Dear Readers and Authors, On January 15, 2016, the first issue of the Scarlet Leaf Review saw the light of the Internet. Two years later, it's reached 1,673,798 hits. We have had the chance and the joy of reading and publishing authors of all nationalities, ages, genres and ideas. It's been an interesting period and we have grown a lot and of course, learnt a lot. As last year, this year opened our eyes to new genres in the literature world . We have published emerging authors and enjoyed the poems or stories of seasoned ones. Together, we will be able to do much more. We are proud because here, at Scarlet Leaf Review, a slice of literary history is being written, with the help and contribution of so many talented people. We thank you all for helping us in our purpose. We want to thank all of you, both authors and readers - you have made this year, as well as the last year exciting and memorable. We have decided to issue the regular edition on Jan 15 2018 (I am sure you guessed - I made an error, of course) and the Anniversary Edition will start with Jan 16th. Don't forget - every day, up to the end of the month of January, at least one piece (either poem or story) will be posted in the Anniversary Edition. Let's also not forget that Jan 15 is the anniversary of the great poet Mihai Eminescu, the misunderstood genius, whose poems are so compelling that people all over the world started studyingt Romanian just to be able to read his poems in original. We published some of his poems in the first issue of this magazine, however, we will republish one of them - Evening Star - as it is one of his most famous poems. And we have chosen one poem of one of the contemporary and talented poets we have come across. His imagery will have made Mihai Eminescu proud. Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet who has been nominated for 2 Best of the Net and 3 Pushcart Prize Awards for Poetry. His poems have been published world-wide in various publications throughout North and South America, Europe, Asia, Australia and Africa. He has been published in The Burningword Journal, Belle Reve Journal, SETU Magazine, Blue Heron, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Now/Then Manchester Magazine UK, Bewildering Stories, Scarlet Leaf Review, EMBOSS Magazine, and many more. Ken loves thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night, and spending time with his cats Willa, Hemi and Turbo. His book, "The Cellaring", a collection of haunting, paranormal, weird and wonderful poems, has been released and is available through Amazon.com. He is the co-editor of two poetry anthologies, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze and Dandelion in a Vase of Roses also available at Amazon.com. So, first, please, enjoy KEN ALLAN DRONSFIELD's poem: Occupy the Present Whatever forces upon the season, perhaps tis you that are the reason, for the man of shadowed pallor whom limps down the narrow back lane. With help of a burled cane, or such unequivocal refrain within the wispy glow of twilight's dawn I bare silent witness to the spark. As the gauntlet was dropped on the old dirt floor, I clenched it with wrinkled hands in horror and saw the light echo in a brackish dull sky. Blink once for yes; twice for no. thrice to answer within a shallow tear as your ears woefully bleed a silent, muffled step is unheard as a cicada flutters in a stellar haze. Waltz to the symphony of a super nova's sonnet, emblazoned insanity while perched there up on the rim of a disobedient black hole whilst I listlessly grasped the absence, spending a lifetime seeking all who occupy the present. And now, Mihai Eminescu: Mihai Eminescu (Romanian pronunciation: [miˈhaj emiˈnesku] ( listen); born Mihail Eminovici; 15 January 1850 – 15 June 1889) was a Romantic poet, novelist and journalist, often regarded as the most famous and influential Romanian poet. Eminescu was an active member of the Junimea literary society and worked as an editor for the newspaper Timpul ("The Time"), the official newspaper of the Conservative Party (1880–1918).[2] His poetry was first published when he was 16 and he went to Vienna to study when he was 19. The poet's manuscripts, containing 46 volumes and approximately 14,000 pages, were offered by Titu Maiorescu as a gift to the Romanian Academy during the meeting that was held on 25 January 1902.[3] Notable works include Luceafărul (The Vesper/The Evening Star/The Lucifer/The Daystar), Odă în metru antic (Ode in Ancient Meter), and the five Letters (Epistles/Satires). In his poems he frequently used metaphysical, mythological and historical subjects. Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mihai_Eminescu EVENING STAR There was, as in the fairy tales, As ne'er in the time's raid, There was, of famous royal blood A most beautiful maid. She was her parents' only child, Bright like the sun at noon, Like the Virgin midst the saints And among stars the moon. From the deep shadow of the vaults Her step now she directs Toward a window; at its nook Bright Evening-star expects. She looks as in the distant seas He rises, darts his rays And leads the blackish, loaded ships On the wet, moving, ways. To look at him every night Her soul her instincts spur; And as he looks at her for weeks He falls in love with her. And as on her elbows she leans Her temple and her whim She feels in her heart and soul that She falls in love with him. And ev'ry night his stormy flames More stormily renew When in the shadow of the castle She shows to his bright view. * * And to her room with her slow steps He bears his steps and aims Weaving out of his sparkles cold A toil of shaking flames. And when she throws upon her bed Her tired limbs and reposes, He glides his light along her hands And her sweet eyelash closes. And from the mirror on her shape A beam has spread and burns, On her big eyes that beat though closed And on her face that turns. Her smiles view him; the mirror shows Him trembling in the nook For he is plunging in her dream So that their souls may hook. She speaks with him in sleep and sighs While her heart's swelled veins drum: -"O sweet Lord of my fairy nights, Why comest thou not? Come! Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my dwelling and my mind And over my life gleam!" And he listens and trembles and Still more for her love craves And as quick as the lightning he Plunges into the waves. The water in that very spot Moves rolling many rings And out of the unknown, dark, depth A superb young man springs. As on a threshold o'er the sill His hasty steps he leads, Holds in his hand a staff with, at Its top, a crown of reeds! A young Voivode he seems to be With soft and golden hair; A blue shroud binds in a knot on His naked shoulder fair. The shade of his face is of wax And thou canst see throughout - A handsome dead man with live eyes That throw their sparkles out. -"From my sphere hardly I come to Follow thy call and thee, The heaven is my father and My mother is the sea. So that I could come to thy room And look at thee from near With my light reborn from waves my Fate toward thee I steer. O come, my treasure wonderful And thy world leave aside; For I am Evening-star up from And thou wouldst be my bride. In my palace of coral I'll Take thee for evermore And the entire world of the sea Will kneel before thy door. " -"O thou art beautiful as but In dreams an angel shows, The way though thou hast oped for me For me's for ever close. Thy port and mien and speech are strange Life thy gleams don't impart, For I'm alive and thou art dead And thy eyes chill my heart. " * * Days have past since: but Evening-star Comes up againd and stays Just as before, spreading o'er her His clear, translucent rays. In sleep she would remember him And, as before, her whole Wish for the Master of the waves Is clinching now her soul. -"Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my dwelling and my mind And over my life gleam!" He hears: and from the dire despair Of such an woeful weird He dies, and the heavens revolve Where he has disappeared. Soon in the air flames ruddy spread, The world in their grip hold; A superb form the spasms of the Chaotic valleys mold. On his locks of black hair he bears His crown a fierce fire frames; He floats as he really comes Swimming in the sun's flames. His black shroud lets develop out His arms marbly and hale; He pensively and sadly brings His face awfully pale. But his big wonderful eyes' gleam, Chimerically deep, Shows two unsatiated spasms That but into dark peep. -"From my sphere hardly I come to Follow thy voice, thy sight; The bright sun is my father and My mother is the night. O come, my treasure wonderful And thy world leave aside For I am Evening-star from up And thou wouldst be my bride. O come, and upon thy blond hair Crowns of stars I shall crowd, And more that all of them, up there, Thou wild look fair and proud. " -"O thou art beautiful as but In dreams a demon shows, The way though hast oped for me For me's for ever close. The depths of my breast ache from the Desire of thy