Poem: The Beggar

​The beggar In the grey fogs of the cities - Like mushrooms in the moist, There grow beggars in the corners, "Just a penny, sir!" - voiced. You may find them in any genre; Old men next to a jar, Sad blokes without roof nor goods, Lads playing a guitar. All they want is only … Continue reading Poem: The Beggar


Poem: Bhenyameen

My name: There are very few things in my life more mispronounced than my name. My name should be the Hungarian "Benjámin" /benyaamin/, given by my mother since that time this name had got a big hype. The only issue occurring that time is that my mother couldn't speak fluent French or Arabic when I … Continue reading Poem: Bhenyameen