Author Archives: leilasmtrajkovic

poetry, proza

Douglas Stewart, USA Mourning, Marchons, ~* ~ Commentary by Leila Samarrai

Douglas Stewart, USA
Mourning, Marchons

Arms they hid beneath their cloaks,
Intent beneath facades of peace,
And fixed their paths toward Montrouge,
A concert, and 130 dead Parisians,
a City Mourning, Marchons.

The City of Light knew then its friends,
they
Rallied from the clovered corners of the planet,
The tears of auld allies and former colonies glisten,
Late enemies stood next to Marianne,
hands clasped in
Mourning, Marchons.

Current adversaries promise support,
old friends
Pledge support and, as 70 years ago, is
Paris Burning?
NO!
The City of Light lifts her torch,
Marianne sings,
Her standards of law and justice remain t
he same. Even in Mourning, Marchons!

~* ~ Commentary by Leila Samarrai:

The poem, ‘Mourning Marchons’, has the character of an anthem as it invokes archetypal images of France to condemn terrorism and to celebrate the best aspects of a country dedicated to liberty. The term ‘Marchons’, references ‘Le Marseillaise’, the national anthem of France, and reminds us all to never give up or despair despite great hardship. The poem opens, in the first stanza, reminding us of the human beings who were murdered by terrorists in Paris. The poet brings ‘Marianne’, an allegory of liberty and reason and a portrayal of the Goddess of Liberty, to life, and reminds us of the famous image by Eugene Delačrois, where Freedom leads the people (” La Liberté guidant le peuple”), conjuring up feelings of power, freedom and victory. The poet calls on the ‘/ marching, even in mourning /’, evoking the final victory of freedom and justice over pain and death. This poem reminds us that despite all that has been lost and is being mourned, France will never change: ‘/ her standards of law and justice /’ will prevail.

Frosini, Fabrizio. POETRY AGAINST TERROR (Kindle Locations 2593-2598). Fabrizio Frosini.

 

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proza

Leila Samarrai: Svrha života

https://belegbg.wordpress.com/2016/01/09/leila-samarrai-svrha-zivota/

Jednog dana, Boris K. došao je do zaključka da je uradio sve što je mogao na ovome svetu. Rekao je glupom da je glup, licemeru da je licemer, sebičnom da je sebičan, budali da je budala. Te noći, u snu mu se javilo neobično biće sa pačjim kljunom i perajima i reklo:

„Nisi uradio sve što si mogao, Borise… Nisi se pokrio jorganom od kože banjipa, mitskog bića starih Aboridžina. Kad ustaneš, jorgan će ti biti na dohvat ruke, a nakon toga, srešćeš mudraca koji će ti pomoći da ispuniš svoju životnu svrhu.“

Kad se probudio, Boris K. ustanovi da je umesto ćebetom prekriven jorganom od kože banjipa u koji se umota, drhteći…

Pogledavši se u ogledalo, ustanovi da ima lice psa, da su mu zubi ispali, a kljove iznikle. Okrenuvši se, primeti i to da mu je izrastao konjski rep. Nemajući kud, Boris K. reši da sačeka Mudraca. Umesto njega, došao je komšija Vasa, koji ga je odveo na pečenje.

weird_dreams_by_artbybones

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biography, proza

Who am I?

Who am I?
16
Full name Lejla Samaraj Mehdi (Mehdi Leila Samarrai)
Born on 19 October 1976 (39 yrs.)
Place of birth: Kragujevac, Serbia, Yugoslavia
She studied Spanish language and Hispanic literature. She made her debut in 2002, winning the competition for the first book of the Student Cultural Centre in Kragujevac. In addition to the Serbian language, the less works are published in Hungarian and Spanish. She lives and works in Belgrade.
Greater achievements:
The Darkness Will Understand (collection of poems), Student Cultural Center, Kragujevac. 2002. ISBN 978-86-7398-010-2.
The Dolls (drama play), a library of “Contemporary Serbian drama” electronic edition, Project Rastko, 2009
The Adventures of Boris K. (story collection), “Everest media”, Belgrade. 2013. ISBN 978-86-7756-028-7.
Shorter acts:
She published stories in a journal “The shortest parable”(” Alma”, 2010) and in magazines “Quarter”, “Mons Aureus”, “Rhinoceros” and “Steps”, in printed form
Her prose works, poetry and aphorisms were published in electronic form within the more specialized websites: “Project – the Library of Serbian Culture”, “Balkan Literary Gazette,” “The Creative People Network”, “Belegbg”, “Jovo Nikolic”, “Rhinoceros “,”Zetna”,”Afirmator”,”Helly Cherry”, and others.
Awards and recognitions
– won third place as a representative of Serbia for aphorism “Stars and us” on the Beleg competition
– won three awards on the story competition “3-5-7” as a part of the “Helly Cherry” competition
– “The Darkness Will Understand”, book of poetry, “The Firstborn Edition”, Student Cultural Center, first prize winner
– won three awards in the competition “357 – A story in moment”, Belgrade, 2011.
– won third place for a fantastic aphorism “Stars and us”, 2011 (as a representative of Serbia)
-won third place in the competition of “Beleg” for short fantastic story, 2011.
(source: Wikipedia)
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poezija, proza

Leila Samarrai, Serbia Où vas-tu, Seigneur?

