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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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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She Wants A Sky/Ona Hoce Nebo
That sky where there is the sky
Unchained
Unlimited by the borders of the sky
She wants the face with a smile
And the hair unsigned by ash
And the bones that do not testify
The pain of an unslept night
Ona hoć e nebo
Ono nebo gdje ima neba
Raskovanog
Granicom neba nesputanog
Ona hoć e lice sa osmjehom
I kosu nepotpisanu pepelom
I kosti koje ne svjedoč e
O bolu neprospavane noć i
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Kraj Istera poj
U plavoj kući vrtova kobi
Pčela je pronašla cvijet
Da tiho zgasne u zloj dobi
Kad žaokom probode svijet
U bijeloj kući vrtova smrti
Ptica je pronašla let
Da žilom krvi život zavrti
Krilima dotakne svijet
U zelenoj kući proljeća znak
Obujmi ulujni oblak tmast
Morana pruži svoj grozni krak
I zgasnu stari zapis hrast
Trinaest tmina kraj njega prođe
Šapatom sedmim uginu let
I treće jutro medonosno dodje
Da žaokom probode svijet
I ono nad Isterom nebo plavo živo
Gdje takoh se skuta njegovoga
Gdje plakah hristočežnjivo
Toplo je toplo u naručju Boga
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Where I have ceased/Tamo gdje sam stala
Where I have ceased the morning will move on
I'll recognise the down by the drops of rain
I want to watch the sun as if it were the first time
I want to watch the sky as if it were the last
Where I have ceased the waters will move away
The thought of a dropp will be burnt in endlessness
There will remain a misty memery dewed
Of drinking to the bottom
Where I ceased the life will move on
The roads will be remembered from the fountain prime
I'll write the paths in hundeds of ways
At the bottom of my own eyes
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice jutro
Po kišnim kapima prepoznacu svitanje
Hocu da gledam sunce kao da je prvi put
Hocu da gledam nebo kao da je posljednji
Tamo gdje sam stala ugasice se voda
Spržice se misao kapi u beskraju
Ostace maglovito zorom orošeno sjecanje
Na ispijanje do dna
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice život
Sa iskonskog vrela pamtice se putevi
Na sto nacina ispisacu staze
Na dnu sopstvenih ociju
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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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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Moja Jutra
Moja jutra su jutra
Jutra moga sutra
Tu svićem tu zanoćim
Ponoćno dišem
Tešku tminu raznosim
Zvijezdama je brišem
Moja jutra su jutra
Jutra moga sutra
Tu svjetlošću puta
Hranim sive gladi
Stojim nesvrgnuta
Gdje riječ mi se gradi
Moja su jutra
Jutra moga sutra
Bjelinomispisuju
Noći tihe magle
Plavim ispisuju
Što ruke su takle
Teret jedne strasti
U osvitu pjene
Jutrom ću potkrasti
Sopstvene zjene
Da svako bijelo prividom gine
Zlatom se optoči i suncem sine
U znak moga jutra
U jutro moga sutra
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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To make them live/Da bi zivjele
The bird stuck in my heart side breast
It’s trying to fly
On a magic key
Flirting with a wisdom snake
Wound within it own spiral
There’s the sky around us
The earth around us
The breath within us
U sudden turmoil
Calling the shades
Back to their body colours
There’s the sky around us
The earth around us
The breath within us
An epiphany of breathing
Calling the light
Each particle each wave
Back to the hair split in hands
Combing words dead
Combing words white
To make them live
Ptica zaglavljena u grudima tamo gdje je srce
Pokušava da leti na magicnom kljucu
Flertuje sa zmijom mudrošcu
Uvijenom oko sopstvene spirale
Oko nas je nebo
Oko nas je zemlja
I u nama dah
Iznenadni nemir
Što zove sjenke
Nazad bojama njihovog tijela
Oko nas je nebo
Oko nas je zemlja
I u nama dah
Epifanija disanja što zove svjetlo
Svaku cesticu svaki talas
Nazad u kosu ispucalu u rukama
Što cešljaju rijeci mrtve
Što cešljaju rijeci bijele
Da bi živjele
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A descendant of fire
what became first - fire or ash
'you'll melt like a candle in a little pool of wax
a face sealed by the spirit of wax
you'll burn like thoughts on a bonfire of words
for you are the fire that burns itself'
an arsonist said with wax in his eyes
'in a homeless whisper you're a broken flamelet
in the time of fire that swallows itself'
but a particle of ash is a fire descendant
and to burn is its wisdom
šta je prvo nastalo - vatra ili pepeo
'istopiceš se ko svijeca u barici voska
duhom voska zapecacen lik
goreceš ko misli na lomaci rijeci
jer ti si vatra koja samu sebe prži
rece mi palikuca sa voskom u ocima
'u bezdomnom šapatu spaljeni žižak
u vremenu vatre koja samu sebe guta'
ali cestica pepela potomak je vatre
i da gori njena je mudrost
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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Heraclitus Fr.30
The world is becoming the bruise in my heart
The desert skin wearing the burns of the dark
The burns of the light
It’s placed in the accords of infliction
The thought of the rain and wind the volcano and the grain
A re-creation of endless circles
The spheric cages of the sky and earth
Dressed in moss my chilly waitings are
The soul of the north freezes my breath
Reality swallowed in a piece of question
Infinitely pushes the edges of the fall
The finite stuck within a dream
Where have I heard the eternal rhythm of the tribe
The beating of the earth within its step
The breathing of the water dripping down
The walls of the caves
Where have I seen the volcano lava
From the centre of nothing into the infinite
The flame was singing instead of me
From secret to secret lit up died out
Peaceful fires of order
Among which I burned
Written in 1995.
