Ýowşan Annagurban

Me, the poet, and the ChatGPT

Yesterday I wrote a poem about Prague and asked the ChatGPT to look at it. Here are two versions of one poem, the poet and the machine versions.


It's Prague, where I live now,
the second city I enjoy after Ashgabat,
which I miss almost every other day,
but here, in the mother of cities,
the historical capital of Bohemia,
I enjoy its relatively warm summers,
if you go to the Prague Castle,
Charles Bridge or Old Town Square,
will see the endless tourists,
who makes you forget your worries,
look on the bright side of tests.

Before it, I bathed in the Bergen rains,
surrounded by mountains and fjords,
including Sognefjord,
flying from bloody Moscow,
where the KGB headquarters is located,
after hiding from my possible kidnappers,
where I learned how to bribe the police,
when I was caught while out for bread,
for I was afraid of being deported back,
end up in the KGB cell again,
thank God, I enjoy walking for hours here,
while my homeland enjoys its brain drain.


By the ChatGPT


In Prague, where I now reside, A city that beckons with arms open wide, Second only to Ashgabat’s embrace, Yet memories of it I cannot erase.

The historical heart of Bohemia it claims, A tapestry of stories etched in its ancient frames, Warm summers grace its cobblestone streets, Where tourists gather, their excitement replete.

At Prague Castle, a sentinel on high, Or Charles Bridge, where the Vltava flows by, Old Town Square bustles with life and cheer, Tourists aplenty, their laughter sincere.

Worries fade amidst Gothic spires tall, As sun-kissed days weave their magical thrall, Bright side of tests, a lesson well learned, In Prague’s embrace, new perspectives earned.

But before Prague’s allure, another tale unfolds, Of Bergen’s rains, fjords, and mountains bold, Sognefjord’s majesty, a sight to behold, From bloody Moscow, a journey untold.

KGB shadows loomed, a chilling pursuit, Hiding from kidnappers, fear taking root, Bribing police, a desperate gambit played, Caught while seeking bread, debts unpaid.

Deportation fears, KGB cells in the night, Yet here in Prague, under daylight’s soft light, I walk for hours, my heart unchained, While my homeland grapples with a different refrain.

Brain drain and longing, a bittersweet strain, Prague, my refuge, where memories remain, In this city’s embrace, I find solace anew, A traveler’s heart, forever split in two.

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