Moje misli tvoje misli
Isprepletene
Moje tvoje misli
Nedorečene
Moje tvoje misli
Samo puke sjene
Misle svoje misli
Bez tebe i mene
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Moje Ruke
moje ruke ćute
tvoje ruke govore
moje usne stežu riječi
tvoje ruke grče ćutnju
moje oči sklap i znak
tvoje ruke dlan i mrak
moje tijelo kaže
sviće dan
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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The child removes the sky and earth
The child pushes the borders of the possible
The child sees the sky
The child sees the earth
The child is thinking I am made of the sky
The child removes the sky
The way the mother peels the apple
The child sees the earth below
The child is thinking I am made of earth
The child removes the earth
The way the father digs the foundations
The child sees the fire below
The child is thinking I am made of fire
The child removes the fire
The child is thinking I am made of nothing
Lit by fire
Dressed in earth
Covered by the sky
Dijete sklanja nebo i zemlju
Dijete pomjera granice moguć eg
Dijete vidi nebo
Dijete vidi zemlju
Dijete misli od neba sam
Dijete sklanja nebo
Kao što majka ljušti jabuku
Dijete vidi zemlju ispod
Dijete misli od zemlje sam
Dijete sklanja zemlju
Kao kad otac kopa temelje
Dijete vidi vatru ispod
Dijete misli od vatre sam
Dijete sklanja vatru
Dijete misli od nič eg sam
Vatrom zapaljen
Zemljom obuč en
Nebom pokriven
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You Don’t Need A Golden Leaf/Ne Treba Ti Zlatni List
To measure the depth of an autumn heart
When stone frozen you stand
Doing all the meditations of life
In stead of just living
When stuck in those harmless concepts
You do the tender death’s task
Make sure it never comes
To remind you of life a-void
Created in a self crater
Of your thought solely self defined
Ne treba to zlatni list
Da izmjeriš jednog jesenjeg srca
Kad kameno zaledjen stojiš
Odradjujuci sve meditacije o životu
Umjesto da naprosto živis
Kad zaglavljen u onim bezazlenim konceptima
Obavljaš zadatak nježne smrti
Pobrini se da se ne vrati
Da te podsjeti na život iz-bjeg
Stvoren u krateru sopstva
Tvoje misli iskljucivo sobom odredene
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The first drop-Prva kap
the first dropp will touch your lips
the first break of dawn will touch your brow
the first open arms will call you into an embrace
the first open eyelids will open up my windows
letting the day come in
prva kap pašće na tvoje usne
prvi zrak svitanja dotaći ti čelo
prvo otvaranje oka pozvaće te u zagrljaj
prvo otvaranje kapaka otvroiće moje prozore
da unutra uđe dan
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Come in and meet my friend-Udi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
come in and meet my friend
he's got eyes of different colours
one eye is blue the other is like honey
he's got a scar somewhere beneath his heart
and the wound under the heart a bitter snake of a dream
he's got a coat and a hat on his head
the coat with two facets and the hat full of thoughts
come in and meet my friend
he knows the names of the rivers and the limits of the globe
and the salt stolen from the bottom of the sea
he knows the ribs of rocks and the whisper from the cliff
and the words hiding under the whisper
he knows all the streets all the houses at twilight
their numbers and addresses through the mother's bloodline
come in and meet my friend
he rides his thoughts like bicycles
up the hills down the slopes by the rivers and lakes
he drives his thoughts like many coloured trains
their vibrant call is layered on the rails
he leads his thoughts like caravans
so that the hot deserts don't die without water
come in and meet my friend
he loves the tramps the clowns and acrobats
the circles of fire and the walk on the wire
he loves the travellers and their suitcases
filled with memories of a step to the goal
he loves the drunkards the beggars the lost and the forgotten
who give their handful of love to the mute world
come in and meet my friend
he thinks your thoughts when you're alone
so that everyone can be there within your solitude
he thinks the thoughts of the sky when all the suns fade out
he steals a grain of gold from the sunshine ray
he thinks the thoughts of earth when the waters dry out
and feeds their springs with gratitude to the last of drops
come in and meet my friend
he'll make you a tea from a plant
that with its root kisses the edge of its bud
he'll make you a meal from its bread
whose crust survived the thunderstrike
he'll make you a bed by the window
so that you can watch the bird and its flight at twilight
come in and meet my friend
he holds his days from the first to the last
he removes the webs of hours from your sight
he holds his treasures under the pillow of light
and the light from that pillow warms your dreams
