A discovery/Otkrice
From behind all the twilights and evening shadows
Under all the covers
And you who do the night rims vigils
Under all sand clocks
And far from those who chase
The windmills of their won restlessness
From behind all the silences hidden within themselves
From behind all the words hidden within themselves
That we were silent with
I took out a flame a fire of the being
It's not the doors locked by the mind
It's not by the mind
Those are not the loves plundered by a heart
Those are not the creatures dried out by the heart
It's not the heart hunt but it's with the heart
It's you and I
And she and he
Those breathings there and these breathings here
That breathe in life everywhere and forever
And they are never now
Oh if we were now how could we be
Otkrice
Iza svih sutona i vecernjih sjenki
Ispod svih pokrivaca
I vas nocobdija okorjele noci
Ispod svih pješcanih satova
I dalje od onih što ganjaju
Vjetrenjace sopstvenih nemira
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih cutanja
Iza svih u sebi skrivenih rijeci kojima smo cutali
Izvukla sam plamen
Oganj samog bice
To nisu umom zakljucana vrata
To nije umom
To nisu srcem poharane ljubavi
To nisu srcem ispijena bica
To nije lov srca no srcem je
To smo ti i ja
I ona tamo i ova ovdje disanja
Što životom dišu svugdje i zauvijek
I nikada u sada
O da smo sada kako bismo bili
1995.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
What a path cannot say (Nafaka)
Eternity will
All of us there
Take a long rest of all the thoughts
What treetops cry will settle in a breath
Pass away alongide myself
Everything there
Take a long rest of all the thoughts
sve sto staza srca ne moze da kaze
reci ce vjecnost
svi tamo
na veliki odmor svih misli
sve sto placu krosnje stace u dah
nestati zajedno samnom
sve tamo na veliki odmor
svih misli
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Silence is the sound of creation/Tisina je zvuk stvaranja
Silence is the sound of creation
An ultimate craving of all the words
As they long for a peace of the Word
Silence sound silence sound
That’s the rhythm of life
Tisina je zvuk stvaranja
Konacna ceznja svih rijeci
Dok teze miru Rijeci
Tisina zvuk tisina zvuk
To je ritam zivota
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Od Cežnje Nabrekla Dahom Ukleta
Sopstvenu sjenku gazim
Sašivenom haljom od hiljade ljeta
Zmijom ugrižena zemljama gazim
I tu sam sasvim gdje još me ima
Gdje rijeci mi još blagoslov mole
S krajickom proljeca u snu smrtnih zima
Zraci me misli griju i još vole
U vatri gašena na lomaci slutnji
Da rijecju još je obrecena nada
U stisku neba u dnu svih slutnji
Gdje bezdano liže plamen mog pada
Od cežnje nabrekla dahom ukletim
Svom miru za jedan plamen sam bliže
Tu sam da dišem još malo da letim
Jer rijec me vatre na oltar diže
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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It's written in here/Ovdje pise
It's written in here all that hurts
it's written in here all that laughs
it's written in here all that wants
it's written in here all that waits
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all
it's written in here butterflies in heart
it's written in here all dresses torn
it's written in here twilight and dawn
it's written in here clocks in the soul
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all
ovdje piše sve što boli
ovdje piše sve što se smije
ovdje piše sve što hoće
ovdje piše sve što čeka
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne ćitaj uopšte
ovdje piše leptiri u srcu
ovdje piše rašivene halje
ovdje piše zore i sutoni
ovdje piše satovi u duši
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne čitaj uopšte
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A bullet proof thought/Misao otporna na metak
A bullet proof thought
Pushed away determines the edges of a goal
A life style built on the margins of its own lie
Hardly overcoming a life form
Like a deadly foe always ready to shoot
Sworn by dawn and its own branch of the sun
To settle it on a thin beam of breathing
You asked me where one should go
I the daughter of a sorry
I am carried towards her own edges
Where each goal is to disappear into the clouds
And sing new skies in an armful of white
I dwell within the kiss of the paths
In a street made up of one name only
Pushed down the number thirty five
