Pythia the Stunt/Pitija kaskaderka
she liked paranormal activities
and saw symbolic connections between
apparently unconnected things
thus a pebble accidentally kicked
by her middle class boots
got endless measures in cosmic dimensions
of issues de-accidentalized
she liked mysteries
she heard the deaths whispered
into her ears only
of close relatives and distant people
she saw
colours dropped into her dreams only
of sleepy impressionists
and silent expressionists
post mortem hanging in reproductions
oh one of so many one of so many
in her pastoral home
she suffered from modesty pretend
and swam her butterfly style
in the swimming pool of her ego
perfectly aware of the fact
that not even those who serve God
far more diligently that she did
were not addressed by an angel voice
(but how could she have been guilty of that)
as the voice called her and only her
and only those similar to her
ready to applaud the great gift
only if their own was recognized
thinking she was a genius if she understood a genius
still I think she knew a lot
she knew so to say everything
especially since the day when
due to the pebble-deep voice-great gift
she became a real psychic …and got mad
______________________________________
pitija kaskaderka
je voljela paranormalne aktivnosti
i vidjela simbolič ne veze izmeđ u
naizgled nepovezanih stvari
tako kamenč ić sluč ajno šutnit
njenim srednjeklasnim č izmama
dobijaše nesagledive razmjere u kosmič kim dimenzijama
odsluč ajenih stvari
ona je voljela misterije
č ula
samo njoj došapnute smrti
bliskih rođ aka i dalekih ljudi
vidjela
samo u njene snove ubač ene boje
usnulih impresionista
utihlih ekspresionista
posmrtno obješenih u reprodukijama
(jednimod tako mnogo jednim od tako mnogo)
njenog pastoralnog doma
ona je patila od lažne skromnosti
savršeno svjesna da se ni onima
što Bogu služiše predanije od nje
nije javio anđ eoski glas
(pa kako je za tako nešto mogla biti kriva)
tek njoj samo njoj
i onima slič nim njoj
što spremni su da tapšu velikoj nadarenosti
samo ako im se prizna sopstvena
kao da si genije ako shvatiš genija
...je mnogo znala
znala takoreć i sve
pogotovo od onog dana kada je
igrom kamenč ić a-dubinskog glasa-velike obdarenosti
postala stvarno vidovita i...poludjela
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mogoce Me Ni
Nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Nisem se uc'il exat enga litra vina da bi mogu zaklepat z'epe vsakih 5
minut
mislit na denar bolj kot na lastno veselje in gledat face zdolgoc'asenih
kurb
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni ...
Jaz sem s'e bolj neobstojen od molekule ozona in c'e spijem eno pivo paf
se spremenim v kaviar
vedno imam pri sebi lasuljo od fantoma tarzanov dez'nik in majhno opico
ki pazi na denar
nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can You/Mozes li
Can you place a smile
within a framework of the universe
or is it the only way to cry against it?
Mozes li smjestiti osmjeha
u obrazac svemira
ili se samo tako place protiv njega?
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A wish
I wish I could die like a plant
To silently fade out and never let my voice
I wish I could live like a plant
To close my buds facing the knowledge of pain
I wish I could walk the earth unheard
To sneak among the trees and spikes
I wish I could be silent
Like a plant
Želja
Voljela bih da umrem kao biljke
Da se tiho gasim i glasa od sebe da ne dam
Voljela bih da živim kao biljke
Da sklopim latice pred spoznajom boli
Voljela bih da necujno hodam zemljom
Da se šunjam kroz drvece i klasja
Voljela bih da mogu da cutim
Kao biljke
1991.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beat Of Sorrow That Thinks Of Beauty/Otkucaj Tuge Sto Ljepotu Mni
it takes a memory that runs over itself
to get to learn and endless southern rhythm