 

A happy game
a first strike
with a ball
in Paris
a first turn
then
turn around
play begins
in Paris

“Où vas-tu, Seigneur?”
The crying stops
the laughter stops
the clocks stop
the dance stops
the ball stops
in midair
breaths are held
the seeds of terror sown
in Paris
“Mais, où étais-tu, Seigneur?”
The jackals and scoundrels
are exposed..
to a fallen mankind
It is the end of the world.
It has begun..

~*~

Commentary by Valsa George Nedumthallil:

As a bolt from the blue, when terrorists abruptly unleashed terror on a group of people who had gathered in the concert hall to spend one evening in joy, they were stupefied by a horror too deep for expression! The poet here has captured that freezing moment in all poignancy. The clocks suddenly stopped and time stood still; the music stopped and the pall of gloom suddenly fell..! Through broken images, the magnitude of the crime and its impact are successfully conveyed. The day is almost like an apocalypse or Doom’s day. The poet denounces the attack as a scoundrels’ act and wonders if the world is falling into the hands of a pack of scoundrels!

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interview, proza

Leila Samarrai: A good writer is one who is not afraid to speak out interviewed for “Afirmator”, the magazine for the arts and social issues, by Tamara Lujak

http://afirmator.org/leila-samarrai-dobar-pisac-je-onaj-koji-se-ne-boji-da-progovori/

The master of of the short story, Leila Samarrai is both published and
award-winning young author. She loves to write, she lives for the
literature, she dreams about having her own manager, like
American writers. Inspired by the Monty Python, by Chaplin, by
everyday situations in our country, she creates sharp, funny,
satirical stories, full of liberating rage and bitterness. Dive into
her world, for a moment…

What is the task of the writer?

The task of the writer is to write well and that’s all. It seems to me
that this is the striking thesis of Joseph Brodsky.

Why do you write?

For pleasure, and because I believe that I have something to say…

Where do you get your ideas?

Is simply, when I hit the table with my fist, a genie from the magic
lamp appears, bowing down to me, saying: “I beg your pardon,
my Magistra Ludi” Then I express my desire which is, immediately,
fulfilled.

11046933_1584598361784951_3934123044165569558_n
What is a good poetry/art and how would you define a poetic
skill?

Art is a game. Poetry is a game. At the end of the day, either
you know how to play or not…

What is a good writer to you?

A good writer is the one who is not afraid to speak up; the one who
dictates the art of the written word. A writer who only scribbles
in silence collecting praises is nothing but an idle reader. He to
whom the written word is flowing through the wounds in the
world descending to the paper, he does not hesitate to give either
criticism or praise. It is his aspiration.

What is the best literature and the purpose of art?

The survival of the human race.

Where did you get the idea to write Boris K (“Everest media”,
Belgrade, 2013)?

In the age of absurd events in Serbia, which go against common
sense, it was not difficult to come up with the idea to write an
absurd satire which would reflect the reality in the witch’s “old
woman Valentina” mirror . Pythonesque burlesque in conjunction
with Kafkaesque atmosphere, in the spirit of Monty Python and
perhaps Chaplin or SF passenger through space and time, are just
some of the references that build the atmosphere. Why
Kafkaesque? Because Boris K. in spite of his Johnny Bravo
powers and abilities is just plain, small, but not so common man,
milled by the wheel of the kafkaesque torture machine “in the
penal colony” – which grinds and bites, in a sophisticated way, but
it… kills … Johnny Bravo effect, the muscles of superhero are
part of the comedy of the absurd. The hyperbole that I like to use,
sometimes to the extreme, is part of the comedy and the comedy,
so to speak, becomes even more comical.

Can we expect a continuation of The Adventures Of Boris K?

Yes, you can. Ideas ideas everywhere.. (I share Plato’s thought), Boris K. is not only the satire – short story hero, he is an omnipresent avatar representing disruptive, although an imaginative cosmopolitan. He deserves the best assembled fable, the beginning, the plot, my favorite peripetia and spicy denouement with a touch of bitter irony at the expense of society.

What are you currently doing?

Like a sculptor, I am chiseling a novel made up of interwoven narratives, fighting for each sentence. This work does not require precision in terms of the well formed plot. It is itself a sleepwalker fantasy in which the vigilant one walks in the dream. It is surreal, like moonwalking…
The title is “The Sleeping Matilde”. It has something magical in it, for me… It follows my narrative sensibility focused not only to action but on shading of complex characters in novel. It has the characteristics of magical realism and’m good at it and I am endlessly enjoying in my work.

Melpomene

Tips to the younger writers?

