Svemir
za samo jedan korak ustuknuo je dan
i pred njim
prevelik da bi bio nijem nemir
i pred njim
prastara da bi ćutala tišina
i pred njom
preuzan za prostore san
i pred njim
suviše procvala za buđenje tmina
i pred njom
beskrajan svemir
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
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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Delete (Nafaka)
What a morning said
I do not remember
What happened yesterday
I do not remember
Cruelty of sunrise
I do not remember
The drama of entrance
I do not remember
The drama of exit
I do not remember
The tragedy of being cried
I do not remember
The comedy of being laughted
I do not remember
Putting on sense into the shoes
I do not remember
Putting on the morning into a little shirt of light
The hair unleashed in front of the mirror
The roads that tread on their own steps
I do not remember anything
An extinguished candle above the graves
The first cry out of the life’s womb
Being broken before God
Staying away from the answers
I don’t remember anything
sta je reklo jutro ne sjecam se
sta je bilo juce ne sjecam se
okrutnosti svitanja ne sjecam se
drame ulaska ne sjecam se
drame izlaska ne sjecam se
tragedije otplakanoti ne sjecam se
komedije odsmijanosti ne sjecam se
nicega ne sjecam se
obuvanja smisla u cipele trajanja
oblacenja jutra u kosuljicu svjetlosti
rasplitanja kose ispred ogledala
puteva sto gaze sopstvene korake
nicega ne sjecam se
gasenja svijeca iznad grobova
prvog placa iz utrobe zivota
slomljenosti pred Bogom
uzmicanja pred odgovorima
nicega ne sjecam se
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sonnet LXXXIIII
LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre
breake out, that may her sacred peace molest:
ne one light glance of sensuall desyre:
Attempt to work her gentle mindes vnrest.
But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest,
& modest thoughts breathd fro[m] wel te[m]pred sprites
goe visit her in her bowre of rest,
accompanyde with angelick delightes.
There fill your selfe with those most ioyous sights,
the which my selfe could neuer yet attayne:
but speake no word to her of these sad plights,
which her too constant stiffenesse doth constrayn.
Onely behold her rare perfection,
and blesse your fortunes fayre election.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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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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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
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Gravitacija (Vec Kot Spijemo)
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
Po zgledu najboljega benda iz Kneaka
smo naredili en komad za Zmelkoowa junaka
je voh kot poljsko pivo in hiter kot raketa
in skoi v daljino 3m brez zaleta
Smo li biciklirat od Izole do Kopra
in smo skoraj ostali brez areta basista
na levi strani morje na desni je bla cesta
nad nami nebo nad njim pa nebesa
Na rexu je are zgubil ravnoteje
na ravnem odseku je zgrmel dol na skale
je blo tam eno dete v cvetu pubertete
je brez modrka leala na brisai od tete
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
Je gravitacija melon ukrivila aretu pogled
in je pista pod njim zgubila pravo smer
e sreo je imel da je padu na glavo
njemu ni blo ni malo je okruil skalo
Medtem pa je Damjan povozu maara
ki je vijoliasto opeen menjal gumo ves nesreen
jaz sem pa zgazu cel taborniki vod
s kazalci v zraku so iskali zahod
in naj e kdo ree da je pri tabornikih varno
varen si samo e poiva doma
Zgodba je izmiljena a to sploh ni vano
le po nauku se vidi kolko pesnik velja
1 2 5 7 9
Ve kot spijemo bolji smo in lepe zgledamo
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
Oči vične čekanju u rascvaloj vodi
Uminuo privid u snazi talasa
Na dlanu mi sjever jutro mu hodi
Zvukom se u srcu praporac bjelasa
Oči vične gledanju promrzloga svijeta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
Ruke vične lutanju u dozrele tmine
Pred kapijom jednom premrle od straha
Što u šaci drže usudom se vine
U planine sniježne zaleđenog daha
Ruke vične svijanju suludoga spleta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
U kosu se spusti pupoljasta mrena
Gine snagom vida od dodira trena
Kose vične svijanju osijedjelog svijeta
Kad kesten dvaput procvjeta
1997.
