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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Related quotes
What Made The Breathing So Soft And So Silent-Ono Što Je Uč İ nilo Disanje Tako Mekanim İ Tako Tihim
when the pillows choked a feather made dream
was the sound of the wells mute to the light of day
their water still dripping right through my hands
not a single dropp could contain the thought
ono što je uč inilo disanje tako mekanim i tako tihim
kad su jastuci ugušili paperjasti san
bješe zvuk bunara nijemih za svjetlost dana
njihova mi voda još teč e kroz šake
nijedna kap nije mogla da uhvati misao
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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The Glass/Č Aša
Would you have liked it if it had not been broken?
Who likes those smashed ones standing
At the edges of the tables made of pain
Who likes to put them together like pieces of a puzzle
Fill them with the water from their own fountain
Drink them to the bottom and smash them again?
Dali bi je volio da nije bila slomljena?
Ko voli one što skrhano stoje
Na ivicama trpeza od bola
Ko voli da ih ko slagalicu spoji
Napuni vodom sa svoga izvora
Ispije do dna i ponovo razbije?
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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At the place where the darkness burnt out
the whip of your love
opened the wounds ripe for the blood
the bitterness of your lips
it opened the thought for a death
it's easier to die
that drawn the touch of your pain
into the fire of darkness
tamo gdje je izgoreo mrak
bič tvoje ljubavi
rane otvara za smrt
tvojih usana pelin
misao otvara za smrt
umrijeti je lakše
no dodir tvog bola
u požar tmine uroniti
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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When you turn the other page of a cheek/Kad okreces drugu stranicu obraza
When you turn the other page of a cheek
A slap of morn written abyss down your neck
A glove that you lift right from the floor
To throw it into the face of the tree swallowers
That keep growing faster than the boughs
Up to the sky lid in the cauldron of each word
Does it ever come to your mind
What it is there that bursts out in a dream
Do you then think of streets those winding snakes
With their tongue dipped into the poison paths
The buses that turn questionless to a wheel
Insanity spinning both Alladin and the lamp
A sign post in the dark
Do you then think of the houses windows and doors
And heart beats facing the gate of the entrance
As if it was the first time to come into a human
Not knowing whether the host was inside
Do you then think those thoughts from the threshold of pain
Making way to earth mother dust and death
To rest all your thoughts at the end of the road
When the earth bursts out and leaves you with no breath
Kad okreceš drugu stranicu obraza
šamar jutra ispisan brazdama do vrata
rukavicu koju podižeš sa poda
i bacaš u lice gutacima drveca
što rastu brže od granja
do poklopca neba u kotlu svake rijeci
pomisliš li nekad šta puca u snu
misliš li tad na ulice krivudave zmije
s jezikom umocenim u otrov puta
autobuse pretocene u tocak bez pitanja
što bezumno okrece Aladina i lampu
putokaz u mraku
misliš li tad na kuce prozore i vrata
na lupanje srca pred kapijom na ulaz
kao da prvi put ulaziš u covjeka
a ne znaš da li je domacin unutra
misliš li misli sa praga bola
što put krce zemlji majci od praha
da na kraju puta odmoriš sve misli
kada zemlja pukne i kad ostaneš bez daha
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Fire forever (Nafaka)
the rings of fire I’ll throw into the sky
let the twilight burn let it burn the night
the fires of souls down the river flow
fire and yesterday fire and tomorrow
fire forever
the thought of fire I’ll burn under my fingers
let the breath into the chains into the chains
let there be a fire
let there be a darkness
the morning in chains let it burn
hundreds of bracelets decorate the hands
what you can hear is the sound of their ashes
let them butn the touches into the dust
big fires upon the horizon
the fire of dawn
the fire of twilight
the fire of midnight
fire forever
and just two tiny earings of pain
on the ears to remain like little flames
cracking listening
for everything to go away
within a red memory
fire forever
and two tiny earings of pain
beyond a dusty curse in eternity to meet
let them burn in touch let them burn in passion
for everything broken in suffering to go away
fire forever
vatra zauvijek
prstenja od vatre u nebesa bacicu
da gori sumrak da gori noc
pozari dusa niz velike rijeke neka poteku
vatra i juce vatra i danas vatra i sutra
vatra zauvijek
pod prstima sprzicu misao vatre
u lance u lance neka ide dah
neka bude pozar
neka bude mrak
neka sagori u okovima jutro