On the threshold of all the houses a doormat of a dwelling
Knocking with its heart on its own door
And my eyes fall down my own windows
Down to a mad world
That's become less painful
Since the moment I stopped looking for
Miraculous meanings of words
Grown within time and layers of the uttered
Now I first give them to the birds
If they don't eat I don't eat eaither
That's where I'm going
What about you
Misao otporna na metak
Skrajnuta odreduje ivice cilja
Životni stil izgraden na marginama sopstvene laži
Tesko preboljeva životnu formu
Ko smrtnog neprijatelja uvijek spremnog na pucanj
Zakletog svitanjem sopstveni ogranak sunca
Da ugnijezdi na tankoj zraci disanja
Pitala si me kuda
Ja kci jednog žao mi je
Nošena na sopstvene rubove
Gdje svaki cilj je nestati oblakom
Narucjem bjeline ispjevati nova neba
Stanujem u poljupcu staza
U ulici sazdanog od samo jednog imena
Gurnutog s broja trideset i pet
Na pragu svih kuca otirac stanovanja
Što srcem kuca na sopstvena vrata
A oci mi padaju niz sopstvene prozore
Dolje na sludjeni svijet
Što postaje manje bolan otkad ne tražim
Cudotvorna znacenja rijeci
Uraslih u vrijeme i slojeve recenog
Sad ih prvo dam pticama
Ako ih ne jedu necu ni ja
Eto tuda idem
A ti
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Someone Not You/Neko Ko Nije Ti
someone not you
someone not me
someone not us
someone long ago
somewhere quite close
they weaved the curse
someone long ago
somewhere quite close
they dug a grave
someone not you
someone not me
they know
who that was
who within us
slapped the dawn
neko ko nije ti
neko ko nije ja
neki koji nisu mi
neko nekada davno
negdje sasvim blizu nas
ispleo je kob
neko nekada davno
negdje sasvim blizu nas
kopao je grob
neko ko nije ti
neko ko nije ja
zna
ko su ti
koji su u nama
osamarili svitanje
1993.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Dawn Lifted The Fogs From The Ground
And it didn’t find my song
The day spread beyond the waters
Opened the flowers of breathing
Moved the murmurs of life
But it didn’t find my song
And the dead lips spoke
The language of graveyard stones
The dead lips san through the dusk
But they didn’t find my song
The night dropped the fogs on the ground
But it didn’t find my song
Zora je podigla magle sa zemlje
Ali nije pronasla moju pjesmu
Dan se raskrilio nad vodama
Otvorio latice disanja
Pokrenuo zamore zivota
I nije pronasao moju pjesmu
Usne su mrtve progovorile
Jezikom groblja kamnim
Usne mrtve suton pjevale
Ali nisu pronasle moju pjesmu
I noc je spustila magle na zemlju
Ali nije pronasla moju pjesmu
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You, very human/Ti, veoma ljudsko
you who are everything out of your nothing
you co-builder co-creator
you whom I'm building and you're being torn down
you a participant of my answer
someone facing the otherness
I facing myself
you facing yourself
you very human sometimes too much
sometimes not at all
a token inhaled into dust
you a tribe you a nation you a world
you the skin of the sun the desert the night and the snow
you always the same
your heart and mind paving heaven and hell
you who are everything out of your nothing
ti koji si sve od svoga nista
ti sa-graditelj sa-tvoritelj
ti što te gradim a ti se razgradjujes
ti sa-ucesnik mog odgovora
spram drugosti neko
spram sebe ja
spram tebe ti
ti veoma ljudsko nekad isuviše
nekad uopšte
ti pleme ti narod ti svijet
umom i srcem poplocan pakao i raj
ti koji si sve od svoga ništa
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You carry your heart-Ti srce nosiš
you carry your heart under your coat
for no one wants it there
you carry your soul deep beneath
like an old dusty music box
which has been opened once only
ti srce nosiš ispod kaputa
jer tamo ga neće niko
ti dušu nosiš duboko ispod
kao prašnjavu staru
samo jednom otvorenu muzičku kutiju
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Yes I Am That Cast Away Shadow/Da Ja Sam Ta Odbacena Sjenka
Merry go spin that walks through your door
Chasing the tail of a wild beast night
And jealous of the moon that snarles at the hunt
Yes I can turn the wisps of smoke spelled signs
Into the raincall that falls into your eyes
To fulfill a promise made within a drop
Of plenitude vacancy jigsaw puzzled thought
Reverberating through your starvexed mind
Yes I once wrote an ode to a Moon beam
And a biography of a pallid white
Paling across the face of earth