fierce love My heavy, big eyes also ache When into them thine shove". -"But how wouldst thou that I come down? Know this - for, do I lie? -: I am immortal, while thou art One of those that must die!" -"I hate big words, nor do I know How to begin my plea; And although thy discourse is clear I don't understand thee. But if thou wantest my flamed love And that would not be sham, Come down on this temporal earth, Be mortal as I am!" -"I'd lose my immortality For but one kiss of thine! Well, I will show thee how much too For thy fierce love I pine! Yes, I shall be reborn from sin, Receive another creed: From that endlessness to which I Am tied, I shall be freed!" And out he went, he went, went out, Loving a human fay, He plucked himself off from the sky, Went for many a day. * * Meanwhile, the house-boy, Catalin, Sly, and who often jests When he's filling with wine the cups Of the banqueting guests; A page that carries step by step The trail of the Queen's gown, A wandering bastard, but bold Like no one in the town; His little cheek - a peony That under the sun stews; Watchful, just like a thief, he sneaks In Catalina's views. -"How beautiful she grew" - thinks he - "A flower just to pluck! Now, Catalin, but now it is Thy chance to try thy luck!" And by the way, hurriedly, he Corners that human fay: -"What's with thee, Catalin? Let me Alone and go thy way!" -"No! I want thee to stay away From thoughts that have no fun. I want to see thee only laugh, Give me a kiss, just one!" -"I don't know what it is about And, believe me, retire! But for one Evening-star up from I've kept my strong desire!" -"If thou dost not know I could show Thee all about love's balm! Only, don't give way to thy ire And listen and be calm. So as the hunter throws the net That many birds would harm, When I'll stretch my left arm to thee, Enlace me with thy arm. Under my eyes keep thine and don't Let them move on their wheels And if I lift thee by the waist Thou must lift on thy heels. When I bend down my face, to hold Thine up must be thy strife; So, to each other we could throw Sweet, eager, looks for life. And so that thou have about love A knowledge true and plain, When I stoop to kiss thee, thou must Kiss me too and again. " With much bewilderment her mind The little boy's word fills, And shyly and nicely now she Wills not, and now she wills. And slowly she tells him:- "Since thy Childhood I've known thy wit, And as thou art and glib and small My temper thou wouldst fit. But Evening-star sprung from the calm Of the oblivion, Though, gives horizon limitless To the sea lone and dun. And secretly, I close my eyes For my eyelash tears dim When the waves of the sea go on Travelling toward him. He shines with love unspeakable So that my pains he'd leach, But higher and higher soars, so That his hand I'd ne'er reach. Sadly thrusts from the worlds which from My soul his cold ray bar. . . I shall love him for ever and For ever he'll rove far. Like the unmeasured steppes my days Are deaf and wild, therefore, But my nights spread a holy charm I understand no more!" -"Thou art a child! Let's go! Through new Lands our own fate let's frame! Soon they shall have lost our trace and Forgot even our name! We shall be both wise, glad and whole As my judgement infers And thou wouldst not long for thy kin Nor yearn for Evening-stars!" * * Then Evening-star went out. His wings Grow, into heavens dash, And on his way millenniums Flee in less than a flash. Below, a depth of stars; above, The heaven stars begem, - He seems an endless lightning that Is wandering through them. And from the Chaos' vales he sees How in an immense ring Round him, as in the World's first day, Lights from their sources spring; How, springing, they hem him like an Ocean that swimming nears. . . He flees carried by his desire Until he disappears. For that region is boundless and Searching regards avoids And Time strive vainly there to come To life from the dark voids. 'Tis nought. 