Birds in the bosom

                           ULICA POBEDE

Koraci odbegli

od noći od sna

odjekuju nestvarno,

kišne kapi slivaju

na putu ka cilju.

Slova u ruci

za jutro objašnjenje,

izgovorene reči

prosute na dohvat,

presretnute misli,

od prošle noći sni,
nesanica.

Fragmenti podeljeni

slučajnim prolaznostima,

violina koja staru pesmu

otkriva konačnom trenu

u ponovnom prolazu,

nova i već viđena lica.

Na licu prećutani san

kao otežali oblak kišni,

na ramenu torba želja

razlog da postojimo prolazni

i s težnjom da zamene se obale,

ulicu Pobede za jutro

neko sledeće ostavljam.

I ništa nije završeno

kroz zgusnuto prosejano trunje

dok ne slože se sve slike

na zidu senke se izgube.

STREET VICTORY

Steps runaway

of nights of sleep

echo unreal

raindrops flowing

on the way to the goal

Letters in hand

explanation for the morning,

spoken words

scattered within reach,

intercepted thoughts,

reduction from last night

and insomnia.

Fragments divided

random transience,

violin that old song

reveals the final moment

in re-passing,

new and already seen the face.

On the face of unspoken dream

harder for the cloud rain,

shoulder bag desire

reason that there are transient

and ultimately to replace the coast

won the street for a morning

following a leave.

And nothing is over

sifted trough the dense particles

while not agree to all of the pictures

shadows on the wall are lost


  

 

Birds in the bosom

                          MESEČINA

Kako me prenu!

Iz najdublje misli,

iz spokoja i obamrlosti

srebrni trak mesečev

kroz okno prozorsko.

Kako me kuša?!

U ovaj pozni sat,

kao pijanca staro vino,

ove noći smo saputnici

da bolje mesto usnimo

na čun ruke oslonimo.

I kroz prsten noć,

osećam taj otežali dodir

samo u prolazu,

ništa značajno i istrajno

bez spremnosti za jutro.

Stojim obasjan

kao da budim se

sve jasnije,viđenje,

na bolje mesto usmeren

gde protiču velike reke,

visine dostupnije.


MOONLIGHT


How startled me!
The deepest thoughts,
the tranquility and numbness
silver ribbons moon
through the window pane.


How do I taste?
At this late hour,
like a drunk old wine,
This night we companions
better place to submit
Chun rely on hand.


I ring through the night,
I feel the touch harder
only in passing,
nothing significant and persistent
unprepared for the morning.


I stand illuminated
like to wake up
increasingly clear vision,
directed to a better place
where large rivers flow,
level accessible.

Birds in the bosom

MOJE MESTO NA OBALI


Moje mesto
na obali severa
kad sumrak doziva
iz njedara vetrova.


Dok govoriš
moje ime,
tako jednostavno
i snažno,kao dodir vetra.


Izgubljene korake brojimo
brodove na pučini
i ptice umorne,
između početka i kraja priče.


Na mom mestu čekanja
obala zaćutana
govoriš nešto sasvim tiho
o besprekornoj daljini.


Dok imam taj osećaj pobede
spajanja senki i vala
uzdižem se iz sećanja
do najviše tačke spoznaje.





 MY PLACE ON THE COAST



 

My place
the north coast
When dusk name
from the bosom of winds.

While talking
my name
so simple
and strong, like the touch of the wind.

Step number lost
ships on the high seas
birds and weary,
between the beginning and end of the story.

At my place waiting
silent shore,
something quietly
the impeccable distance.

While I have this feeling of victory
merger wave and shadows
rising from memory
to the highest point of knowledge.

 MIN PLATS PÅ KUSTEN



Min plats
den norra kusten
När skymningen namn
från famn vindar.

Medan de talar
mitt namn
så enkel
och stark, liksom touch av vinden.

Steg nummer förlorade
fartyg på öppet hav
fåglar och trötta,
mellan början och slutet på historien.

Hemma hos mig väntar
tyst strand,
något tyst
oklanderlig avstånd.

Medan jag har denna känsla av seger
fusionsvåg och skuggor
stiger från minnet
till den högsta punkten av kunskap.

Verses - Stihovi

POEZIJA
 

DALJINE


Budi jutro
na mom dlanu,
kap vode
na prah što se gubi.


Daleki sever,
vetar nad pučinom nemira,
iskra u oku
pod otvorenim nebom.


Sad kada sanjam
o visini
i kad sve sam video,
neverujem ponovnosti.


Budi visina
do koje ja bih,
kameni svetionik umara.
Kunem se
sad bih daleko,što dalje.


