Hier können wir unsere eigenen literarischen Werke publizieren./ Here we can publish our own pieces.
Dagmar Wiegand - 07.02.2019 @ 17:30
Here's my poem. I hope you enjoy it. :)
Nazli Yüksek - 24.03.2019 @ 11:06
Sweet Surprise
by Nazli Yüksek, BG-BRG Kufstein/Austria
As I open my eyes
The sun shines into my room
The winter in disguise,
Wild flowers start to bloom
The snow dies, the cold dies, the quiet dies,
A bird flies, the sun shines, a sweet surprise
The sky as blue as it can be
At the horizon, touching the sea
Sweet honey supplied by the bee
Flying all above the tree
Can you feel it’s here again?
A season, so welcoming warm
The spring has come again
Finally, the world’s so calm.
https://www.hellorf.com/video/search?category=12&resolution=high_definition&searchid=s201707250
Hi!
I really liked your poem. To me this talkes about rebirth and new beginnings which we all experience at times. I can really relate to the topic and the wording is really beautiful. I especially liked the 2nd paragraph and the repetition you used in it. The repeating of words enhance the messsage amazingly. Good job!
Sofia Olsson - 05.06.2019 @ 09:15
Hier sind unsere Gedichte zum Thema Sommer.
Viel Spass beim Lesen!
Sonnenschein
Die Sonne scheint
Und ich esse ein Eis
Die Sonne scheint
Und ich bade
Die Sonne scheint
Und ich treffe meine Freunde
/ Daniar
Sommerwünsche
Was macht ihr im Sommer?
Ein Gefühl
Ein Gefühl von einer warmen Sommerbrise
in meinem Haar
Ein Geschmack
Ein Geschmack von süssen Erdbeeren
und kaltem Eis auf meiner Zunge
Und ein Wunsch
Ein Wunsch von hellen Nächten
Ein Wunsch von Freiheit. Keine Schule.
Nur du und ich
Mein Wunsch vom Sommer
/Sofia
Pizzasommer
Ich hoffe.
Dass du mit mir Pizza essen willst.
So machen wir immer.
Ich hoffe.
Dass du mit mir im Meer baden willst.
So machen wir immer.
Ich hoffe.
Dass du mit mir Eis kaufen gehst.
So machen wir immer.
/Alma G.
Sophia Schwyter - 05.06.2019 @ 10:32
So, here`s a small story I`m not sure I`ll ever finish, but for the time being this is all I have. Have fun.
The one who`s alive
Mirjam Kronthaler, BG – BRG Kufstein/Austria
The smell of flowers and sun fills the air, together with the sound of laughter and the happy feeling of a warm summer evening. I watch the silhouettes of my sister and my mother against the orange of the sky and listen to my father talking to them. I take a step towards them, open my mouth to call out to them. But I realize that I can`t, I try to reach out to them, I try to lift my arms, to take another step towards them. But my body doesn`t move. I try turning my head, look down to see what`s wrong. That`s when I hear it. It starts as a slight buzz, so light I can barely hear it but with every passing second the sound gains in volume, and I recognize it. Dread starts to fill me and bile rises in my throat. I try to raise my voice again, to cry out, to warn them, already knowing that it`s too late. I see my sister look up, see her open her mouth to speak, to ask me what`s wrong. I can already see them looming behind her, a dark cloud over her and my parents` head, and I finally am able to move, to run and scream, to warn them. Yet I can`t help them as the deafeningly droning cloud falls over them, can only watch as their smiling faces turn into masks of horror before the swarm of tiny black dots also reaches me. The last thing I can see before my world turns into one of excruciating pain and darkness is the distorted skull of my father, burnt beyond recognition yet his eyes still staring at me, filled with accusation.
