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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Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona kucaju preko lanaca od straha
Kucaju tiho kucaju glasno
Ona kucaju preko života do praha
Kucaju neč ujno kucaju jasno
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona se proljeć em otvaraju ko cvijet
Cvjetaju tiho preko vode polja
Ona se ruše i grade ko svijet
Što spašen reč e tvoja sam volja
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona tiho gasnu ko svijeć e nad grobom
Sumrakom ranim na vjetru od riječ i
I tiho se bude pod skutom sa tobom
Melemom ljubavi srce da se liječ i
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Kucaju nevino u kolijevci od krvi
Smrti se ne daju a humkom zidana
Da svjetlost vide kad dan im prvi
Ozari srca rukom tvojom vidana
Ti imaš svoja srca Marijo
Ona kucaju preko lanaca od straha
Kucaju tiho kucaju glasno
Ona kucaju preko života do praha
Kucaju neč ujno kucaju jasno
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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There They Sail Silently Sail/Tiho Brode Tiho Brode
Censured song offs of the paper ships
Cut into the masts like shadows
In a scissor cut the word has been cut
One word which called many names
With paper notes among two fingers
Windy mornings were spread
The wind knows what has been written
The paper ships knew nothing
Except to sail
To silently sail
Tiho brode tiho brode
Cenzurisano otpjevi papirnih brodova
U jedra izrezani ko sjene
Rezom makaza otkinuta
Jedna riječ je dozivala mnoga imena
Prstohvatom ceduljica
Posuta jutra vjetrovita
Vjetar zna šta je na njima pisalo
Papirni brodovi nisu znali ništa
Sem da brode
Sem da tiho brode
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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Hello, my name is Sarah
My name is Sarah
I am the one who is not
Who never is
These are the hands for my embraces
Mutilated in emptiness
Husked in the rings at twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
They are writing a history of a plastic toy
Buried in the tombs of childhood
That never grew towards a cradle.
My name is Sarah
I am the one who is trying to be
These are the feet for my steps.
Frozen in the paths
Tied by tinkling jewelerry
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
They walk the streets that there are no more
The streets trodden by mere silhouettes of paths
They go down the wells
To strangle in them
A swimming hope for the end.
My name is Sarah.
I am the one who wants.
This is the neck for your hands.
Slightly touch.
It's tied in thousands of necklaces
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
The darkness greedily eats
The circles I push the dreams into
I let it touch.
It's all right.
My name is Sarah.
I am the one who does not consent.
This is the hair for my plaits.
The silver ribbons
And shiny pearls at twilight I take off
And throw it into the dark.
It's all right.
I have broken all the rules
I have broken cliches
Magic circles
I tore the pages
On which
They try to write my fate.
I am Sarah
I am the one who is not
I am the one who is always
Only trying to be
I am the one who wants
I am the one who does not consent
I am always eternity tied
In pouring moments
I am the hope died for the end
I am the one who wants to understand
I am the one who does not always understand
But I AM.
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The night of mine (Nafaka)
like a pale cracking shadow of the Moon, my night
like a thought of an infinity below a starlit arch, my night
like a murmur of distant lonely silences, my night
like a breathing dying out under the pillow of pain, my night
like an evening star trown into a well, my night
like an abyss of heigths being silenced by the bottom, my night
like shivering of hours at the edge of the knife, my night
like windy wings in unspreadness, my night
like a whisper cut off from the quivering lips, my night
like fingers weaving the webs of the reveiled, my night
like a dawn of darkness, my night
kao blijedilo iskricave sjenke Mjeseca
noc moja
kao misao beskraja pod zvjezdanim svodom
noc moja
kao vreva dalekih usamljenih tisina
noc moja
ko minulo disanje pod jastukom od bola
noc moja
kao vecernja zvijezda spustena u bunare
noc moja
kao sunovrat u visine sto ih cuti dno
noc moja
kao treperenje sati na ostrici noza
noc moja
kao klepet leprsavih krila u nesklopljenosti
noc moja
kao sapat otkinut sa uzdrhtalih usana
noc moja
kao prsti koji pletu mreze razotkrivenosti
noc moja
kao svitanje tmine
noc moja
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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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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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
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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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Lament
We like death
It’s a God given gift
Bestowed upon us
God given Mercy
We die like butterflies
Burn them easily on a fire in a sec
We die silently like plants
We die loudly
Like waterfall blood
We die in the rocks
Sagacity is one our side
For we know
That it’s just in a second
Playing the role of sense
On Earth everything can be shattered
And that we didn’t choose
That God takes ones in his arms
And lets the others testify
We are the verdict of the surviving tyrants
We are the masters of our masters
Though our graves are too narrow
In the box of their secrets
Shelter is on our side
For we know
There’s no shelter on Earth
Therefore we like death
It’s a God given gift
Bestowed upon us
God given Mercy
Therefore we die
And recognize our children
By death only
Mi volimo smrt
Ona nam je od Boga velika Milost
Veliko uzdarje
Mi ginemo ko leptiri
Tanke nogice za cas na vatri sprzimo
Ginemo tiho kao biljke
Uz huku krvi ko slap
U stijenama ginemo
Mudrost je na nasoj strani
Jer mi znamo
Da na zemlji samo tren
Igra ulogu smisla
Da Bog jedne
Pod svoje okrilje uzme
A ostali zive da svjedoce
Mi smo osuda prezivjelih tirana
Nasih smo gospodara gospodari
Iako u skrinjama njihovih tajni
Groblja su nam tijesna
Sigurnost je na nasoj strani
Jer mi znamo
Da na zemlji zaklona nema
Zato mi volimo smrt
Ona nam je od Boga veliko uzdraje
Velika Milost
Zato mi ginemo
I djecu svoju po smrti prepoznajemo
Written inn 1999.
