Chrone
Chrone
A big watchmaker
Clocked endlessness
Within the circle of his own limits
Chrone
A big watchmaker
Never sharpened his own hands
Chrone
A big watchmaker
Repeatedly cleaned
His own mechanisms
Chrone
A big watchmaker
Stood at the entrance
Self-determined
Self-encaged
Hron
Veliki casovnicar
Otkucavao je beskraj
U krugu svojih granica
Hron
Velki casovnicar
Nikada nije ostrio
Svoje kazaljke
Hron
Veliki casovnicar
Stajao je na ulazu
Samim sobom omedjen
Samim sobom odredjen
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
Crone/Hron
Crone
A big watchmaker
Clocked endlessness
Within the circle of his own limits
Crone
A big watchmaker
Never sharpened his own hands
Crone
A big watchmaker
Repeatedly cleaned
His own mechanisms
Crone
A big watchmaker
Stood at the entrance
Self-determined
Self-encaged
Hron
Veliki casovnicar
Otkucavao je beskraj
U krugu svojih granica
Hron
Velki casovnicar
Nikada nije ostrio
Svoje kazaljke
Hron
Veliki casovnicar
Stajao je na ulazu
Samim sobom omedjen
Samim sobom odredjen
2009.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Like a night without a day/Kao noc bez dana
Like a night without a day
Like a shadow of time
Cut with a momentous blade
There wanders the breath
Like a bud without a flower
The curse upon Vesna thrown
The whirls of dust
The circles of the world
Spinned by Chrone
Crownless dethroned throne
Kao noc bez dana
Ko sjena vremena
Na oštrici trena zaklana
Luta luta dah
Ko pupolj bez cvijeta
Nad Vesnom bacena kletva
Vrtložni prah
Krugove svemira okrece Hron
Sa krune svijeta svrgnut tron
2011.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A boy And Watchmaker
This watch my father did on me bestow,
A golden one it is, but 'twill not go,
Unless it be at an uncertainty:
But as good none as one to tell a lie.
When 'tis high day my hand will stand at nine;
I think there's no man's watch so bad as mine.
Sometimes 'tis sullen, 'twill not go at all,
And yet 'twas never broke nor had a fall.
Watchmaker.
Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill
May fail to do according to your will.
Suppose the balance, wheels, and springs be good,
And all things else, unless you understood
To manage it, as watches ought to be,
Your watch will still be at uncertainty.
Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dust,
Yea, wind it also duly up you must?
Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring;
You must be circumspect in every thing,
Or else your watch, were it as good again,
Would not with time and tide you entertain.
Comparison.
This boy an emblem is of a convert,
His watch of the work of grace within his heart,
The watchmaker is Jesus Christ our Lord,
His counsel, the directions of his Word;
Then convert, if thy heart be out of frame,
Of this watchmaker learn to mend the same.
Do not lay ope' thy heart to worldly dust,
Nor let thy graces over-grow with rust,
Be oft' renewed in the' spirit of thy mind,
Or else uncertain thou thy watch wilt find.
poem by John Bunyan
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Take Years
And put them
Unto the hand of Chrone
Measure their insides
Count them down
Let them be light
Live long
Run free
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The world embarrasses me, and I cannot dream that this watch exists and has no watchmaker.
Between the amateur and the professional... there is a difference not only in degree but in kind. The skillful man is, within the function of his skill, a different psychological organization... A tennis player or a watchmaker or an airplane pilot is an automatism but he is also criticism and wisdom.
quote by Bernard De Voto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a downfallen rose
When I laid aside the verses of Mimnermus,
I lived a life of canned heat and raw hands,
alone, not far from my body did I wander,
walked with a hope of a sudden dreamy forest of gold.
O rose, downfallen, bend your huge vegetic back;
eye down the imposter sun...in winter dream
sulk your rosefamed head into the bile of golden giant,
ah, rose, augment the rose further still!
whence upon that self-created dive in Eden
you blossomed where the Watchmaker of Nothingness
lulled,
your birth did cause bits of smashed night to pop,
causing my dreamy forest to unfold.
Yes, and the Watchmaker, his wheely-flesh
and jewelled-bones spoiled as he awoke,
and in the face of your Somethingness, he fled
waving oblivious monks in his unwinded hands.
The sun cannot see upheaved spatics, the tennis of Venus
and the court of Mars sing the big lie of the sun,
ah, faraway ball of fur, sponge up the elements;
make clear the trees and the mountains of the earth,
arise and turn away from the vast fixedness.