it takes a fire that burns itself down
to get to know an ocean wave
it takes tender enough strong enough fingers
to summerize anything into a touch
so that the heard amidst the things could recognise
a beat of sorrow that thinks of beauty
it takes much more and reaches much stronger
to ask for more to search and look
so as to eventually know
the one in the seed of wake planted
the being cut off from itself
into the cliffs of the world pushed forever
it takes a huge knowledge an endless one
of this world's drama
for just one beat of sorrow that thinks of beauty
otkucaj tuge što ljepotu mni
potrebno je sjećanje koje samo sebe gazi
da bi se spoznao beskrajni ritam juga
potrebna je vatra koja samu sebe spaljuje
da bi se spoznao okeanov talas
potrebni su dovoljno nježni i snažni prsti
da bi se išta saželo u dodir
da bi srce u srži svega moglo da prepozna
otkucaj tuge što ljepotu mni
potrebno je mnogo više mnogo snažnije
da se ište dalje da se traži
da bi se najzad saznalo
ono u sjemenu buđenja začeto
od sebe samog otkinuto biće
u urvine svijeta zauvijek bačeno
potrebno je jedno veliko beskrajno veliko
poznavanje drame ovog svijeta
za samo jedan otkucaj tuge što ljepotu mni
1990.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Klub Ljudi Z Resnimi Tezavami
C'e ti zjutraj ko je kriza avto ne vz'ge in ti med dopustom vedno ribica
umre
stalno z'ivis' v krizi identitete ne znas' raztrgat perforirane serviete
c'e ti obup redno skac'e pred oc'i smrt te voha in po s'unki ji dis'is'
v boljs'o prihodnost ceste ni nobene rad bi bil zver a si le malo
s'c'ene
Pridi pogledat v nas' novi klub sami tez'ki pacijenti vrz'eni na kup
vsakega muc'i vsaj ena tez'ava vsak bo prisegu da njegova je prava
mali karlo je z'e kot otrok skuz'u kaj je to kvalitativni preskok
samo iz mase ljudi z velikimi problemi lahko pridejo ven tako dobri
refreni
Problemi so problemi bojo in kurc jih gleda
problemi so problemi bojo in klinc jih gleda seveda
problemi so problemi bojo in klinc jih gleda
problemi so problemi bojo al pa ne
vsako tolko tudi kaks'en od njih umre vsako tolko
C'e se ti dojenc'ki smejejo v obraz ko se smejis' ti vedno s'kripa glas
ostanes' trezen s'e po dvajseti pivi gledas' v kamne in mislis' da so
z'ivi
ob dobri priliki hitro zamiz'is' ko je s'la mimo gres' za njo in jo
lovis'
c'im mine panika postane dolgoc'asno kar imajo drugi je zmeraj najbolj
krasno
Pridi pogledat v nas' novi klub sami tez'ki pacijenti vrz'eni na kup
vsakega muc'i vsaj ena tez'ava vsak bo prisegu da njegova je prava
mali karlo je z'e kot otrok skuz'u kaj je to kvalitativni preskok
samo iz mase ljudi z velikimi problemi lahko pridejo ven tako dobri
refreni
Problemi so problemi bojo in kurc jih gleda
problemi so problemi bojo in klinc jih gleda aneda
problemi so problemi bojo in klinc jih gleda seveda
problemi so problemi bojo al pa ne
vsako tolko tudi kaks'nega z'aba poz're vsako tolko
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gde zeka pije vodu
U sokaku ćorsokaku
Il u mraku
Tu za kvaku
Pa kod vrata
Il kod brata
Polubrata s trećeg sprata
Il kod peći
Takoreći
Zaklon prvi ili treći
Il kad vruće
Pa od kuće
Kano ptica otcvrkuće
Kad komšija nešto svija
Pa da šija
Ne ćarlija
Mrda brke
Evo frke
Vetrić mali
Glava fali
Ode glava a i rep
Zeka beše baš baš lep
Niz potočić suza taknu
Zeku vetrić samo maknu
Niz rečicu jauk teče
Vetrić vetrić mnogo peče
Pa sad kaž'te tužno li je
Gde to zeka vodu pije
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sexy Rdece Oci
Ostanem hladen c'e mi ukradejo kitaro
c'e me vlec'ejo na kaks'no zafixano zabavo
c'e mi vrtajo v koleno z najbolj grozno napravo
ampak ko vidim tebe postanem mrzel
Ostanem miren c'e mi grozijo s pis'tolo
c'e mi raztres'c'ijo lobanjo z macolo
ostanem miren c'e me utopijo v beton
ampak ko vidim tebe postanem mrzel
Ona ima tako sexy rdec'e oc'i ...