he keeps his shoes at the threshold of each entrance
so that your step never fades so that you can learn the path
come in and meet my friend
he's got eyes of different colours
one eye is blue the other is like honey
he's got a scar somewhere beneath his heart
and the wound under the heart a bitter snake of a dream
he's got a coat and a hat on his head
the coat with two facets and the hat full of thoughts
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on ima oči različitih boja
jedno oko plavo drugo kao med
on ima ožiljak nedgje ispod srca
i ranu pod ožiljkom ljutu guju sna
on ima kaput i šešir na glavi
kaput sa dva lica i šešir pun misli
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on zna imena rijeka granice globusa
i sa morskog dna ukradenu so
on zna rubove stijena šapat sa litice
i riječi što takav šapat ih krije
on zna sve ulice sve kuće u sumrak
i njihove brojeve adrese po majci
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on vozi svoje misli kao bicikl
uz brda niz padine kraj rijeka i jezera
on vozi svoje misli k'o šarene vozove
po šinama pjeva njihov zvonki zov
on vozi svoje misli kao karavane
da pustinje vrele ne umru bez vode
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on voli skitnice klovnove akrobate
vatrene obruče i hod po žici
on voli putnike i njihove kofere
prepune sjećanja na korak do cilja
on voli pijanice prosjake izgubljene zaboravljene
što pregršt svoje ljubavi daju nijemom svijetu
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on misli tvoje misli kad sasvim si sam
da ti u samoći baš svi budu tu
on misli misli neba kad sva sunca zgasnu
i sitno zrno zlata sa zrake mu krade
on misli misli zemlje kad sve vode presahnu
i poji hvalom izvore do posljednje kapi
uđi i upoznaj mog prijatelja
on će ti spremiti čaj od biljke jedne
što korijenom ljubi rub od svoga cvijeta
on će ti spremiti jelo od svog hljeba
što mu je zalogaj preživio grom
on će ti spremiti postelju kraj prozora
da u suton gledaš pticu i njen let
uđi i upoznaj mog prijetalja
on drži svoje dane od prvog do posljednjeg
i koprene sati skida sa tvog vida
on drži svoja blaga pod jastukom svjetla
da svjetlo s tog jastuka ugrije ti san
on drži svoje cipele na pragu svakog ulaska
da ti korak ne zamre i da poznaš put
uđi upoznaj mog prijatelja
on ima oči različitih boja
jedno oko plavo drugo kao med
on ima ožiljak nedgje ispod srca
i ranu pod ožiljkom ljutu guju sna
on ima kaput i šešir na glavi
kaput sa dva lica i šešir pun misli
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Boka - ulazak
moji su bili talasi stijene
struje i virovi pjevanja vode
i jedan zaliv gdje ponocne sjene
s prvim svitanjem u nepovrat hode
moji su bili tek u slutnji jednoj
mirisi šuma bešimje bilja
kraj izvora želji ostavih žednoj
da traga bez traga i cilja
zlacane niti moje su bile
sred pustih polja udahnut san
dubine mora ribe su pile
u mreže ribari krotili dan
i sve to moje iz narucja zore
pložih na pragove jutra
dodirnuh kaplju odškrinuh more
i tiho krocih unutra
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The tree I am/ Ja sam drvo
The tree I am
Sideroad’s heart
My words in leaves
They touch the ground
The river I am
A beat in veins
My words in a drop
A swallowed water
The cloud I am
A written sky
Quote me not
The night is eavesdropping
Ja sam drvo
Srce krajputaša
Moje riječ i u lišć u
Dotič u tlo
Ja sam rijeka
U venama dodir
Moje riječ i u kapi
Progutana voda
Ja sam oblak
Ispisano nebo
Ne citiraj me
Prisluškuje noć
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Svitanje vjencava bat sanjanih koraka
svitanje vjenčava bat sanjanih koraka
sa tminom što dobuje tiho kraj uha
ono stapa svjetlost i vrelinu mraka
i šapat tad postaje naušnica sluha
i ruke tad postaju šareni leptiri
sa bjeline jastuka tiho budjeni
prste pomijeraju duboki nemiri
svakom znani dati svakome suđeni
nekom se kapci teški otvaraju
zjena misli pogled samo nemir biva
a u dnu sveg vida tmine se odmaraju
i u dnu sveg nemira tišina sniva
1995-2012
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Face Of Pain/Lice Bola
Your face made of а flower
Leaning on a fragile petal
It’s calling in a voice of solitude
The root thirst for shining
Your breathing in faded leaves
Trodden broken
Mere branches of breath
You’re floating with the clouds
Like a pain buried below deception
Your hands in twilight
A shattered embrace
A deflowered touch
Your cheek
A scar
Tvoje lice od cvijeta
Na krhku peteljku oslonjeno
Zove glasom osame
Korijen žedan sjaja
Tvoje disanje u svelom lišć u
Ogaženo lomljivo
Tek granč ica daha
Plutala si oblakom
Ko bol sahranjen pod obmanom
Tvoje ruke u sumraku
Slomljen zagrljaj
Obešč ašć eni dodir
Tvoj obraz
Ožiljak
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Zdravo, Moje Ime Je Sara
Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.
Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.
Ona hodaju nepostojecim ulicama
kojima gaze jos samo prividi staza.
Silaze u bunare
da u njima udave
proplivalu nadu za kraj.
Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja bi htjela.
Ovo je vrat za vase ruke.
Dotaknite lagano.
Vezan je hiljadama lancica
koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
Ona jedu halapljivo,
krugove u koje sazimam snove
dozvoljavam da dira.
Neka je.
Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ovo je kosa za moje pletenice.
U njima trake od srebra
i bisere sjajne sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam. Neka ih.
Prekrsila sam sva pravila.
Razbila klise,
zacarane krugove,
pocijepala stranice
na kojima mi ispisuju sudbinu.
Ja sam Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam.
Ja sam ona koja uvijek
samo pokusavam da budem.
Ja sam ona koja hoce.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ja sam uvijek,
vjecnoscu stegnuta
u sipljive trenutke. Ja sam nada
umrla za kraj.
Ja sam ona koja hoce da razumije.
Ja sam ona koja ne razumije uvijek.
Ali JESAM.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Quote Me Not/Ne Citiraj Me
The tree I am
Sideroad’s heart
My words in leaves
They touch the ground
The river I am
A beat in veins
My words in a drop
A swallowed water
The cloud I am
A written sky
Quote me not
The night is eavesdropping
Ja sam drvo
Srce krajputaša
Moje riječ i u lišć u
Dotič u tlo
Ja sam rijeka
U venama dodir
Moje riječ i u kapi
Progutana voda
Ja sam oblak
Ispisano nebo
Ne citiraj me
Prisluškuje noć
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've got/Ja imam
I've got time my friend
when everybody else thinks
I've got hours
think I've got minutes
think I've got seconds
think I've got clocks
think I've got watches
all I've got are
changes
I ja imam vrijeme prijatelju
kad svak drugi misli
da imam sate
imam minute
imam sekunde
satove zidne
satove zglobne
sve sto imam
su promjene
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Water traces-Vodeni spomenik
Like a curtain of rain
That the hand will never
Be able to move it away
Not even when the eye opens up a drop
Like pools full of thoughts
Dissolving amidst the fall
A sound of the first thunder
Removed from the cloud
With the lightning the fire in hand
The thought dying alone on the breath
Our breathing it breathes
The islands are painting the waters
The waters are painting the skies
The skies are painting out faces
Are we just- the water traces
Vodeni spomenik
Kao zavjesa od kiše
Što ruka je nikad
S prozora skloniti neće
Čak ni kada oko otvori kapi
Kao bazen prepun misli
Što se rastvara sred pada
S oblaka smaknut zvuk prvog groma
S munjom s vatrom u ruci
Hladna kiša prži mi dah
Na dahu riječ obamrla sama
Našim disanjem diše
Ostrva slikaju vode
Vode slikaju neba
Neba nam slikaju lik
Da li smo samo-vodeni spomenik?