And loved it the way a woman loves its own disease
No I can never belong to you
Unless you belong to yourself
Da ja sam ta odbacena sjenka
Što se ludo vrti prolazi ti kroz vrata
I što juri rep divlje zvjeri noci
Ljubomorna na mjesec što reži pri lovu
Da mogu pretvoriti zvuk srocen od pramena dima
U kišni zov što ti u oci sipa
Da ispuni obecanje sazdano u kapi
Punoce praznine zagonetke klackalice misli
Što odzvanja zvijezdom uznemirenim umom
Da jednom sam napisala odu zraci Mjeseca
I biografiju blijedila preko lica zemlje
I zavoljela ga kao što žena voli sopstvenu bolest
Ne ne mogu ti nikada pripasti
Osim ako ne pripadneš sebi
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A different heart
I am the thing
You don’t know about yourself
You are the thing
I don’t know about me
But once we meet
There will be
A different heart
Beating in each one of us
ja sam ono što ne znaš o sebi
ti si ono što ne znam o meni
ali jednom
kada se sretnemo
bice drugacije srce
što kuca u svakom od nas
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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This is not my face/Ovo nije moje lice
This is not my face
This thing oozing out of your insipid reflection theories
When you're putting it into A is A A is B B is C
You know
C is maybe a newly born naked
Syllogism pointing at a tzar
So that you can ask him ask him
‘Tzar tzar oh master tell us what's the time'
And the tzar cannot hear you for he's got a goat's ears
This is not my face
This thing you're folding after you've ironed it
And placed it among the skirts trousers and shirts
You know
A shirt is perhaps a flag of my home
Put on a post to limit the borders of pain
So that you may ask it ask it
‘Does it hurt does it hurt tell us what's the time'
And the pain cannot hear you for its ears are cut
This is not my face
This thing you're turning to see it from each side
Whenever you turn it from A to B from B to C
You know
C is perhaps just a point without a face
Thrown into the universe
A monada looking for the Father
Why don't you take your reflections home
Ovo nije moje lice
To što curi iz bljutavih teorija odraza
Kada ga sklapate u A je A, A je B, B je C
Znate
C je možda ko od majke roden
Silogizam što upire prstom u cara
Pa ga pita pa ga pita
Care care o gospodare ko'ko ima sati
A car ne cuje jer ima kozje uši
Ovo nije moje lice
To što sklapate poslije peglanja
Medu suknje pantalone i košulje
Znate
Košulja je možda zastava moga doma
Na kolac nabijena da omedi bol
Da ga pitate da ga pitate
'Boli li boli li koliko je sati'
A bol ne cuje jer su mu odsjecene uši
Ovo nije moje lice
To što okrecete da se iz svih uglova vidi
Kadgod ga okrecete od A do B od B do C
Znate C je možda
Samo tacka bez lica
Bacena u svemir
Monada što traži Oca svog
Zašto ne nosite svoje odraze kuci
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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the heart will move away the sorrow(Nafaka)
even if it is cursed under the sky
this being of mine not important
the heart will move away the sorrow
like birds out of their nests the hours will flow
to the point of no return
to the point of no return
the heart will move away the sorrow
I want to rejoice
time is just a possibility of the eternal
the heart will move away the sorrow
I want to dance be one with the rhythm of being
The heart will move away the sorrow
There will be joy there
There will be a blue of the joy there
A meaning cut off from a word
It will flow to the point of no return
To the point of no return
Come with me and sing
The songs of the tribes
Let’s get crazy under the eaves
It won’t be cold
The heart will move away the sorrow
Let it echoe within us from now into eternity
The rhythm of being
The mountains reverbarate
The name of the man
and the name of the woman
and the name of the child
the name of innocence
and the name of experience
come here rejoice
come here and sing
come here and touch
within a snowflake
within a raindrop
within a rock
within a leave of grass
in sparkles of hope
under the blue an outstretsched sense
the heart will move away the sorrow
the heart will move away the sorrow
srce raselice tugu
neka je prokleto pod nebom trajanje moje jer vazno nije
srce raselice tugu
ko ptice
iz gnijezda poteci ce sati
u nepovrat u nepovrat
srce raselice tugu
hocu da se radujem
vrijeme je samo mogucnost vjecnog
srce raselice tugu