Rose! Rose! my tinhorneared rose!
Rose is my visionic eyehand of all Mysticdom
Rose is my wise chair of bombed houses
Rose is my patient electric eyes, eyes, eyes, eyes,
Rose is my festive jowl,
Dali Lama Grand Vicar Glorious Caesar rose!
When I hear the rose scream
I gather all the failure experiments of an anatomical empire
and, with some chemical dream, discover
the hateful law of the earth and sun, and the screaming
rose between.
poem by Gregory Corso
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I Understood Your Question
Thinking of todays' poets.
And their approach and quality.
Who among them would you choose,
As your favorites.
'Hmmm...
Paul Bunyan comes to mind.
I enjoy the Wright Brothers.
Benjamin Banneker was brilliant.
Did you know he was also a watchmaker too?
And that's not to take anything away,
From Thomas Edison.
He put the 'gee' in genius.'
You did not name one of today's poets.
In fact...
You did not name one poet.
'I know that.
And guess what?
I understood your question.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Cyclic dance of the entrance (Nafaka)
a silk made fabric beyond the arch
like a scarf made of stars
the smell of the snow through October and the wind
the street I live in smells of bad perfume
the house I live carries a damp smell
the treetops my birds live in
shoke all of their nests
will there remain any trace
the graves will sing the way the cradles can?
a silk made fabric beyond the arch
like a scarf made of stars
will be torn by night?
the moon will start dancing beyond the arch
the dance of love and hate
pain and bliss
cyclic dance of the entrance
nad svodom tkanina svilena
ko marama satkana od zvijezda
brise pred sobom
miris snijega kroz oktobar i vjetar
brise pred sobom
ulicu u kojoj zivim mirise na lose parfeme
brise pred sobom
kucu u kojoj stanujem mirise na memle
krosnje u kojima stanuju moje ptice
stresle su sva gnijezda
dali ce ostati tragovi
dali ce propjevati grobovi
kao sto placu kolijevke
nad svodom tkanina svilena
ko marama satkana od zvijezda
pocijepace je noc
nad svodom vec zaigra Mjesec
vjecnu igru ljubavi i mrznje
radosti i bola
ciklicni ples ulaska
vjecnu dramu ulaska
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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And Through The Wire
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
Its through the wire
Friday night, youre staying at home I want you
Im tickling and clicking a metronome I want you
Prowling the waterhole-i wait for the kill I want you
Pressures building-overspill I want you
And through the wire you are secure
And through the wire we can talk
And through the wire we can walk
Its through the wire
Watchmaker steadies his delicate hand I want you
For barbeque parties on blood red sands I want you
Caught in the strugle tight on the rod I want you
Bring out the devil to bring out the God I want you
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
Its through the wire
Driving round the city rings
Staring at the shape of things
I talk in pictures not in words
Overloaded with everything we said
Be careful where you tread
Watch the wire
And through the wire you are secure
And through the wire we can talk
And through the wire we can walk
And through the wire were clinging like leeches
And through the wire we push out tailormade speeches
And through the wire we get so strange across the border
We get so strange across the border
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Start
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
It's through the wire
Friday night, you're staying at home I want you
I'm tickling and clicking a metronome I want you
Prowling the waterhole-I wait for the kill I want you
Pressure's building-overspill I want you
And through the wire You are secure
And through the wire We can talk
And through the wire We can walk
It's through the wire
Watchmaker steadies his delicate hand I want you
For barbecue parties on blood red sands I want you
Caught in the struggle tight on the rod I want you
Bring out the devil to bring out the god I want you
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
It's through the wire
Driving 'round the city rings
Staring at the shape of things
I talk in pictures not in words
Overloaded with everything we said
be careful where you tread
Watch the wire
And through the wire You are secure
And through the wire We can talk
And through the wire We can walk
And through the wire We're clinging like leeches
And through the wire We push out tailor-made speeches
And through the wire We get so strange across the border
We get so strange across the border
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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... & Through The Wire
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
Its through the wire
Friday night, youre staying at home I want you
Im tickling and clicking a metronome I want you
Prowling the waterhole-i wait for the kill I want you
Pressures building-overspill I want you
And through the wire you are secure
And through the wire we can talk
And through the wire we can walk
Its through the wire
Watchmaker steadies his delicate hand I want you
For barbeque parties on blood red sands I want you
Caught in the struggle tight on the rod I want you
Bring out the devil to bring out the God I want you
And through the wire I hear your voice
And through the wire I touch the power
And through the wire I see your face
Its through the wire
Driving round the city rings
Staring at the shape of things
I talk in pictures not in words
Overloaded with everything we said
Be careful where you tread
Watch the wire
And through the wire you are secure
And through the wire we can talk
And through the wire we can walk
And through the wire were clinging like leeches
And through the wire we push out tailormade speeches
And through the wire we get so strange across the border
We get so strange across the border
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soul's Soliloquy
It’s said that universal single mind,
as in a flash it flowers in our individual mind,
hastens first in two directions: polar opposites,
and then and thus, duality..