C'e ne bi bil tako cool bi jo raztrgal
c'e ne bi bil tako cool bi jo
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's not it-To nije to
Excuse me sir
You look like someone I've met before
And I am sure it is like that
I'm sure everyone has met everyone before
In what's called preceding lives
Do you believe in that sir
I mean those karmas
Moving along cyclic zodiacs
Made of illiterate stars
Sounds quite familiar to me
A life through trials and errors
I think sir
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
(Do not worry you don't have to give me any
Of your monthly revenue
I am not that kind of a beggar)
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
And look at those divinely entangled lines
So cryptic
That are supposed to determine my fate
I think there's got to be some mistake there
That they are not there to determine me
But to tell me that this palm belongs to me only
That I am just like you sir
A creature born once a creature divine
Unrepeatable and free
For most when I outstretch the palm of my hand
To see my own geometry of the universe
Or to turn it into a fist
To strike the face of Fortune
Then I think sir
For sure we've all met before
In the faces of Adam and Eve
Hitting their foreheads against the ground
Once they vaguely hinted the Heaven is perhaps
Nothing but a wholeness of a soul in unity with its Creator
And Hell the lack of the same thing
Yes I am sure we've met before
In the face of Christ crucified on the cross
That redeemed us through his blood
For a dream in which an Idiot
Will not have to find a compartment
In which he would, with a roomful of thoughts
In his head just like me right now,
He would not have to repeat
That's not it that's not it until he cannot
Thinking perhaps about those marbles of lifeful life
Whose glimmer fades away once they break out on the surface
To dry in the fire of their own eyes
Thinking that's not it that's not it
Meaning perhaps those insipid theories
Endlessly talked about in a leisure
Of some nice first class trains
Journey through Switzerland
Theories endlessly repeated at some nice
Comfortable places just on a pass by through life
In a conversation with an art dealer
Theories made official through some nicely polished clear expression
So clear that one could die of clarity
And nothing would be said about an idiot
Sir we look so far away
So far away from Adam that's been met before lying in our bones
The way the trains suicidely lie on the rails of expulsion
So far away from Eve and her snake
Winding like a steam of a train
Of a great invention that has perhaps only been brained out
So that an Idiot in a first class train
Travelling through Switzerland
Could keep repeating that's not it that's not it
We look so far away from them
And still keep hitting our foreheads against the ground
That's not it that's not it sir
Sorry for stopping you
What I actually wanted to ask you is
Which street we're in
And if you know what my name is
And if it's ever too late to know ourselves
(Note: Idiot, a novel by Fjodor Michailowitsch Dostojewski)
To nije to
Izvinite gospodine
Izgledate kao neko koga sam vec srela
I sigurno je tako
Sigurno smo sreli
U onome što zovu prethodnim životima
Vjerujete li vi u to
Mislim u te karme
Što se krecu po ciklicnim zodijacima
Nastalih od nepismenih zvijezda
Jedan zivot putem pokušaja i pogrešaka
Zvuci mi sasvim poznato
Mislim gospodine
To znate kada ispružim dlan
(ne brinite nista ne morate da mi date
Od svog mjesecnog prihoda
Ja nisam takva prosjakinja
Kada ispružim dlan
I pogledam sve te linije
Božanstveno isprepletene i kripticne
Koje treba da mi odrede sudbinu
Mislim da tu postoji neka greška
Da one nisu tu da me odrede
Vec da mi kažu da ovaj dlan
Pripada samo meni
Da sam kao i vi gospodine
Jednom rodena božanska
Neponovljiva i slobodna licnost
I to najviše onda kada ispružim dlan
Da vidim sopstvenu geometriju svemira
Ili kada ga stisnem u pesnicu
Ne bih li zadala udarac Fortuni
Ja mislim gospodine
Da sasvim sigurno svi smo se vec negdje sreli
U licu Adama i Eve što lupaju celom u zemlju
Kad naslutili su da raj možda nije ništa drugo
Do cjelovitost duše sa njenim Tvorcem
A pakao nedostatak iste
Da sasvim sigurno
Svi smo se vec jednom sreli
U licu Hrista raspetog na krstu
Što krvlju nas svojom uvijek iznova iskupljuje
Za san u kome jedan Idiot
Nece morati da pronadje kupe
U kom bi sa punom sobom misli
Baš kao ja sad do iznemoglosti ponavljao
To nije to to nije to
Misleci možda na rijeci klikere živog života
Što gube sjaj kada isplivaju na površinu
Da se suše u vatri sopstvenih ociju
Misleci na to nije to to nije to
Misleci možda na ucmale teorije života
Što se ispredaju dokono u finim vozovima
Prve klase u prolazu kroz Švajcarsku
I ponavljaju sve po nekim finim udobnim mjestima
U prolazu kroz život
U razgovoru sa trgovcem umjetnickih djela
Ozvanicene putem nekog finog ispoliranog jasnog izraza
Toliko jasnog da ce da se umre od razgovjetnosti
A ništa o Idiotu nece reci
Kako smo daleko gospodine
Kako smo daleko od tog Adama
Što sretosmo ga ranije u kosti nam ulego
Onako kao vozovi samoubilacki leže
Na šinama izgnanosti
Daleko od te Eve i njene zmije
Što se izvija kao para voza
Velikog izuma
Koji je možda izmozgan samo da jedan Idiot
U finom vozu prve klase na putovanju kroz Švajcarsku
Tiho ponavljao to nije to to nije to
Kako samo izgledamo daleko od njih
A i dalje lupamo celom o zemlju
To nije to to nije to gospodine
Izvinite što sam vas zaustavila
U stvari sam samo htjela da vas pitam
U kojoj sam sada ulici
Dali možda znate kako se zovem
I dali je ikada kasno da spoznamo sebe
Napomena: Idiot, roman Fjodora Mihailovica Dostojevskog
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kdo Se Je Zbral
Kaj ti bojo c'rna oc'ala sredi noc'i
da z njimi skrijes' svoje grde oc'i
kaj ti bojo vsi djamanti na belih prstih
bo jo s'e vedno svetli, ko bos' gnila v krsti
kaj ti bojo c'rne najlonke na mastnih bedrih
rajs'i gledam najlonaste c'rnke kaj ti bojo c'rna oc'ala?
