines

her leaf hair grew…

And God’s seeds were sown in the earth…

Woman

In every yard

it has sprouted

the tree of life

and the roots draw vitality from the chernozem of the universe…

And every branch 

touches 

ethnic strings, 

and in the leaf

sometimes inserted

caterpillars and worms, 

in hidden scenes…

Caterpillars may be butterflies,

to fly one day with one’s dreams.

But the worms rot the emerald,

doubts and pain harbored…

The tree of life is multifaceted

like the Great Wall of China.

The destinies of each race are intertwined,

The tree is actually a Woman.

Moods and policies change,

The tree is forever bearing seed.

The shoots of God in the eyes are looked around.

The tree is forever.

And if in my race the Tree of Life should die,

it doesn’t mean darkness…

We have woven our most precious seed, we have reinvented

and yourself in the closest units…

And we become one Tree in the forest,

illuminated by heavenly light.

This is the meaning of the circle.

The Tree of Life is a Woman.

Dessy Tsvetkova

Dancing Peacocks

Dancing peacocks

colour in disarray

disheveled feathers

stare at the eye

I want to venture

into this electrifying dance

and it’s rapturous languor

won’t you tell me the secret

of this earthly dance 

your ruffled feathers?

dancing peacocks 

I want to fade into oblivion 

like your dance 

and the way you enliven

the music in and around

dancing peacocks

dance the way you want

I can’t build skyscrapers around you

only your body shall tell

how you dance in languorous ways

to

kill 

my 

stupefaction

And in these hills the peacocks dance

And in these hills the peacocks prance

All in the midst of oblivion

The peacocks the peacocks 

Cover mists in my eyes

Ananya S Guha

Memories

by Mahesh Paudyal

I never knew

Memories could be so torturous!

They come

Ripping through the curtains of cold, desolate nights

Squeeze in, right up to the heart

Shake me up time and again

Show a ghastly carmagnole of wounds

And still say,

“The night is yet to pass.”

Paudyal is a Nepali poet who writes in Nepali and English. Sunya Praharko Sakshi and Notes of Silent Times are his published works of poetry. He teaches at the Central Department of English, Tribhuvan University. He is also a noted critic and translator.