Go not by the beaten paths. Break the patterns and remember that Kafka, who was the genius, was very unsure of himself. He thought he did not know to write, which he covered up by his famous hysterical laughter when urged to read aloud his works to his friends… Also, he wrote late into the night. This advice does not apply to you if you’re an early riser 🙂

translated from Serbian into English: Leila Samarrai

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proza

The Sermon on the Mount, author: Leila Samarrai, The Adventures Of Boris K.”, part two

Boris K. warned about false conversions during his Crucifixion hereinafter of his adventures “The Adventures Of Boris K.”, part two

Blessed are the poor in mind for they shall get the degree of the public university!
Blessed are those who already eat for they shall be fed!
Blessed are the rich for they will get a bail!
Blessed are those with dirty imagination for they will see the action!
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will take care of us all!
Blessed are the persecuted for they will inherit the free parcels of land!
Rejoice, you shall be rewarded in heaven, but the award is an overeating at the expense of the corporate expense now and immediately in forever and ever. Amen!

Boris K.

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aforizam, proza

Beseda na gori Borisa K.

Blaženi da su siromašni umom, njihova je d iploma državnog fakulteta

Blaženi da su oni koji već jedu jer oni će se nasititi….

Blaženi su bogati jer oni će dobiti kauciju

Blaženi su s prljavom maštom jer oni će akciju videti 

Blaženi su mirotrovci, jer oni će nas sve srediti

Blaženi su oni koji progone jer njihove su slobodne parcele

Blaženi da ste i veselite se jer je nagrada vaša na nebesima al’ nagrada je sad i odmah krkanluko korporativnom trosku vo vjeki vjekov. Amin.

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proza

I AM THE TERRORIST, Leila Samarrai

I am the divine wind
I am the human bomb
Aladin gnawed to the bone

I yam what I yam’s
I am the Terrorist!

It does not matter where
It does not matter who
It’s easy to do it
From the turret
I do it with explosive, too

I yam what I yam’s
I am the Terrorist

I’ll get some cash after my death
Man who will wash my
body
He will have to wear gloves
No woman should touch me then..
But I won’t be vain, just dead (ly)

I’m the Killer Man
I’m the Killing Machine
I yam what I yam’s
And that’s what’s all I am

I’m the Terrorist.

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proza

“Où vas-tu, Seigneur?”, Leila Samarrai

“Où vas-tu, Seigneur?”, Leila Samarrai

A happy game
a first strike
with a ball
in Paris
a first turn
then
turn around
play begins
in Paris

“Où vas-tu, Seigneur?”

The crying stops
the laughter stops
the clocks stop
the dance stops
the ball stops
in midair
breaths are held
the seeds of terror sown
in Paris

“Mais, oùétais-tu, Seigneur?”

The jackals and scoundrels
are exposed…
to a fallen mankind
It is the end of the world.
It has begun…

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poetry

Recommendation of Nemesis, Leila Samarrai

We met by the reflection of the eyes,
Echoed the enamored god
Like Echo mortally in love with pretty Narcissus,
The future suicide from who will grow
The flower and myth of sin with oneself.

With oneself I found that:
My mouth is sutured
My hands mourning songs without masochistic pleasures.
Do you seek within her the aesthetic artistic utterance with truth and freedom?
Or merely an attempt to put things in their real place.
I knew I shall say the monstrous everything or I will say nothing.

(The Minotaur of Tales)
Kill her!
May the sword taste her stomach and breasts
After your fingers and face!
Kill her, and do not mourn her!

It is a gamble, card playing,
A splendid, glorious and retched plea,
To disclose and discover the flaming blade.

(Joan of Ark)
Stab her!
Stab her with a spear!
Remember the dungeons and betrayals!
Remembrance is death for repentance!

We met at one of the impossible places,
We were a pair of unforeseen miracles.
It was a gift, a curse and futility.
Where the glance hits both the one and the other.
The glance that brings and takes away.

The abyss among people laughs in the faces of those who give away their deepest thoughts
Or the histories of loved beings. At the end, a tatter thrown to the road is left.
A fable interesting to none, the secret in the service of the one who scares and enchants.
Will our great freedom and intrepidity judge us out of most noble incentives?
Will our anxieties, the magnificent relics with brutal renditions, whirl in other letters?

Monstrous legislations are governing people and the black hour chokes within us
Both the thinker and the emotive man.
Wrapped in black atmosphere, we buckle , grow pale, the throat spreads its limits
And fear sprouts outside with words attacked by assumptions
And the horrible remembrances followed by cruel pain, self pity and remorse.

(Shepherd Henry Roberts of Salem)
Burn the witch!
Hair by hair let her burn!
May she scream helpless!

Without the strength to continue the letter,
Stumbled by the free to:
Say more!
Say faster!
(necessarily trivial)
I wish to sing
The way it should be or should never.

(Recommendation of Nemesis)
Kill the heart memento
Pertaining to the mocking bird!

She (it) is the boil in my stomach,
She eats it and minces it, destroys
The nightmare from which you cannot awaken by anything except walking and sleepwalking,
While she climbs to heights with a view to the Precipice,
That fills the eyes of the caught sleeper with horror.

(Poe’s recommendation)
Kill her in her own vomit
Without right for mesmerization.

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