S'e eno pivo, metek v c'elo,
kdo se je zbral samo da imas' v srcu plamen v glavi kamen
Kaj ti bojo rdec'a s'minka in celi zobje
mesena usta, ki jih nikoli ne zapres'
kaj ti bojo gomila dnarja in tisoc' stvari
ki jih drz'is' v glavi da se moz'gani nebi skisali
kaj ti bojo c'rna oc'ala
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pjesma o izgubljenim pjesmama
zelim veceras napisati
pjesmu o izgubljenim pjesmama
napisao sam o prirodi
mnogo pjesama
priroda je tu
vidim je
a pjesme su izgubljene
napisao sam o zivotu
mnogo pjesama
zivot je tu pred nama
zivimo ga
a pjesme su izgubljene
napisao sam o ljubavi
mnogo pjesama
ljubav osjecam
dogadja mi se
a pjesme su izgubljene
napisao sam o zenama
mnogo pjesama
ko zna gdje su one danas
i pjesme i zene
hvala ti Tanja zato sto je
zena ponovo usla
u moju pjesmu
poem by Jankovic Zoran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yo!
Smo s'li v Osmico naroc'ili 8 pizz
ni bilo pizz smo rekli bomo pili kapuc'in
ni bilo niti kapuc'ina smo pili samo vino
Smo s'li v pizzerijo naroc'ili bakala
niso imeli bakalaja smo hoteli pomfri
ni bilo niti pomfrija smo jedli samo pizzo
Smo s'li v mesnico po batne obroc'ke
niso imeli obroc'kov smo hoteli baterijo
ni bilo biti baterije smo kupili jetrca
Smo s'li na banko da bi nas ostrigli
niso imeli niti s'karij samo c'eke in denar
smo vzeli nekaj denarja in s'li v zapor
ikoli vec' se ne bom ostrigel
nikoli vec' ne bom streljal krems'nit
nikoli vec' ne bom zajc'ek na zidu
nikoli vec' ne bom majhen in zelen
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One moment/Jedan trenutak
can be a short story prolonged into thousands of pieces
tis is how some novels have been written
jedan trenutak moze biti kratka prica produzena u hiljade komada
tako se pisu neki romani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nothing (Nafaka)
In which the fullness of being stands
I settle illusions withing
For the sake of evil omens
Not to bloom in spring
Nothing in which I push the questions
In which I settle the answers
For the sake of sense
Not to die out by autumn
Nothing
In which I pour the whiteness
In which I settle the freezing
For the waiting not to melt down at winter
Nothing
In which the sunshine bathes
In which I settle the light
Not to burn myself in summer heat
NISTA u koje staje punoca bica
u njoj nastanjujem privid
uroka radi da se ne prozli
proljecem
nista u koje sazimam pitanja
u njima nastanjujem odgovor
smisla radi da s jeseni
ne uvene
nista u koje sipam bjelinu
u njoj nastanjujem promrzlost
u zimama cekanja da se ne istopi
pahulja
nista u kojem se preliva sunce
u njemu nastanjujem svjetlost
vrelinom ljeta da se ne sprzim
JA
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vatra I Sutra
u šaci strepnje istine gore
suza vremena u njoj tiho gine
s kapija uskih razum i stid zbore
u naručju tihom da se lako vine
vatra i sutra riječ i vrijeme
i umrlog konja tihi sap
mraz i jutra plameno sjeme
i promrzlog dodira kap
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Twilight Did/Sumrak jeste
I gave you the song
But you didn’t listen
I gave you the heart
But you didn’t beat
I gave you the bird
But you didn’t fly
I gave you
Of so little
And so much
Of what I had
But you didn’t take
The twilight did
Dadoh ti pjesmu
Ali ti je ne č u
Dadoh ti srce
Al kucao nisi
Nadoh ti pticu
Al letio nisi
Dadoh
Od onog malo
I onog mnogo
Što sam imala
Ali ti ne uze
Sumrak jeste
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let's Go Home Honey / Hajdemo Kuci Duso
She was sitting at a corner
A certain corner of a street made of cardboard
With a cardboard in a cardboard
A dinar fake of gold shining