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I quote the mornings/Citiram jutra
I quote the mornings and awakening
And a sunbeam exploding in a treetop
I quote an old hope between my lips
And the fall of the sun down the abysses of the twilight
I quote the fire that cannot be extinct
In the torches of a cave-like current
The mark of the light on the palm of my hand
And the ashes of my future
I quote the passion of an eye
Destructive and horrifying
Fearing eyesight
I quote the alphabet that goes beyond words
Inexpressibility of every alpha and beta
Gamma and delta
I quote a life
And within my bosom I quote a fear
That everything will remain just a quotation
Citiram jutra i budjenje
I zrak sunca raspuknut u krošnji
Citiram nadu ostarjelu medju prstima
I pad sunca u sunovrate sumraka
Citiram vatru neugasivu
U bakljama pecinskog toka
I trag svjetlosti na dlanu
I pepeo svoje buducnosti
Citiram strast oka razornu i strašnu
Pred kojom strepi pogled
Citiram azbuku koja nadilazi rijeci
Neizrecivost svakog alfa i beta
Gama i delta
Citiram život i u njedrima ko guju gajim strah
Da ce sve ostati u citatnosti
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
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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The Gardener
the one who places green
into a defeated leaf
fades away alongside the signs
of a virgin immaculate heart
the one who strokes the green
with the drops of his love
will recognize the gardener
the green he's dancing
baštovan
ko smješta zeleno
u pobijeđ enu vlat
sa njim venu vjesnici
djeve č ista srca
ko miluje zeleno
kapljom svoje ljubavi
špznać e vrtlara
on zeleno pleše
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Who spilled the sky /Ko je prosuo nebo
There's a frightening symmetry
In the phases of the Moon stuck
In Luna's face-the remnants of a pale mask
Red and blue blood
Running down the neck
Who spilled the sky
Who spilled black and white cartridge
On the clouds that used to play with it
Ko je prosuo nebo
Postoji zastrašujuca simetrija
U fazama Mjeseca zaglavljenog
Na Luninom lice-ostacima blijede maske
Dok joj crvena i plava krv
Teku niz vrat
Ko je prosuo nebo
Ko je poprskao plavim i crvenim punjenjem
Oblake što su se nekad
Igrali sa njim
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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It's all right/U redu je
Empty glass sandy girl
5 milligrams of brain on the rims
Drunk up to the last of the drops
Vacuum cleaned tubed
You played poet corner freaks
And the paling Moon perceived
Living ground fair fair
Fairground ride a ride
To hurt is not to feel
All by yourself
It's all right
The man behind the back
Is the memory of an in front
He taps your shoulder
He touches you closely
Too closely to run run run
With no bones to chew
Through the rains
The dogs are barking the title
Of this civil morality play
En garde
Touchee untouched
Get it out of your mind
Get rid of the songs
Get rid of the beat
The distuned abused muzak
In the heart of a shopping mall
Pervasively sick humming along
It's all right
The tradename behind your back
Is just a memory of an in front
And in particular whoever ever
Knew what's before the eyes
Paid ears to frantic calls
In no place to crawl like a human baby
Tasting the dust floor with a tiny finger
Dipped into an unknown full of wonder and trust
Lost when old grown
To the knowledge of good and evil
Through thick and thin
Goodness and sin
It's all right-move on
Just don't think and drive
Might be killed by too many traffic lights
Predominantly rainbow stuck
So just stick to the road
I'll touch you I'll teach you
The meaning of the winds
The message of this urban rite
Look at no burns no bars
Focus on white line and stops featuring in
Wildstream streets waterfalls of buildings
This is no levitation time
In no natural no factural environment friendly
Where you won't be urged to give your thoughts
Thoughthold tips to caring waiters
Fines to bad taxi drivers
And fees for memberships lost
It's all right
They won't notice there's too much of a word inside
To say anything
Prazna čaša pješčana djevojko
5 miligrama mozga na ivicama
Ispijena do posljednje kapi
Usisana tubirana
Igrala si frikove sa pjesničkih uglova
A mjesec sve blijeđi primjetio je
Živo tlo i vašar vašar
Vožnju na vašarskom polju
Povrijediti znači ne osjećati
Sasvim sama
U redu je
Čovjek iza tvojih leđa
Samo je sjećanje na ono ispred
On te dira po ramenu
On te dira suviše blizu
Suviše blizu za bijeg bijeg bijeg
Bez kostiju za oglod
Kroz kiše
Psi laju naslov
Ovog građanskog mirakula
En garde
Touchee nedotaknuta
Izbaci iz glave
Oslobodi se pjesama
Oslobodi se ritma
Nemelodičnog zloupotrebnog muzaka
U srcu tržnog centra
Sto preovlađujuće bolestan melodiju mumla
U redu je
Trejdmark iza tvojih leđa
Samo je sjećanje na ono ispred
A posebno ako je iko ikad
Znao ono pred očima
Spustio je uho divljem zovu
Bez mjesta da puziš kao ljudsko mladunče
Što isprobava prašnjavi pod majušnim prstom
Umočenim u nepoznato sa puno čuđenja i povjerenja
Izgubljenog kad odraste
Do poznanja dobra i zla
Kroz dobro i zlo
Dobrotu i grijeh
U redu je idi dalje
Tek ne misli dok voziš
Možeš poginuti od suviše semafora
Preovlađujuće dugom zaglavljenih
Tako drži se puta
Dotaknuću te poučiću te
Značenju krivina
I smislu ovog urbanog ritual
Ne gledaj opekotine pregrade
Usresredi se na bijelu liniju i stanice što glume
U divljem potoku ulica i vodopadima zgrada
Ovo nije vrijeme za levitaciju
U nenaturalnon nefacturalnom okruženju frendli
Gdje nećeš imati potrebu da dijeliš svoje misli
Misli uporišta napojnice brižnim konobarima
Kazne lošim taksistima
I nadoknadu za izgubljena članstva
U redu je
Neće primjetiti da unutra ima puno od riječi
Da bi išta rekli
©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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pola
istine na zemlji od čovjeka tek pola
pola života tragamo za njom
drugu polovinu bježimo od nje
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How to interpret games/Kako protumaciti igre
For the beginning it would be helpful to remember your childhood. The game is one of the hardest concepts and it requires the classification through the use of a chronological criterion. The games of childhood are a path towards theorizing the world. They sometimes imitate life without an authentic understanding of it, even without the need or wish to understand.