(Dedicated to the victims of NATO bombing Serbia 1999.)
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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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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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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Today I sing/ Danas pjevam
Today I sing unrest of a pontoon bridge
Beyond the water looking for a step and kiss
The hint of transfer a raft right across the sky
A ducat's ‘neath the tongue for midnight abyss
At the river bottom dug without my name
Today I sing a stone oh so deep it fell
I spread wings to the door silently like a crane
From my bottom flight a toll is in the bell
I'll be in your heart an echo strong and endless
On the bridge your daughter made of sparkling dress
Danas pjevam nemir pontonskoga mosta
Nad vodom što traži svoj poljubac gaz
I slutnjom prelaska splavom preko neba
S dukatom pod jezikom za ponocni jaz
Na dnu rijeke kopane bez imena mog
Danas pjevam kamen što duboko tone
Širim krila vratima tiho kao ždral
Sa dna moga leta sva me zvona zvone
Bicu ti u srcu odjek jak bez kraja
Na sredini mosta tvoja kcer od sjaja
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Twilight/Primrak
open your eyes for the Twilight
look there comes down the whole presence
to be in silence
an omnipresent non-thought and beyond-pain
in the first centuries
for ever and ever
that was the light of Heavenly Darkness
otvori oci za Primmrak
pogledaj nishodi vaskolika prisutnost
da budeš u cutanju
sveprisutna ne-misao i nad-bol
u prvih vjekova
za vjeke vjekova
to svjetlost Božanske Tmine bi
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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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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A bit of being cut off from a memory/Moj
Echoes closely down the hall like nothing
Thoughts ajar in a big silence
Like a door I must not go through
Unfulfilled thoughts
Left to beat in somebody else’s wells
The moments dragged into nowhere
Through a glass pane pacified in memory
A shivering hope will unveil the veil
Open the eyes
My shadow across the sky
Who knows how many times
Will beg for everything
That doesn’t want to give in
Like a wave drowned in the sea of waiting
Tearful song it will cry
In the foam out of the foam
My newly born dawn
Moj
Od sjeć anja otkinut trač ak trajanja
Što hodnicima blizu odzvanja ko ništa
U velikom ć utanju misli otškrinute
Ko vrata kroz koja ne smijem da prođ em
Ostać e nedomišljene da nekom drugom
Bunarima kucaju
Trenuci odvuč eni u nepovrat
Kroz okna od stakla umirena sjeć anjem
Nada što se batrga
Skinuć e velove otvoriti oč i
Moja sjena preko neba
Po ko zna koji put
Iskać e što se neć e dati
Morem išč ekivanja udavljeni talas
Proplakać e pjesmu
U pjeni iz pjene rođ ena
Moja nova zora
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My/Moj
A bit of being cut off from a memory
Echoes closely down the hall like nothing
Thoughts ajar in a big silence
Like a door I must not go through
Unfulfilled thoughts
Left to beat in somebody else’s wells
The moments dragged into nowhere
Through a glass pane pacified in memory
A shivering hope will unveil the veil
Open the eyes
My shadow across the sky
Who knows how many times
Will beg for everything
That doesn’t want to give in
Like a wave drowned in the sea of waiting
Tearful song it will cry
In the foam out of the foam
My newly born dawn
Moj
Od sjeć anja otkinut trač ak trajanja
Što hodnicima blizu odzvanja ko ništa
U velikom ć utanju misli otškrinute
Ko vrata kroz koja ne smijem da prođ em
Ostać e nedomišljene da nekom drugom
Bunarima kucaju
Trenuci odvuč eni u nepovrat
Kroz okna od stakla umirena sjeć anjem
Nada što se batrga
Skinuć e velove otvoriti oč i
Moja sjena preko neba
Po ko zna koji put
Iskać e što se neć e dati
Morem išč ekivanja udavljeni talas
Proplakać e pjesmu
U pjeni iz pjene rođ ena
Moja nova zora
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!