
                                                         A mi patria Venezuela, que algún día será libre de nuevo.


Vendrán
La mano airada y el gesto parco
La tinta trémula
El día acechando los anchurosos deseos
El fértil refugio de quien clama
El regreso al adentro
La savia y el sustento
Los colibríes que espero
La desesperación de los vehementes que esclarecen la historia
Los vocablos heroicos
Los pies impacientes
Las aguas de memoria absoluta a lavar la inicua isla de los tiranos
La interrogante de los exiliados 
rodeando a la carne tumefacta del injusto
las voces airadas en las devastaciones
el flujo y reflujo del futuro
el valor exaltado que forja al poema de hierro
la identidad
la extrañeza
la honda gloria del dolor del torturado
                                                                 a reclamar


They will come

The angry hand and the sparse gesture
The trembling ink
The day stalking the broad desires
The fertile refuge of those who cry out
The return to the inside
The sap and sustenance
The hummingbirds I await
The desperation of the vehement who clarify history
The heroic words
The impatient feet
The waters of absolute memory to wash the wicked island of tyrants
The question of the exiles 
surrounding the swollen flesh of the unjust
the angry voices in the devastation
the ebb and flow of the future
the exalted courage that forges the iron poem
identity
strangeness
the deep glory of the tortured's pain
to reclaim

Ils viendront

La main furieuse et le geste avare
L'encre tremblante
Le jour guettant les désirs immenses
Le refuge fertile de celui qui crie
Le retour à l'intérieur
La sève et la subsistance
Les colibris que j'attends
Le désespoir des passionnés qui éclairent l'histoire
Les mots héroïques
Les pieds impatients
Les eaux de la mémoire absolue pour laver l'île inique des tyrans
La question des exilés 
entourant la chair enflée de l'injuste
les voix furieuses dans les dévastations
le flux et le reflux de l'avenir
le courage exalté qui forge le poème de fer
l'identité
l'étrangeté
la profonde gloire de la douleur du torturé
à réclamer

Verranno

La mano irata e il gesto parco
L'inchiostro tremante
Il giorno che insegue i desideri smisurati
Il rifugio fertile di chi grida
Il ritorno all'interno
La linfa e il sostentamento
I colibrì che aspetto
La disperazione dei veementi che chiariscono la storia
Le parole eroiche
I piedi impazienti
Le acque della memoria assoluta a lavare l'iniqua isola dei tiranni
L'interrogativo degli esiliati 
che circonda la carne tumefatta dell'ingiusto
le voci rabbiose nelle devastazioni
il flusso e riflusso del futuro
il valore esaltato che forgia il poema di ferro
l'identità
la stranezza
la profonda gloria del dolore del torturato
                                                                 a reclamare

Gabriel Ganiarov
Copirigth: 2014

Vendrán

Gabriel Ganiarov
My work is born where language collapses and the tremor takes root. I write poems: I summon resonances. I am neither a producer nor a beatmaker: I am a poet who has learned to breathe with machines, to dance with code, to translate electricity into memory.

This sonic space I inhabit is the extension of my writing. Every song you hear here was conceived from the pulse of a poem—not one that aspires to formal perfection, but to the crack, the fold, the lingering echo of a soul that refuses to be silenced.

I call this gesture synaptic poetry: a lyrical architecture woven from unexpected connections—between word and algorithm, between emotion and machine, between exile and belonging. The melodies that accompany me here were designed with artificial intelligence, but it is my voice that activates them, my story that embodies them, my resistance that gives them meaning. There is no artifice without soul.

I am part of a displaced, fragmented generation—but not a silenced one. I come from the analog age and have evolved into the digital. That is why my aesthetic answers to what I call the Poetics of the Margin: not a lesser aesthetic, but an ethical stance. I write from the edges of the cultural map and from the fissures of the industry; I sing from the diaspora, not as a victim, but as a witness, as an exile of noise and a cartographer of whisper.

Here, on this profile, converge verses sung in more than one language, rhythms that have crossed sonic borders, and wounds that, when they dance, become bridges. Listening to these songs is opening the door to a lyrical continent where nostalgia merges with the digital pulse, and intimacy becomes expansive.

Welcome to this musical frontier where poems pulse and scars sing.
Here there is center, there is root.
Here there is homeland, there is voice.
Here, you can hear the rain falling—and also create from the beat, let the glitch run free, and endow poetry with binary code, in tune with the times we live in…

Poet,Author,Composer,Songwriter. Proudly born in Venezuela, living in Perú
kata ton daimona eiatoy
Follower of the Ligth

Cada día es una bendición, una oportunidad más para crear algo nuevo para dar lo mejor de cada uno de nosotros, no tengas miedo a crear, no temas a las críticas y tómalas como un impulso y no como un ancla. La perfección no existe porque está te puede llevar a la frustración hasta llegar a perder el amor por lo que haces pero si solo trabajamos en mejorar lo que vas creando estarás siempre abierto al cambio que será siempre positivo.  El amor es la base de todo.♥️🥰🌻