When I was eight years old I wrote few very first poems. I grew up in poetic surroundings of a historical, post-German castle at the west part of Poland which had imbued my imagination with its mystery and had tailored my personality. I started writing in English, the international language, in 2006 when I won one of third rewards in an international poetry contest organised by The International Library of Poetry based in U.S.A. I discovered Poem Hunter in November 2006 when poets(dot) com, the International Library of Poetry website (where I existed under 'aleks75') , was about to close down. I started sharing my writes under the following pseudonyms: a) previous account (2006-2011) : 'olablue', 'Mars', 'Spring is here...', 'I love my soldier...', and 'quercus...' (I have re-posted some poems from quercus... collection under current profile name) . b) 'Audrey Heart' (2008) , which had been created in order to hide my identity; I lost the access to this account when my e-mail had been compromised in 2008. c) 'leprous', my genuine name, Aleksandra Szymanska (2012 - present) . Please forgive me the foot in my mouth: since summer 2008 my identity has been compromised - I've been having a huge problem with an entourage who have been trying to steal and exploit my intellectual property. For more information and recently written poems, please visit: a) my website: myidentitydimension(dot) com (PC/laptop only, no social media, please) b) Twitter: (at) pola_drus (for security reasons I can not connect my Twitter account to Poem Hunter) . Please do not break into my account and attach your pictures to my profile on this website; please do not edit anything, leaving deliberate mistakes... This account is the way I look, walk, think, frown, laugh. This account is my age, my face features, my finger prints...my hands and feet... I am the 'alien'. Please do not share my poems on www(dot) worldofpoets(dot) com or any other website...
Reduta Ordona (opowiadanie ajutanta, fragment) ...
Nam strzelać nie kazano - wstąpiłem na działo
I spojrzałem na pole dwieście armat grzmiało
...
I live in a house made of few cards,
no weather will ever surprise me...
If wind blows again, it'll rob me of heart;
rain will wash my brain... Who'll recognize me?
...
‘Auntie, I love this story, but know you can't read it to me,
because there's something wrong, I'm upset by a bee...'
‘Sweetheart, I feel it too - the bee buzzes all day.
I know you suffer more than I do; I promise I'll find a way...
...
Is life just a river meandering through time
on rough or smooth waves’ sinuous symphony?
Can it not straighten its ever winding course,
and bend what’s made straight by the hand of irony?
...
Hymn (Smutno mi, Boże...)
Smutno mi, Boże! - Dla mnie na zachodzie
Rozlałeś tęczę blasków promienistą;
...