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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You are an inner sense/Ti si unutrasnje culo
You are an inner sense
that makes everything else disappear
the sign written upon my brow
cannot be placed under fingertips
the touches killed will grow again
in spring out of ground
the fruits of death picked up
dropp the living wounds into young graves
so the grains can cry out your name in tears
elevated by death into heaven
like these dresses of mine lifted by storm
thrown into the clouds
like these dresses of mine by thunder
piled up in rags I am piled into a song
like these dresses of mine burned by lightening
You are a inner sense
That makes everything else disappear
A diamond cutting my dreams
A saphire for the sky to paint
A ruby with which I open the blood
The gold in which I turn the sunflower
The silver in which I throw stars into the night
You are an inner sense
That makes everything else disappear
Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve
Na celu ispisan znak
Ne moze stati pod jagodice
Ubijeni dodiri izniknuce
S proljecem iz zemlje
Ubrani plodovi smrti
U mlade gromove zive rane spusti
Da prplace grumenje ime tvoje
Smrcu u nebesa noseno
Ko halje moje olujom
U oblake bacene
Ko halje moje gromom
U pjesmu zguzvana stacu ko krpa
Ko halje moje munjom sprzene
Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve
Dijamant kojim sjecem snove
Safir kojim bojim nebo
Rubin kojim otvaram krv
Zlato u kome okrecem suncokret
Srebro kojim zvijezde bacam u noc
Ti si unutrasnje culo
Od koga nestaje sve
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My Name Is Moonlight
And these stars they are the children of my kiss
They burn the light of my hiding place
They twinkle the shine of my disappearance
My name is the path of Earth
Galaxy chosen spot of love
Fed by heaven’s milk my place of origin
Each dropp a trae of my disappearance
My name is the Sun light
A moment buried in the sundial
It runs gold arrayed time
Eternity carried a waiting away
Moje ime je Mjeseč ev sjaj
A zvjezde su ove djeca mog poljupca
Ona gore svjetlost mog skrovista
Ona sjaje mog nestanka trag
Moje ime je Zemljin put
Galaksijama birana tač ka ljubavi
Mlijekom neba hranjena postojbina moja
Svaka je kap mog nestanka trag
Moje ime je sunč eva svjetlost
U pješč anom satu zakopan tren
On teč e zlatom optoč eno vrijeme
Od č ekanja vječ nošć u nošen
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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We made them dance
This is how I made you
I took the fibres of black
Spread the twinkling of my heart
Across your body
To make the most beautiful night in the world
I spinned it round and round
Made it dance the river dance
Made it dance the morning dance
Made it dance the evening dance
I made it dance
This is how you made me
You took the fibres of red
Spread the beating of your blood
Across my body
To make the most beautiful love in the world
You spinned it round and round
Made it dance the dance of your seed
Made it dance the dance of your touch
Made it dance the dance of your breath
You made it dance
That's why
The eagle was flying
The sea was foaming
The ground was singing
Children were laughing
Fires were burning
Across the hearths
We made them dance
Ovako sam te stvorila
Uzeh tkanice crnog
I prosuh treptaje svog srca niz tvoje tijelo
Da stvorim najljepšu noc ovoga svijeta
Zavrtjeh je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples rijeke
Da pleše ples jutra
Da pleše ples veceri
Da pleše
Ovako si me stvorio
Uze tkanice crvenog
Prosu otkucaj svoje krvi niz moje tijelo
Da stvoriš najljepšu ljubav ovoga svijeta
Zavrtio je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples tvog sjemena
Da pleše ples tvog dodira
Da pleše ples tvog daha
Da pleše
I zato je
Orao letio
More se pjenilo
Zemlja je pjevala
Djeca se smijala
I vatre ognjištem gorjele
Oni su plesali zbog nas
2010. (We made them dance)
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Ces sont mais maisons
La bas je habit
L oiseau amoureux a dit
Il est plus tard de dire la porte
Mais la clef est prise
Si tu veux entrer
Dis mois quand
Je peux ton ailes ouvrir
Those are my houses
That’s where I live
The bird in love has said
It is too late to say the door
But the key has been taken
If you want to come in
Tell me when you want
Me to unlock your wings
Ono su moje kuć e
Tamo ja živim
Reč e zaljubljena ptica
Suviše je kasno da kažem vrata
Ali je ključ kod mene
Reci mi kad budem mogla
Da ti otključ am krila
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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