then, within these mighty parameters,
all that we call our mind –
all our imagination, and its limits self-imposed,
all the great adventure of our human thought –
watchmaker’s intricacy, tumble-dryer, roller-coaster,
battleground of warring factions –
all that we call our mind..
and thus from time to time, one concept which I throw
into this zoo, my mind, at feeding-time –
suppose the Hindu view correct – or at least,
worth any animal’s good chew –
that our most inward part, call it
the soul or what you will, is on
an almost ageless learning curve of many lives:
each life as homework set by shrewd examiners
of the last life’s papers; homework set to test
this candid candidate: we know your strengths,
let’s now work upon your weaknesses…
and let’s see, which family
would best suit you, get you going
one way or another…turn you out
a better-rounded personality…
If this is so – and personally, I like
the divine symmetry of this tiger
in the night of destiny – I wonder why
I should have no inkling of those past and future
friends, so intimate – my past and future soul:
to say to one, you, my elder brother,
are you proud of me? Have I upheld
our family’s just pride?
and you, my younger brother –
or should I call you, son? I bequeath to you
the best I’ve got to leave you with…
some things you’ll need, I may have quite forgot;
for that, I’m sorry; but here, take my loving wishes,
have yourself a great, great time…
you’ll never know, I’ll never know, perhaps
how much we three love one another..
or, perhaps, we shall..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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It is not good for a man to be too cognizant of his physical and spiritual mechanisms. Complete knowledge reveals limits to human possibilities, and the less a man is by nature limited in his purposes, the less he can tolerate limits.
Stanislaw Lem in Fiasco (1986)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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They Once Said
He said, all that glitters is not gold.
He once said, in the depths of winter
He finally learned that within him
There lay an invincible summer.
He wrote, you purchase pain with all that joy can give
And die of nothing but a rage to live.
He once said, he who does not forgive
Burns a bridge he too must someday cross.
He once said, forgiveness is the fragrance
A violet sheds on the heel that crushed it.
He said, love your neighbour as yourself.
He wearily said, all is vanity.
He defined a fool, as he who said
In his heart that there is no God.
He once said, what lies behind us
And what lies before us, is nothing Compared to what lies within us.
He strongly advised that
Talent is God given, be humble.
Fame is man given, be grateful.
Conceit is self given, be careful.
He observed life under the sun and shared that
The race is not to the swift
Nor the battle to the strong
Neither yet bread to the wise
Nor yet riches to men of understanding
Nor yet favour to men of skill;
But that time and chance happens
to them all.
He once said never judge a book by its cover.
He once said that health is wealth.
He once said, you are not what you think you are
But what you think, you are.
The watchmaker promised, time heals all wounds
He said, time which sees all, reveals all
He taught that ambition is the path to success
Persistence is the vehicle you
arrive in.
He said, everything has been said
before
But since nobody listens we have to keep going back
And beginning all over again.
He summed up everything he'd learned about life in three words
It goes on...
And so life went on and poured us out
And we heard these things
Stood at the crossroads of highroads and lowroads
And chose no road, doing as each saw wise
In his infinitely minute wisdom
We judged every book we saw by its cover
And assumed every glittering glass was gold
And said there was no God
And were swift and smart and sharp
And ran as fast as a thunderbolt into the skies
The fulfilled every vanity
And knowing time sees us, have secrets still
And when time reveals them, hide in shame still
And though having health freely
Sought wealth and when gotten
Spent wealth on appeasing health to come back
And refused to smell the flowers
But filled our rooms with synthesized fresheners
And bought pain with all that joy was selling
And crushed the violet and polluted its fragrance
And demanded instant noodles with an instant life
And left all that lied within us dead
While searching for what lay ahead
And holding onto memories gone
And hated our neighbours
Or obsessed over our looks
Never caring for anyone but the mirror's reflection
We replay the ancient drama of man's folly
And die of nothing but a rage to do it right.