narukvica sto neka kiti ruke
to sto zvecka pepeo je njihov
zvukom da sagore dodiri do praha
pozari veliki na horizontu
pozar svitanja pozar sumraka pozar ponoci
vatra zauvijek
i dvije male mindjuse od bola
na usima neka ostanu ko plamicak
od svjetla neka se sastavi
slusanje pucketanje
da nestane sve u crvenom sjecanju
vatra zauvijek
i dvije male mindjuse od bola
nad urokom od praha neka se sastave u vjecnost
dodirom neka sagore strascu da se sprze
da nestane sve patnjom satrveno
vatra zauvijek
velika vatra prociscenja
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The night of mine (Nafaka)
like a pale cracking shadow of the Moon, my night
like a thought of an infinity below a starlit arch, my night
like a murmur of distant lonely silences, my night
like a breathing dying out under the pillow of pain, my night
like an evening star trown into a well, my night
like an abyss of heigths being silenced by the bottom, my night
like shivering of hours at the edge of the knife, my night
like windy wings in unspreadness, my night
like a whisper cut off from the quivering lips, my night
like fingers weaving the webs of the reveiled, my night
like a dawn of darkness, my night
kao blijedilo iskricave sjenke Mjeseca
noc moja
kao misao beskraja pod zvjezdanim svodom
noc moja
kao vreva dalekih usamljenih tisina
noc moja
ko minulo disanje pod jastukom od bola
noc moja
kao vecernja zvijezda spustena u bunare
noc moja
kao sunovrat u visine sto ih cuti dno
noc moja
kao treperenje sati na ostrici noza
noc moja
kao klepet leprsavih krila u nesklopljenosti
noc moja
kao sapat otkinut sa uzdrhtalih usana
noc moja
kao prsti koji pletu mreze razotkrivenosti
noc moja
kao svitanje tmine
noc moja
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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This World Is Not Conclusion, By Emily Dickinson
This world is not a matter
A dead transition from an earth into a breath
From a breath into an earth
This world unmeasured by an eye
Is neither a view through a magnifying glass
Nor winking at sense
This world is not a game
Of a small and big intelligence
This world a strange link
Despite the chains
Won't go into a circle
Ovaj svijet nije tvar
Mrtvi prelazak iz zemlje u dah
Iz daha u zenlju
Ovaj svijet okom nesagledan
Nije pogled kroz uvecano staklo
Ni namigivanje smislu
Ovaj svijet nije igra
Male i velike pameti
Ovaj svijet karika cudna
Lancima u inat
Nece u krug
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The speech of the world/Govor svijeta
At sunset when cities dive
into the wells made silent by faces
there begins the creation of the world
The sky of sparkling stars
written by Chaos onto the blackness
the emnrace of the midnight swallows
whatever is made silent by the faces
there begins the longing of the world
The first whispers burning at dawn
beyond the streams of wonder
encaged images are set free
being made silent by faces
within the light
there begins the speech of the world
Govor svijeta
U predvecerja kad gradovi utihnu
u bezdane sto ih je licem cutati
pocinje stvaranje svijeta
nebo rasprslih zvijezda
na crnom ispisuje haos
rasirenih ruku ponoc guta
sto licem je cutati
pocinje teznja svijeta
Zorom usplamtjeli prvi zamori
nad potocima cudjenja
iz kaveza izlaze slike
sto ih je licem cutati
na svjetlosti
pocinje govor svijeta
2007.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Picaro turns her face towards the sun
…chameleon like chiseled in a rock rock chained pours the rainbow colours the silent sky reflections where to think is if I was a tree I would turn my leaves to you so that you can mirror yourself in the streams of written currents if I were a butterfly I would turn my wings to you so that you can wing yourself in warmth from the hands an embrace to you if I had hands I would repeat the digging up of the wells which your light has not as yet reached if I was the light I would be faster than a thought if I had a thought from you I would make it a gift to the face cut in years towards death if I had a face I would not be a picaro of self an unoverstepped hurdle at the threshold of an entrance…I’ve got nothing.
Pikaro okreć e lice ka suncu
...kameleonski uzidan u stijenu stijenom rpikovan preliva dugine boje tihe odraze neba gdje misliti je da sam drvo okrenula bih lice ka tebi da se ogledaš u potocima ispisanog toka da sam leptir okrenula bih krila ka tebi da se raskriliš toplinom od ruku zagrljaj da imam ruke ponovila bih kopanja bunara gdje svjetlost tvoja stigla nije da sam svjetlost bila bih brža od misli da imam misao od tebe poklonila bih je licu što mu godine urezuju smrt da imam lice ne bih bila pikaro sopstva nepreskoč ena prepreka na pragu ulaska...Nemam ništa.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Water or wine?