Među lišće požutelo
što pod dahom jesenjim
tumara.
Ja nisam bio tu,ti budi.



 DISTANCE


Be morning
the palm of my hand,
water drop
the powder is to be lost.


Far North,
wind over the open sea of unrest,
spark in the eye
under the open sky.


Now that dream
on the amount of
when all I saw,
I do not believe again.


Be height
I would do that,
stone lighthouse tired.
I swear
I would now far away.


Among the yellowing of leaves
as the breath of autumn
roams.
I was not there, you be.



SVE PRIČE


Mi smo zatočenici
ovoga brda na kojem vjetrovi biju,
traga duge poslije kiše
moja tiha pjesmo,
u ruci trag rose,
rano jutro se prikrada
preko usana napola riječ.


Klizi prema tebi
kao pero tragom
na bijelom papiru,
ja sam tu negdje
na pola puta prema snu.


S ključem skrivenim u njedrima
kada se vratim,
kada ponekad svratim
sa žutim cvjetovima za tebe
moja tiha pjesmo.
Mi smo zatočeni
s pogledom u nepoznatu daljinu,
obamrli od nestvarne slutnje
i posustalog daha.


Hoću do vrha,
korakom za korakom u ovom plesu,
pijanom.
Mi smo zatočenici ovoga brda
gdje slike su nestvarno vatrene,
kao brodolomstvo preko valova,
s potopljenim mjesecom u pjeni.


Dok strune violina
se čuju,
ponirem,poniremo
u trenu kad poželjena je tišina
i kad bijeg je nestvarna potreba,
nestvarni ples povlači.


Vino ljubi
tamo gdje najviše zalutali smo
u izgubljenom trenu starog romantika,
kad kiše prate dugo
smišljenu nakanu
i kad srušeni su svi prelazi.


Sami smo
među mnogim obespokojenjima
i pitanjima gdje se uspeti ?
Ponirati bez bola,
neka sagori nebo ispod kojeg smo
zalutali !.


U lavirintu
u voćnjaku utočište prećutali,
gdje smo,šta je pod kaputom starim ?
U džepu skrito
toliko snažno na dohvatu.
Moja tiha pjesmo.

ALL STORIES


We are prisoners
this hill where the winds beat,
mark long after the rain
my silent songs
trail of rose in her hand,
early morning stalking
through word of mouth half.


Glides toward you
footsteps as a feather
on white paper,
I'm here somewhere
halfway to the dream.


On the key hidden in the bosom
when I get back,
Sometimes when you stop by
with yellow flowers for you
my silent song.
We have detained
with a view to an unknown distance
fainted from fanciful conjecture
and the stalled breath.


I want to tip,
step by step in this dance,
drunk.
We are prisoners of this hill
where the pictures are surreal fire,
as a ship wreckage over the waves,
flooded with moon in the foam.


While the violin strings
be heard,
sinks, delves
in an instant when the silence is highly recommended:
and when the flight is unreal needs,
unreal dance retreats.


Wine loves
where we wandered up
lost in the moment of the old romance,
when rains follow a long
premeditated intent
if all transitions have been destroyed.


We ourselves
among many undead
and issues where they succeed?
Sink without pain,
Let burn the sky under which we
stray!.


In the labyrinth
suppressed in the orchard shelter,
where we are, what was the old coat?
The stash pocket
so hard to reach.
My silent song.























TO JE IMAGINACIJA KAMILLE


Pusti neka voda nosi,
kiša spira sve,
a ja ?
Ja sam već otišao.


Kamille ti si već zvala.


Tvoji doušnici plave vatre
potirali su tragove
i uzglavlje razmeštali
obično kada odem,
s ledenim vetrom u leđima.


Sada slobodno reci
Kamille !
To je tvoj glas
i ne ostavljaj žute cvetove
na mojim dlanovima,
slobodna kao ptica
nad mirišljavim liparom.


Šta si odgovorila ?
Ništa,
samo stara,bleda fotografija
u tvojoj ruci govori.


A ja učim nepostojanost
i svoje loše navike ostavljam
na ulazu.

TO THE IMAGINATION KAMILLE


Let the water carry,
rain washes all,
I?
I am already gone.


Kamille you've already called.


Your informants blue fire
suppressed the evidence
and arranging the head
usually when I go,
the icy wind at their backs.


Now feel free to tell
Kamille!
It's your voice,
and have yellow flowers
on my palms
Free as a bird
the scents of Lipari.


What did you respond?
nothing
just an old, faded photos
in your hand speaks.


And I am learning volatility
and leave their bad habits
at the entrance.