hocu da plesem sa ritmom bica da se stopim
srce raselice tugu
tamo ce biti radost
tamo ce biti od sna plavo otkinut smisao sa rijeci
poteci ce u nepovrat u nepovrat
srce raselice tugu
dodjite pjevajte samnom
pjesme plemena
ludujte samnom pod strehama hladno biti nece
srce raselice tugu
neka odjekne u nama odavde do vjecnosti ritam bica
srce raselice tugu
odjeknuce planine ime covjeka
i ime zene i ime djeteta
ime zrenja i ime nevinosti
srce raselice tugu
dodjite radujte
dojite pjevajte
dodjite taknite
u pahulji kapi kise
u kamenu travki
iskrama nade
ispod plavog prostrt smisao
srce raselice tugu
srce raselice tugu
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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To be here (Nafaka)
Means eternity
The full circle of waiting
Like the full Moon hanging beyond the eave
To be here
Means a presence
Without space and limits
A day full of a moment
Like a dot in a universe
To be here
Means constructedness
In the best of all the worlds
BITI TU
znaci vjecnost
pun krug cekanja
ko pun Mjesec objesen nad strehom
Biti tu
znaci prisutnost
bez prostora omedjenosti
dan pun trenutka
ko tacka u svemiru
Biti tu
znaci sazdanost
u najboljem od svih svjetova
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Last night
Last night I asked the drop
what nobody had dared to ask before
I said
come on, isn't it time you washed my face
isn't it time you stopped falling in tears
isn't it time for me to drink you
isn't it time for you to touch me
isn't it time for me to see the world within you
come on, what are you waiting for
why don't you finally fall down
that was the rage of a dead chicken
Sinoc sam rekla kaplji
sto joj niko ranije nije smio reci
rekla sam
hajde, nije li vrijeme da me umijes
nije li vrijeme da suzom prestanes
nije li vrijeme da te popijem
nije li vrijeme da dotaknes
nije li vrijeme da u tebi sagledam svijet
hajde sta cekas
zasto vec jednom prosto ne kanes
bio je to bijes mrtvog pileta
Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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An Orangutan And The Truth (Scratching And Stretching) -Orangutan i Istina
This is how an orangutan who one day played a research in the unsearchable fields of life came to the essence of the existence.
He stood under the treetop of his favourite tree in the banana group and watched a yellowish reflection of newly matured fruits. And he admired them endlessly amazed at the possibility of the yellow.
Then he slowly started to climb. On the first branch he saw the first circles of time and he scratched his head. On the second branch he saw a circled space of the treetop and he scratched his tail. On the third branch pressured by the instinct of manual movement he stretched his arm toward the fruit. On the fourth branch he found out what evolition was. He didn't dare to move forward. But he was eating, he was eating so sweetly and couldn't stop and he told himself that life was beautiful, absolutely beautiful.
The sun was setting down and unresearched regions of the treetop were approached by another orangutan who, having been pressured by the same instinct of the manual movement (Hello Marx) , advanced toward the discovery of an ax.
He stood under the same treetop in which the first orangutan was having a jolly good time lulled within great opportunities of the existence. He jumped high and cut the branch on which the first orangutan had been having a jolly good time. Everything would have been different if the ax carrying orangutan hadn't wanted to find out the point. The whole drama of this event was just an experimental attempt at life. Or simply monkey business.
Evo kako je orangutan koji se jednog dana u neistrazenim predjelima zivota igrao istrazivanjem istog dosao do sustine svega postojeceg.
Stao je ispod krosnje omiljenog drveta u banana hordi i posmatrao zuckasti odraz tek sazrelih plodova. I divio se beskrajno zacudjen mogucnoscu zutog.
Onda je lagano poceo da se penje. Na prvoj grani ugledao je prve godove vremena i pocesao se po glavi.
Na drugoj grani ugledao je omedjen prostor krosnje i pocesao se po repu.
Na trecoj grani pritisnut instiktom manualnog kretanja pruzio je ruku ka plodu.
Na cetvrtoj grani je saznao sta je to evolucija. Dalje nije smio da avanzuje. Ali je jeo, jeo slatko nezadrzivo i govorio sebi kako je zivot lijep, beskrajno lijep.