Let me call you a situation
You came in to tell me
Things happen oh dear
As you were unbuttoning your coat
And taking off your boots
As we sat face to face
Tv screens turned off and on
In a dizzy roomful presence
Amidst the white noise of your closing eyes
Let me call you a situation
You came in to tell me
The subjects escaped your vision
In a politically incorrect manner
Via blasphemy and election pamphlets
Torn off the street posts
As we sat face to face
Tv screens alarms beeped the choices
Of ready made designs
Let me call you a situation
And cast you broad
The way you bargain pain
On the watchability scale
No, I cannot sit and forget
Even though there are some things
I do not remember you know
As we sat face to face
What were we drinking
While the streets were falling apart
Was it water or wine
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The vow of harmony
the vow of harmony is the thought
which arrays the words of craving
it’s the vow of the rain
drumming against the window pane
an even rhythm of the fall
it’s the vow of the wind carrying
the leaves in the murmur of the light
it’s the vow of the sound the music of the soul
climbing in silence so high
Zavjet sklada je misao
Što težnjom optoč i riječ i
zavjet je kiše što dobuje oknom
ujednač en ritam pada
zavjet je vjetra što nosi
lišć e rumorom svjetla
zavjet je zvuka muzika duše
što se tišinom penje
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Quite Subsidiary / Sasvim Pritocno
diary pages i never wrote
due to some unknown individual intuition
a friend once explained to me
which i never really understood
they keep oozing in front of my eyes
a trailer from a movie long forgot
a midsummer's heat
pronounced at the tip of my tongue
that does not remember the language
but is ready to outriver the numbers
sliding down the covers
there's a painting perhaps
that i've never been up to
and i will never paint
a draft made of eyes and ears void
staring right at me from the broken sky
that knows each piece of its shatteredness
foretold by the mirror
i normally use to put lipstick only
or merely draft my eyes so as not to forget them
by the end of the day
and each time my fingers prolong into keyboards
there's a music played unheard humming oou of debris
the world would say it's time for itself to die
in the meaning of each word that's uttered about it
stubbornly defending its unutteredness
that always shakes me into an earthquake speech
and just like an earthquake i cannot stand still
there are too many cracks i made and need to fill
sascim pritocno
stranice dnevnika koje nikad nisam ispisala
zahvaljujuci jednoj individualnoj intuiciji
koju mi je prijatelj jednom objasnio
a nikad je nisam razumjela
cure mi pred ocima
trejler iz filma davno zaboravljenog
Jovanjdanja vrelina
izgovorena na vrhu jezika
koja je zaboravila jezik
ali je spremna da nadrijeci brojeve
što klize niz korice
postoji moždajedna slika
kojoj nikad nisam bila dorasla
koju nikad necu naslikati
slika napravljena od ociju i ušiju jaza
koja me posmatra pravo iz slomljenog neba
koje poznaje svaki komadic svoje polomljenosti
obrecene ogledalom
što ga obicno koristim samo da bih stavila ruž
ili skicirala svoje oci
da ih ne zaboravim do kraja dana
i svaki put kad mi se prsti izduže u klavijature
stvara se necujna muzika što pjevuši iz srce
svijet bi rekao da mu je vrijeme da umre
u znacenju svake rijeci koja je o njemu izrecena
uporno braneci svoju neizrecivost
koja me uvijek protrese u govor zemljotresa
i baš kao zemljotres ne mogu da stojim mirno
ima previše pukotina koje sam stvorila
a moram da ih popunim
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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This is my silence with the taste of ‘never’
A single plunge from the tip of the tongue
Into the clouds anxiety sponges
Burdened with water and wells too mute
Of elements void of translation
A single flame from the tip of the fingers
That once touched the hard locked heart
Within the heights all skies to burn
In elements void of translation
A single stone cast into a cradle
Rocks an embryo crying for a womb
Like a childless lap still eager to fly
In elements void of translation
A single breath signed by an ocean wind
That namelessly carves the gates of open cages
Wrestling with the forbidden language
In elements void of translation
This is my silence with the taste of ‘never’
I give it solely unto you
Ovo je moja tišina sa ukusom 'nikad'
Jedno poniranje sa vrha jezika
U oblake sundere tjeskobe
Pod teretom vode i bunara suviše nijemih
Pod elementima lišenim prevoda
Jedan plamen sa vrhova prstiju
Što jednom je dotakao teško zakljucano srce
U visini da spali sva neba
U elementima lišenim prevoda
Jedan kamen bacen u kolijevku
Ljulja embrion što place za utrobom
Kao krilo bez djeteta što ipak žudi za letom
U elemntima lišenim prevoda
Jedan dah potpisanim okeanskim vjetrom
Što bezimeno urezuje kapije otvorenih kaveza
Rvajuci se sa zabranjenim jezikom
U elemntima lišenim prevoda
Ovo je moja tišina sa ukusom 'nikad'