'Tis, though, thirst that sips him And which he cannot shun, 'Tis depth unknown, comparable To blind oblivion. -"From that dark, choking, endlessness Into which I am furled, Father, undo me, and for e'er Be praised in the whole world! Ask anything for this new fate For with mine I am through: O hear my prayer, O my Lord, for Thou gives life and death too. Take back my endlessness, the fires That my being devour And in return give me a chance To love but for an hour! I've come from Chaos; I'd return To that my former nest. . . And as I have been brought to life From rest, I crave for rest!" -"Hyperion, that comest from The depths with the world's swarm, Do not ask signs and miracles That have no name nor form. Thou wantest to count among men, Take their resemblance vain; But would now the whole mankind die Men will be born again. But they are building on the wind Ideals void and blind; When human waves run into graves New waves spring from behind. Fate's persecutions, lucky stars, They only are to own; Here we know neither time nor space, Death we have never known. From the eternal yesterday Drinks what to-day will drain And if a sun dies on the sky A sun quickens again. Risen as for ever, death though Follows them like a thorn For all are born only to die And die to be reborn. But thou remainest wheresoe'er Thou wouldst set down or flee. Thou art of the prime form and an Eternal prodigy. Thou wilt now hear the wondrous voice At whose bewitched singing Mounts woody get skipping to skies Into sea Island sinking! Perhaps thou wilt more: show in deeds Thy sense of justice, might, Out of the earth's lumps make an empire And settle on its height! I can give thee millions of vessels And hosts; thou, bear thy breath O'er all the lands, o'er all the oceans: I cannot give thee death. For whom thou wantest then to die? Just go and see what's worth All that is waiting there for thee On that wandering earth!" * * His first dominion on the sky Hyperion restores And like in his first day, his light All o'er again he pours. For it is evening and the night Her duty never waives. Now the moon rises quietly And shaking from the waves, And upon the paths of the groves Her sparkles again drone. . . Under the row of linden-trees Two youths sit all alone. -"O darling, let my blessed ear feel How thy heart's pulses beat, Under the ray of thy eyes clear And unspeakably sweet. With the charms of their cold light pierce My thought's faery glades, Pour an eternal quietness On my passion's dark shades. And there, above, remain to stop Thy woe's violet stream, For thou art my first source of love And also my last dream!" Hyperion beholds how love Their eyes equally charms: Scarcely his arm touches her neck, She takes him in her arms. The silvery blooms spread their smells And their soft cascade strokes The tops of the heads of both youths With long and golden locks. And all bewitched by love, she lifts Her eyes toward the fires Of the witnessing Evening-star And trusts him her desires: -"Descend to me, mild Evening-star Thou canst glide on a beam, Enter my forest and my mind And o'er my good luck gleam!" As he did it once, into woods, On hills, his rays he urges, Guiding throughout so many wilds The gleaming, moving, surges. But he falls not as he did once From his height into swells: -"What matters thee, clod of dust, if 'Tis me or some one else? You live in your sphere's narrowness And luck rules over you - But in my steady world I feel Eternal, cold and true!" ----------------- Poezii Romanian Voice
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Dear readers and authors,
January issue of Scarlet Leaf Review (on line issue) is live. I didn’t think I could do it, honestly Weebly seems to have a problem with our magazine and I can’t understand why if I post something, something else appears!!! As always, if I skipped over some errors – like a big photo, a garbled category, don’t take it personally, just let me know. I’d like to offer a huge thank you to the authors who have contributed to this issue as well as to the authors featured in the past issues. Because of you, the site has already had 1,673,798 hits since January 15, 2016, with 81,630 between December 15, 2017 and January 15, 2018. Thank you again. Don’t forget, if you hover with your mouse over JAN 2018, you will find the drop-down menu, showing poems, short-stories and nonfiction. If you want to read the work of a specific author, click on the author’s name, on the right hand of the page under categories. We announced that we will limit the works featured, however, it didn’t work out that way. This is a big issue, you will see. That is why, if the format didn’t want to cooperate, I left it as it was. By the way, dear authors, PDF does not format well. That is why I ask for word doc. I had to work over an hour on a PDF tonight, and it still needs work. But I also start work at 8 am in the morning so… There will be a second post – it is January 15th, so stay tuned. Have fun! Take your time and read them all! Roxana Nastase Editor in Chief |
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