Her fingers stretching accordion
Like sticky dough that won't go off the hands
She was playing playing so awfully
Her voice cold broken broken fingers blue
Stretching spiders down the scale D-minor
Of a morning full being sung for a dinar
For a dinar a happiness for two dinars the two
She was screaming barefoot each black under her nails
Each black on her tiny teeth
Each black in her hair
Each black in her eyes
She was playing
She was playing for the people
Mottled coats passing by in their buttonedness
That address each other with you
With what's new and how are you
With what are you doing with nothing
With each conquered form of com munication
She was playing playing endlessly
Poor sounds off the broken voice
Pinned wire vocal cords she did not know
She did not recognise the coat
A certain unbuttoned coat two pockets
Two sleeves and a collar
She did not know she did not recognise
Across the zebra crossing towards the prison
Towards the cage where she was playing
She did not recognise
A silently approaching Death that will
As lightly as a feather of a dove or a sparrow's nest
Lift her up from the pavement
To hug her silently tenderly singing
It's over now you little girl
Let's go home, honey
Ona je sjedala u jednom uglu
U jednom uglu ulice od kartona sa kartonom
U kartonu dinar od lažnog zlata presijava
Njene prste što razvlace harmoniku
Ko ljepljivo tijesto što s ruku nece da se smakne
Ona je svirala svirala užasno loše
I glas joj pukao od hladnoce od prstiju plavih
Što razvlace pauke duž ljestvice D-mol
Pune jutarnje otpjevanosti za dinar
Za dinar za srecu za dva dinara dvije
Urlala bosa svako crno ispod nokata
Svako crno na majušnim zubima
I crno u kosi
I crno u oku
Ona je svirala
Svirala za ljude šarene kapute
Što prolaze u zakopcanosti
I obracaju se jedni drugima sa ti sa vi
Sa šta ima novo i kako si
Sa šta radiš sa ništa
Sa svakim savladanim oblikom sa obracanja
Ona je svirala svirala do u beskraj
Loše zvuke s prslog glasa
Bodljikavih glasnih žica ona nije znala
Ona nije prepoznala jedan kaput
Jednu raskopcanost dva džepa
Dva rukava okovratnih
Ona nije znala ona nije prepoznala
Preko zebre korak do zatvora
Do kaveza u kom je svirala
Nije prepoznala
Tiho prošav Smrt da je
Lagano ko pero golubice ili gnijezdo vrapca
Sa plocnika podigne u narucje uzme
Zagrli tiho nježno da pjevuši
Sada je gotovo ti malena
Hajdemo kuci dušo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Napacen Planet
Hjuston vi hev a problem
Sem hotu povedat z'e v enem prejs'njem komadu da me je s'torklja
spustila
na napac'en planet
ampak c'udno gor al dol zdej sem pac' tukaj in ko sem lac'en moram nekaj
pojest
poklic'em znano tvrdko "halo mines'tra" in z'e zajemam sapo da bi kaj
naroc'il
a iz slus'alke ven zapiha najprej topel zrak in nizek z'enski glas tako
spregovori
To je napac'en planet
Me nic' ne zanima c'e si falu s'tevilko tukaj vroc'a linija toplarna
d.o.o.
potem je zac'ela blebetat v slus'alko ampak nisem vec' poslus'al ker
prevroc'e je bilo
kabel se je razstopil slus'alka se je vnela in soba je bla vroc'a kot
pekoc'i feferon
od moc'ne vroc'ine mi je frizura zogljjenela in z glavo polno dima sem
se
vrgu c'ez balkoon
To je napac'en planet
Sem teku v gostilno na dve veliki pivi samo bolni moz'gani bojo vedli
zakaj
ko sem pris'u nazaj so bli tam z'e gasilci raje kot da bi gasili so
postavljali mlaj
frajerji se grejo gasilsko veselico a vroc'ina leze iz his'e z roz'o v
laseh
kaj zdaj poslus'as' pesem al gledas' televizjo z'e vidim da bom mogu
refren
ponovit
To je napac'en planet napac'en planeet
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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