Dajem je samo tebi
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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With the first of Fridays/Sa prvim petkom
With the first of Fridays
I'll leave the story aside
The story which summnons the days
Under the edges of the sky
I'll spell a verse
Spelling a silence
A passed away meal
In the bitterness of bread
Spelled by the sun
The willows I will reach
With
The embrace of light
The new dawn bathed
Burned by the fire
Come close to the wounds
Leave a dropp ajar
In an endless sea
Bathe in it washed by the drops of hope
The wave of pain touching the face
Birds bathed in an endless flight
Sa prvim petkom
Ostavicu pricu
Što dane zove pod rubove neba
Srociti stih
Kom tišine sricu
Minulim zalogajem
Gorcinu hljeba
Omamljena suncem
Pod jasike stici
Sa
Zagrljajem svjetla
Okupane zore
Spržena vatrom
Ranama prici
Otškrinuti kapljom
Beskrajno more
U njemu umiti kapljama nade
Talasom bola što se mreška lice
Beskrajem leta umivene ptice
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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By a thought threshold
A moment slips to unfaithful sky
The willow is silent
Hypnotized by the river
Kraj praga misli
Nevjernom nebu izmič e tren
Breza ć uti
Rijekom hipnotisana
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Geometry of peace/Geometrija spokoja
Lost in the depths of our silence
There’s a single moment of peace
For which it is a gift to live
It’s turned into point at which
Beauty spelled universe laughs
It’s turned into a point at which
The spirit settles down
The one that governs the waters
Governs the soil and heavens
It’s turned into a monada
At one with the light
Uniquely addressed by love
A particle of life
It craves the lines of space
With which the universe draws
The features hinted at
And an inexpressibility unspotted by an eye
Framework canons harmony depicted
The freedom of mercy and want are faced
It craves the body chiseled in wisdom
Of an eye in love with its sight
The lips in love with their words
An ear in love with its song
The hand awestruck by touch
The feet awestruck by paths
It craves the body chiseled in the rhythm
The lungs breathing heartbeat
The blood streaming ebbs in each drop
And the cords of a universal voicing
Of the first ‘Here I am’ tenderly
Endlessly addressed with ‘Thou,
A perfectly painted icon of life eternal
Return into Me, into the Word.’
Geometrija spokoja
Izgubljen u našim dubinama ć utnje
Raduje se tren tihog spokoja
Za koji je blagodatno živjeti
On postaje tač ka u kojoj smije se
Ljepotom ozarena vasiona
On postaje tač ka u kojoj smiruje se
Duh što nad vodama kopnom nebesima vlada
On postaje monada sa svjetlošć u jedno
Jedinstveno ljubavlju oslovljena č estica života
On žudi za linijama prostora
Kojim svemit išč itava obrise nasluć ene
A onom nesagledane neizrecivosti
U sferama sklada oivič en kanon
Gdje sreć u se sloboda milosti i htijenja
On žudi za tijelom klesanim u mudrosti
Oka što voli svoj vid
Usne što voli svoju riječ
Uha što voli svoju pjesmu
Ruke što se č udi dodirivanju
I stopa što se č ude drumovima
On žudi za tijelom klesanim u ritmu
Pluć a što dišu dobovanjem srca
Krvi što bruji tok u svakoj kapi
I žica sveopšteg oglašavanja
Sa prvim 'Tu sam' nježnošć u
Neizmjerno solovljen sa 'Ti
Savršeno oslikana ikono života vječ nog
U Mene se vrati, u Riječ .'
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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O tebi
O tebi ne govorim ljudima jer shvatili ne bi
O tebi govorim
Tek listu kad lomno padne na tlo
Sumraku kad te razlije u boje
I rubu ponornog sjećanja mog
Tek tmini kada progovori glasno
Suzu prolomljenu u dnu crnog oka
Što kanuti neće nikad
Tek vratima odškrinutim i odjeku koraka
Zalutalim pragovima što kuće svoje traže
Otkucaju srca i posljednjom mrežom
Zahvaćenu vodu što kroz konope
Nazad u izvor lije
O tebi ljepoto moja
Ne govorim ni tebi
Jer čak ni ti shvatio ne bi
Da s površine riječi ništa se ne kreće
I ništa u dubine vratiti se neće
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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An Alpha Light
The whirl and pain from beneath the sky
Now taken and healed and never denied
Loved bloom cherished all souls broken free
Smiled at the clouds a farewell ‘remember me’
Moving around the treestop’s aureole
An eagle circled mountain air laps
Shadowed cloudward flight filling all
Sky spelled letters to fill in the gaps
Alphabets stood scattered
In scrypts of an eagle flight
And it no longer mattered
All sucked in an alpha light
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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…da Tek Si Pjesnik
Spram riječi nag
Proljeća vjesnik
Spram stope trag
Zeleno sliven u jedan stih
Da jesen zna ljubav ti bih
Što grli grumen
Zemljani prah
Kroz sunčan rumen
Vrelog ljeta dah
Da diše promrzle usnule zime
I nikad ne takne od leda ti ime
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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