Svijet mi postaje modrica na srcu
Koža pustinje sa opekotinom od mraka
Sa opekotinom od svjetla
Staje u akorde stradanja
Misao kiše i vjetra vulkana i grumena
Ponovno stvaranje beskrajnih kružnica
Kružni kavezi zemlje i neba
Obrasla mahovinom ledna mi č ekanja
Sjeverna duša ledi mi dah
Pod kriškom pitanja progutana stvarnost
U nedogled gura rubove pada
Gdje se u konač nost sabija san
Otkud sam č ula vječ ni ritam plemena
Otkucaj zemlje u njegovim stopama
Disanje vode u iskapavanju
Sa zidova peć ina
Otkud sam vidjela lavine vulkana
Iz grotla nič eg u beskraj
Umjesto mene pjevao je plamen
Iz tajne u tajnu palila se gasila
Mirna svjetla poretka
Izmeđ u njih gorjela sam ja
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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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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Un enfant terrible
A lovely child of beautitude
Breaks a toy of life under the fingers
Breathes in what takes a breath away
Dies its own immortality
Un enfant terrible
A terrible child
The daughter and the son of fire
Adopted in a tender flame
It will come out the box
Be the victim of the broken fire
Be a necklace of its own yearning
Be a rope around its own neck
And an endless circle
Ljupko dijete blaženstva
Pod prstima lomi igračku života
Udiše ono što oduzima dah
Sopstvenu besmrtnost umire
Un enfant terrible
Užasno dijete
Kćer požara i sin vatre
Pastorče nježnog plamička
Izaćiće iz svoje kutije
Biti žrtva polomljene vatre
Ogrlica sopstvene čežnje
Omča oko vrata
I beskrajan krug
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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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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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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Where Are You?
You placed in the drop
Of my thirsty rains
You waited for in the flight
Of my whirlpool birds
You settled in each
Restlessness word
You sacredly sphered
On my universe forehead
Where are you
Feed with peace
The walk of your hours
Ti nastanjen u kaplji
Mojih žednih kiša
Ti č ekan u letu
Vrtložnih mi ptica
Ti useljen u svakoj
Riječ i od nemira
Ti sveto zaokružen
Na č elu mog svemira
Gdje si
Mirom hrani
Hod svojih sati
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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And that the thought was just another day/I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan
And that the thought was just another day
No one has said as yet
An unsaid one that cracks with the boughs
Still being dawned for a day to be
I knew for
The outbreak slippery among the fingers
Pours down the beads of sunbeams through the clouds
No one has said as yet
The sides of the world folded on a sheet of paper
An origami of unspreadedness
Unwritten hours sealed in emptiness
On the first geometry class where we will learn
We're perhaps a square with headless points
Marked ABCD
In an alphabet of beheaded words
No one has said as yet no one has dared
The distant counting of Euclid's vows
Xenon's accounts and Pythagoras' secrets
Hung around the neck of a bird
That due to gold of knowledge cannot fly
No one has shaped as yet
A mathematical axiom at the top part of an operational table
Edged by formulae algorhithms
By which Reason the mother of order
Protectively hides the chaos of the possible
We'll be silent about the tents
Under which we've hidden security particles
Precious dust of knowledge in the urn light we'll store
We'll be silent about the warm blankets of thoughts
Covering dreams in an early morning
The marbles of small deceptions the spherical many colouring
We could be stolen them all
And to stand like nothing facing the loveless world
Only Love can do
Who we've never been enough
I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan
Niko rekao nije
Nedorečen što s granjem puca
A za riječ osvanut znala sam jer
Svanuće klizavo medj prstima
Brojanice sunčevih zraka kroz oblake sipa
Niko nije rekao
Na listu papira presavijene stranice svijta
Origami neotklopljenosti
Neispisivanjem sati zapečaćen u prazno
Na prvom času geometrije gdje saznaćemo
Da možda smo samo naučen kvadrat obezglavljenih tjemena
Obilježenih ABVG
Azbukom odrubljene riječi
Niko nije rekao niko nije smio
Daleka prebrojavanja Euklidovih zavjeta
Zenonovih računa Pitagorinih tajni
O vrat ptice obješenih
Što od zlata znanja otežala ne može da leti
Niko nije oblikovao
Matematički aksiom na vrhu operacionog stola
Oivičen formulama algoritmima
Kojim Razum majka reda vješto prikriva
Haos mogućeg
Prećutaćemo šatore pod kojim
Skrili smo truni sigurnosti
Dragocjeni prah saznanja u urnu laku pohraniti
Prećutaćemo toplu ćebad misli
U rano jutro snom pokriveni
Klikere sitnih obmana male šarene sferičnosti
Sve bi mogli nam ukrasti
A stajati k'o ništa spram svijeta bez ljubavi
Može samo Ljubav
Koja nikad dovoljno nismo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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