Playing tag for instance is a way to reach the other person using the advantages of the touch therapy.
Ring a ring a roses belongs to the same category except for the fact that this is the game in which you need to turn around a lot. Some people turn so a lot that they get into a trance which only the hide and seek can wafe them from. Speaking of hide and seek you can play it only if you have no problem with your eyesight and if you know how to count at least to…ten. You also need an elementary knowledge of your environment so that the others don't have to look for you in various corners where you can be detained with or without kneeling on corn. (Kneeling on corn is the game of the transition period)
The game of growing up is red gloves. Sometimes the gloves are so red that you may end up being blood transfused. The most interesting thing is that even if you know who hit you the pain does not decrease. Time, the most important factor in the development of games, can be helpful in increasing the pain tolerance degree. A comforting fact is that the only constant thing in the whole game is the colour of the gloves.
The game of the mature period is mother and father. Genetics plays the crucial role here. A continual jigsaw between dna and rna counting of chromosomes like marbles will distract your attention from the essence of this game.
The game of getting old is silent swinging alongside brain cells dying out. In this period you have already managed to cope with all the aforementioned games and now you can finally take your time.
The game of dying is a fairy tale being red before a good night's sleep and a dream in which you're swayed by someone's warm and calm voice. For in the end all you are craving is silence.
Za pocetak bi bilo dobro da se sjetite djetinjstva. To uvijek pomaze. Ovo je inace jedan od najtezih pojmova i zahtjeva klasifikovanje istog koristeci hronoloski kriterijum. Igre djetinjstva put su ka sagledavanju svijeta. One imitiraju zivot bez istinskog razumijevanja istog, a i bez potrebe i zelje za razumijevanjem. Suga je nacin da stignete do drugog koristeci prednosti touch terapije.
U istu kategoriju spada i ringe ringe raja s tim sto vam odzvoni jos prije nego sto ostarite jer je to igra u kojoj puno morate da se vrtite. Neki od nje prosto padaju u trans iz koga ih moze probuditi samo igra zmurke. Zmurke mozete da se igrate samo ukoliko nemate poteskoca sa vidom i ukoliko znate da brojite... makar do deset. Potrebno je i elementarno poznavanje okoline da ne bi na kraju morali i vas da traze po raznim coskovima u koje vas za kaznu stavljaju sa ili bez klecanja na kukuruzu.
(Klecanje na kukuruzu je igra prelaznog perioda) Potrebno je takodje da se unaprijed pomirite sa cinjenicom da nemate pojma koga u stvari trazite. Nije vazno. Cilj uvijek mozete da izmislite. Jer uvijek ce do kraja ostati nerazjasnjeno da li je krajnja svrha igranja postizanje uspjeha ili je igra samoj sebi cilj.
Igra odrastanja je igra crvenih rukavica. Nekad toliko crvenih da zavrsite na transfuziji krvi. Najzanimljivije je to sto i ako pogodite ko vas je zviznuo to ne umanjuje bol. Vrijeme koje je najvazniji faktor u razvoju igara moze vam biti od pomoci da povisite stepen tolerancije na bol. Utjesno je sto u svakom trenutku znate kada i gdje su vas udarili kao i to da je jedina postojana stvar u cijeloj igri boja rukavica.
Igra zrelog doba je igra mame i tate. Genetika je ovdje od presudnog znacaja. Kontinuirano klackanje izmedju RNK i DNK, prebrojavanje hromozoma kao klikera odvratice vam paznju sa sustine igre.
Igra starenja je tiho ljuljanje od kojeg odumiru mozdane vijuge. U ovom periodu vec ste savladili sve prethodno navedene igre i sada mozete da se mirno prepustite uzivanju.
Igra umiranja je citanje bajke pred spavanje i san u koji vas uljuljkuje neciji topao i smiren glas. Jer na kraju svega vapite samo za tisinom.
A Little School of Interpretation, …in x lessons,2007.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raspuce
Zaiskriš li pod tišinom
Vatrom tihom gaziš svijet
Prodišeš li ko pod tminom
Pod njom čekaš neboplet
Prosijaš li zrncem sjaja
Sjajem isti zove put
Završiš li put do kraja
Nebu tihom nađeš skut
Očešljaš li žuta klasja
Ko u miru plave kose
Tad misao put obasja
I same te oči nose
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!