A Collection of Poems: La Recueil des Poèmes

Par Kauveh Rusta

Nearly all my poems from 18 years old till nowadays.

It is very hard to be a poet. Harder than that is to remain a poet your whole Life. 

From this po

• Langue: Français
• Éditeur: Prime Seven Media
• Date de sortie: 18 juil. 2025
• ISBN: 9781966652762

Kauveh Rusta

Why do we do art painting? Here is the qustion! Answer, for me, there was nobody around me to paint as I wanted it to be. Born in 1962, the 28th of November in Tehran/Iran, in a modest family of 8. Resident in Brussels/Belgium since 1985 neer returning there at all. First he did 3 successful years in Medicine but after 3 years he gave up. But is was far away to an end to all. It was 1989 and he joined the royal fine arts academy (painting) where he was finally graduated in 2006 although he was not there for a graduation paper but only a need for a place to work on living models. The first disformation appeared quite soon (1992), from then on, his art works present a high tendencies towards the “Quatumanisme” where he is the pioneer. The book presents the manifestation of it, with many exhibitions all around Europe during 30 years hard work. “I have the passion for art painting all my life and more!” He says. He joined the Christianity in 2009, where he lived “The romance of his life” as he confesses about it. He is married and has a baby, son.

Aperçu du livre

Copyright © 2025 by Kauveh Rusta

Paperback: 978-1-966652-75-5

Hardcover: 978-1-968667-16-0

eBook: 978-1-966652-76-2

Library of Congress Control Number: 2025904873

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of nonfiction.

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Tomah City, WI 54660

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شاید؟

نه،

شاید دیگر هیچ باشد

زندگی،

نه حتی دیگر فروغ افروختن یک سیگار،

بل شاید

خاموشی آن

در قعر لحظات گمشده.

چنگ و دندان شاید

به نفسی

حتی به دم مرگ زا،

آی زمین

ای چرکین زیر سیگاری

مملو و

متغفن

25/03/1988

Bruxelles

Maybe?

Maybe there’s nothing

in life.

No,

Not even lighting up a cigarett

Yes maybe

The silence of it

is drowned, lost in moments..

Maybe

A stuggling breath comes

grapps led, tooth and nail

Even a breath, deadly..

Ah universe, oh cosmos

Oh the dirt in my ash-tray

Only fall

Put to rest..

25/03/1988

Bruxelles

Non peut-être.

Non,

peut-être que cela n’est plus rien

la vie.

même pas la brillance aveuglante

d’allumer une cigarette,

mais son étouffement

au fond des moments perdus.

bec et ongle pour survivre

une respiration

mortelle.

Bruxelles, 25/03/1988

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