...They once said...you once heard...
Heed.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
I zaronimo u geometriju oštrih slijepih uglova
Što žive svoje živote izmedu dva sna
Milimetri snage mogu se istopiti
U mapama i stazama
Muzejima na raskršcu
U semaforima što bespomocno trepcu
Kad želje bilborduju staze do pakla
U slike obmane grube zabave za posjetioce što kažu
Mi smo sad fini pristojni ljudi
Više ne gledamo kako mecka igra
Probadana žaracem
Jer smo saznali bol njenog makabra
Ali ipak smo stavili rukavice
Otišli do njenog Zoo vrta
Tražeci da nam da intervju
Iako nikad ni rijec nije rekla
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Ispisuje se jedan aforizam bola
Što hrani se na kraju redova
I stiska adresu remek djelo
On pulsira 'mjesta molim mjesta da pokucam
Bez imena mrtva ste ulica
Došao sam da zaplacem kraj zvona na vratima
Što zvoni spram putujeceg prodavca snova
Što došao je samo da pozdravi majku
Jer danas ne prodaje ništa
Cak ni Boga za mjesecni prihod
Nijedan recept za srecniji život
Danas je došao da pita spavace sobe na spratu
O malom djecaku što mokrio je u krevet
I skrivao svoje košmare pod dušek
I matrici dizajniranoj što živi u kutiji za igracke
Medu jednonogim olovnim vojnicima
Kraj lutke djevojcice sa šibicama
Obešcašcene pod Božicnom jelkom'
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Vozovi stanu zanijemili na šinama
Slijepi se putnici iskrcavaju peroni pucaju
Trgovi se crvene od paradajz revolucija
Što flertuju sa metaforama krvi
Bare podojene majkom hrabrošcu
Isparavaju u sušama južnih zraka
I vracaju se sa rodama što ne radaju djecu
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Zidovi stružu svoju farbu suzno tražeci
Boju necijih ociju u svakoj zidanost da udave
I apokalipticno kripticni grafiti
Pomjeraju kaldrmisane ulice
I svi tramvaji nazvani po tockovima vremena
Pomjeraju beskrajne gradove u svemiru
Što oplakuju avionske nesrece
Kad rukama isprepletanim gradimo mreže velegrada
Kao pauci sobom izjedeni što pletu
Tragove sopstvene pljuvacke da bi uredno bili usisani
U danima kad stanodavac ima vremena da ocisti prašinu
Naucimo da ulice mijenjaju imena
Onako kako zmije mijenjaju košuljice
Ali nikada nacin vijuganja
Naucimo da postoje hiljade bezimenih heroja
Koji sklupcani na uglovima prose mjesto
Gdje ulice nece imati imena
Koji nikad nisu zaradili ulicu što ce se po njima zvati
Zahvaljujuci nekom istoricaru što silovao je tekst u fusnotama
I oprao ruke krivice nad zlocinom
Što ulice pokrece da kruže
Što uglove pokrece do sljepila
Sa vlasnikom podataka bez vizije
Što umace svoje pero u bare onoga
Što treba da bude znacajno sjecanje
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Eyes/Oci
Like night butterflies spreading the wings
In the dance of light peaceful dark spread
Like the rhythm of rivers the water pulse
Opens the drо ps and the light beat shed
Unlocks the eyelids unlocks the windows
For a blink of light to raise a throne
When houses closed before the waking dawns
In wings eternal stopped by Chrone
О ч и
К о н о ћ н и л е п т и р и ш т о л е п е т о м к р и л а
У п л е с у с в ј е т л а м и р н и р а с к р и љ у ј у м р а к
К о р и т а м с в и х р и ј е к а в о д е н о г б и л а
О т в о р и к а п и о т к у ц а ј л а к
О т к љ у ч а к а п к е о т к љ у ч а п р о з о р е
Д а т р е п т а ј у с в ј е т л а п о д и г н у т р о н
К а д к у ћ е с к л о п љ е н е п р е д б у д н е з о р е
У к р и л у в ј е ч н о г з а у с т а в и Х р о н
©М и р о с л а в а О д а л о в и ћ
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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A dropp of ocean
...will never learn the hands that have swum it
unless it is taught tears to cry
kap okeana nikada nece nauciti ruke koje su ga preplivale
osim ako ga ne naucimo da place
C circle Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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