Monthly Archives: March 2015

A Viennese Heart

A Viennese Heart
By Alexandra H. Rodrigues

As a delicate child
Facing world’s dilemma
During the storm of times with fighting gone wild
I fled Berlin to become a guest of Vienna.

The harshness of war and political views
Had often touched my tender soul
It made hidden tears flow at gruesome news
Find reason not to worry my biggest goal.

At that a Vienna heart, a genuine Vienna heart
Did hurt with me and shared my pain
Whispered quietly of a new start
While secretly pulsing thru all my grain.

When Vienna I left as Berlin got free
It begged to let in thought it follow
So it always could be there for me
All I would need to do is let it know.

He died before I truly grasped the depth of his gift.
Now I am old but I never forgot
This person who gave me a much needed lift
And unselfishly tried to ease my lot.



By Alexandra H. Rodrigues
Published in Great South Bay Magazine 2014

No, no, no – I am not afraid
Outside it is dark but not yet late.
Lightning bolts crisscross the sky
Dark, threatening clouds keep rushing by.
The power of nature we cannot ignore
We are shocked by thunder’s ominous roar.

This is God when he has reason to scold
As children we were often told.
One can hear the storm approach real fast
And we hope that not too long it will last.
Afraid I am not but tense without doubt
Even my dog appears to pout.

This fiery, noisy show close by
Has rattled my nerves, I cannot deny
We will do well from haughtiness to refrain
And seriously imprint in our brain
That in a superpower’s hand
We are nothing but a speck of sand.

Mom’s Poem

Did my mother write it? She had a poetic vein. Is is the creation of somebody famous? What about all rights reserved? There is no way I can tell. It is dated 1990/91 in the handwriting of my mother, who then was 76 years old. Younger than I am today. Here it is the way she wrote :

Es gibt Wunden die heilen niemals im Leben
Es gibt Tage – Da schmerzen sie nicht.
Man geht daher mit frohem Gesicht –
Bis einer an der Wunde ruehrt
Und man wieder das Brennen spuert.
Es gibt Wunden,
Die heilen niemals im Leben.

Translation: by Alexandra H. Rodrigues
There are wounds that never heal in life.
There are days when you take it in strive.
When one walks around with a smile on the face.
Till somebody stirs up the pain.
Trying to forget is truly in vain.
There are wounds that never heal in life.

March 3, 2015 153