Palo je vece i u neistrazene prostore krosnji dosetao je drugi orangutan koji je pritisnut instiktom manualnog pregnuca (zdravo Markse) uznapredovao do izuma sjekire.
Stao je upravo ispod one krosnje na kojoj se sjajno zabavljao prvi orangutan uljuljkan u velikim mogucnostima egzistencije. Skocio visoko zamahnuo sjekirom i prelomio granu na kojoj je ovaj drijemao. Sve bi bilo sasvim drugacije da orangutan sa sjekirom nije zelio da spozna sustinu. Citava drama ovog dogadjaja zapravo je pokusaj eksperimenta sa zivotom. Ili prosto majmunska posla.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A thought from the threshold of pain
Making way through the fire alarms
With a broken rear mirror in hand
The debris of fingers moved over
Heart shattered pictures of an escape
Through the solitary halls of blind light
There circled a thought from the threshold of pain
Whispered through the homeless birds’ cages
At the bottom of the staircase with a mad vision
On her palm Pythia the Stunt stood
Reading her own shadow off
Like a badly picked up trailer of a movie
That never saw its cinema projection
As the screens had been greedily swallowed
Like a fee cast to a poor director
Through the tyranny of madness fed on bravery charisma
There circled a thought from the threshold of pain
Like the last hero throwing away
The dice pictured in all Picaro faces
Straight into the arms of the hungry world
Craving a golden mean
Krceci put kroz protivpožarne alarme
Sa slomljenim retrovizorom u ruci
Srca prstiju preskakala je
Srcem izlomljene slike bjekstva
Kriz usamljene hodnike obnevidjelog svjetla
Kružila je misam sa praga bola
Šaptala kroz krletke bezdomnih ptica
U dnu stepeništa s poludjelom vizijom na dlanu
Stajala je Pitija Kaskaderka citajuci svoju tihu sjen
Kao loše izabran trejler iz nekog filma
Što nikada nije ugledao svoju projekciju
Jer platna bjehu halapljivo sažvakana
Kao honorar bacen siromašnom režiseru
Tiranijom ludila harizmom smjelosti hranjena
Kružila je misao sa praga bola
Ko posljednji heroj bacila je kocku
Oslikanu svim licima Pikara
Ravno u narucje gladnog svijeta
Što žudi za zlatnom sredinom
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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It’s A Passion Inflicted Flickering Light / To Je Patnjom Pogodjeno Treperavo Svjetlo
That dies away in candles unlit
It defines the circumference of its own burning
Gracefully etched in fragile petals kissed
By lips now mute in fields of gold now blooming
Like little fires cast into the hearth of my heart
Like flames of my dawn coming never to depart
To je patnjom pogodeno treperavo svjetlo
Što umire u neupaljenim svijecama
Ono odreduje obim u kom gori
Graciozno urezbareno u krhkim petaljkama poljubljeno
Usnama sada nijemim što u poljima zlata sad pupe
Kao male vatre bacene što ognjištu srca vode
Kao plamenje zore kad mi dode da nikada ne ode
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I met people who did not know
How to pick up a lily
And that its skin breaks under the steel
Of a too long gaze from the mountain top
And that its petal knows nothing of its root
And that the night falls only when it lowers the buds
Thirsty of the sun and the sun's only the wolf's one
Howling at the wounds of a torn out flower
Srela sam ljude koji nisu znali
Kako se bere ljiljan
I da njegova koža puca pod celikom
Suviše dugog pogleda sa vrha planina
I da njegova peteljka ne zna njegov korijen
I da kad spusti latice tek onda padne noc
Žedna sunca a ono samo vucje
Zavija na rane pokidanog cvijeta
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Nosi me kamen
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
S kamenom rođen već sam teret svijeta
Sezamska ćutnja sopstvenih vrata
S pticom u kamenu bez krila i leta
Ulaskom survan prevrnut tas
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
Nosi me uzbrdo odronom slomljen
Visinom do eha što odriče ga glas
Do vrha grla zapet težak nijemo sklonjen
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen a ja nosim nijemost
Nosi me kamen a ja riječi nosim
Nosi me kamen težak kao riječi
Nosi me kamen a ja pusta golemost
Od kamena bolestan kamenom se liječim
Spomenom što ga od kamena prosim
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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