The awakening 

when you live asleep 
in the life
all situations
they become dreams
you also live
many nightmares 
Where to learn from what happened,
recognize what has hurt 
forgive those who hurt me 
forgive me for those I have hurt 
accept what is apprehended
It's what you have to understand 
This awakening is not for everyone
because once I wake up
the mission is to transcend.

Mirta Liliana Ramírez has been a poet and writer since she was 12 years old. She has been a Cultural Manager for more than 35 years. Creator and Director of the Groups of Writers and Artists: Together for the Letters, Artescritores, MultiArt, JPL world youth, Together for the letters Uzbekistan 1 and 2. She firmly defends that culture is the key to unite all the countries of the world. She works only with his own, free and integrating projects at a world cultural level. She has created the Cultural Movement with Rastrillaje Cultural and Forming the New Cultural Belts at the local level and also from Argentina to the world.

NOT VALID

With a brush paint each day, a twilight 
Insisting on yellow auroras. not worth 
Retain deep images at mature age
Because the time I came after is cruel. 
not worth 
Falling on steady declines, 
desecrated the Altar of my beliefs to consolidate egos. 
not worth 
Sharpen the bow and shoot wounding arrows, 
Knowing that it is unfair. 
not worth 
Take off the scales when the heart screams and nobody listens 
Voucher 
This bunch of verses that feels empty when a dream ends. 
not worth 
The useless word about the dead miracle 
That can never be reborn under foundations of 

mistrust...


GRACIELA NOEMI VILLAVERDE Poet writer from Concepción del Uruguay Entre Ríos Argentina, based in Buenos Aires Licentiate in letters author of 7 books genre poetry. She has been awarded several times worldwide. She works as the World Manager of Educational and Social Relations of the Hispanomundial Union of Writers UHE and World Honorary President of the same institution. Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers. MEMBER OF THE HONORARY CABINET EXECUTIVE OF THE COMMISSION FOR PEACE, JUSTICE AND STRONG INSTITUTIONS OF SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINE CHAPTER OF UNACCC UNITED NATIONS UNIT FOR CLIMATE CHANGE CENTRAL, SOUTH AMERICA, MEXICO AND THE CARIBBEAN, IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION .

Rain 

Rain means rhythmic joy
Rain means creation
Rain means soft wind-cold weather
Rain, you blow with green, live, fresh recreation
Rain, you are so sweet.

18 July, 2023

Monira Mahbub is a student of grade 6 in Nawabganj Government Girls' High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

Welcome home teacher! 

Welcome home teacher! 
You showed me the way 
Always hold my hand, 
The science you taught 

Welcome home teacher! 
You are always new 
We will keep your honor up, 
Thin pencil eyebrow, 
Welcome home teacher! 

Asking how you are 
Seeing your student 
I will wait and laugh 
Welcome home teacher!

I was surprised that you came 
Your face is like a crescent,
You have so many words, 
Welcome home teacher! 

We get one and four 
We are still young 
Mother of us all, 
Welcome home teacher!

Tanvir Islam is a student of grade 9 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

The Farmers of Bangladesh

In Bangladesh's fields, farmers toil,
Planting seeds, working the soil. 
Day by day, under the sun's ray,
Growing food along the way. 
With weathered hands and hearts so true, 
They make the land come alive and new. 
Harvesting dreams from dawn to dusk, 
In their hard work, they put their trust.

Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

Energy

Energy, the name of my friend
An excellent room to live in the soul
How exciting! I live and die
The taste of the fruit I enjoy every morning
Or like the rose I frequently run and lost in fragrance
By kissing and hugging connected in the magic bond
Always infatuated by  
No more suiting than this mystic drug.

Chapainawabganj,  Bangladesh
27 July, 2023


 
Sheikh Russel in Memory

It was 15 August night, 1975
Darkness and panic seized around
Here and there blood was rolling on  
Stained on the wall and floor
In the 32 Number House at Dhanmodi
10-year-old Russel cried out in fear
"Take me to my mother"
Russel sobbed on
"We are taking you to your mother"
The assassins fired him bullets soon
The little boy, the innocent cry
The lovely flower face fell down to death
It was raining then
Today the rain pours in every Bangalees' heart
The sound of bullet still rebounds ----------
The people of Bangladesh stand up with a vow
"Amar Sonar Bangla, Ami Tomai Valobasi"
I love you through all.

Chapainawabganj,  Bangladesh
12 August, 2023

Across The Rift

We constantly try to go across the rift
If only we get accepted by the hand
Our land is green but still we leave
Moving over to find greener pasture

If there were no airplanes
Some would go across on bare feet
To a place the mind paints as good
Risking the quotidian lives in a desert.


Sabrid Jahan Mahin is a student of grade 9 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.