I wake up with a start, my heart beating in my throat, taking in shallow, panicked breaths. For a moment I`m still caught up in my dream, confused why there`s nothing but blackness around me. Then my sense of reality kicks in and reminds me that I`m not asleep anymore and that the darkness is normal. I feel around for my stick and my bag, finding both not too far from my bed that is really lust a pile of old leafes bundled together into a plastic bag as a pillow and a threadbare old jacket as a blanket. I stow the pillow in a hole in the far corner of what I`d like to call my cave and stuff the blanket into my bag before struggling to my feet and trying not to fall over immediately without my stick. I slowly make my way to where I know the entrance of the cave to be and curse my leg for it`s stiffnes. As I stick my head outside I am hit by a wave of heat and my nose is assaulted by the stench of rot, as per usual. I test the ground before me with my stick, being wary of potholes and remnants of whatever might be roaming the dead streets at night. By now I pretty much know my way around at least most of the craters in the pavement, but I`d rather be careful. After making sure nothing`s in my path I take a few careful steps into the scorching heat of outside, frowning about the fact that I lost my hat and am now exposed to the hellishly burning sunrays. I bedamn the fact that I have to go out to gather supplies, that I have to leave my cool cavern for the sake of not starving to death and that I know that I won`t be able to stay here much longer, with almost all of the houses around me being absolutely plundered already. I carefully tread around the potholes and piles of garbage, heading towards the last house within vicinity of two miles that has any food left in it.
I stand in front of empty cupboards. If I could see I would stare at them but alas I can only stand there and let my jaw drop to the floor. How? Why? The last time I checked, there was at least a whole shelf of canned food left, and there had also been some water bottles left in the cellar. My minds racing, jumping between possibilities. Dogs? Barely any left, also they don`t know how to open cans. Also, I would have smelt them as soon as I was through the door. Plunderers? Unlikely, I wouldn`t have settled in the area if there were any of those around. That leaves me with only one possibility. I gulp. People. Normal people. Normal, harmless, desperate people. People that will try and approach me, people that will talk to me, that will seem absolutely helpless. People that will expect me to aid them. People that won`t hesitate to stab me in the back when they realize that I won`t be of any help to them. They are worse than dogs or plunderers. They all seem human. Until they don`t.
Mirjam Kronthaler - 11.06.2019 @ 22:42
Von Teil 1.....
Liebste Lesefreunde,
Mir hat euer Gedicht mit dem Koffer sehr gefallen. Ihr könnt auf euch stolz sein, eine super Arbeit habt ihr geleistet in einem Team. Es handelt im Gedicht über sehr viele interessante bzw. aktuelle Angelegenheiten über die Menschheit. Und in der zweiten Ballade handelt es sich um Weihnachten. Es war genauso schön, eure Ode zu lesen. Bestimmt, erweckt sie in vielen die frühere Weihnachtszeit. Eine wunderbare Atmosphäre ist es mit alten Freunden oder mit Familie wieder vereint zu sein. Ist doch wunderbar, nicht wahr? Wir feiern kein Weihnachten, aber in meiner Religion haben wir auch Festtage und ich liebe diese Stimmung, wenn wir alte bekannte Besuchen gehen oder Essen Vorbreiten. Am liebsten mag ich das Zuckerfest, wo wir "Geschenke" bekommen und Ramadan wenn wir zusammen am Tisch essen. Natürlich sind die anderen Gedenktage genauso wichtig für mich und spielen eine wichtige Rolle.
Liebste Grüße, Melike A.
Melike Aksak - 11.07.2019 @ 20:07
Hello Nazli,
Me and Pola find this poem very beautiful, we find it amazing that you can so freely and well use the English language even though it's not your mother tounge. We are also impressed by your use of literary style figures, it makes the poem more spiritual and easy to reflect upon.
Your poem makes us think and look forward to Spring due to the happiness and light it brings. Reading this made us feel more happy and energetic. We think that most of the people that will read this will feel the same way since many prefer Spring over Winter.
Sincerely, Audrey and Pola
Audrey Hollingsworth - 03.10.2019 @ 13:43
Hallo Seraina,
Du hast einen tollen Job darin gemacht, dieses Gedicht zu schreiben. Du bist sehr gut darin, deine Emotionen auszudrücken. Wir können uns auf persönlicher Ebene mit dem Gedicht identifizieren und es leicht verstehen. Die im Gedicht verwendeten Anaphoren machten es rhytmischer und schöner zu lesen.
Wir beide haben dieses Gedicht sehr genossen.
Liebste Grüße, Audrey und Pola
Audrey Hollingsworth - 03.10.2019 @ 13:59