The Face Of Pain/Lice Bola
Your face made of а flower
Leaning on a fragile petal
It’s calling in a voice of solitude
The root thirst for shining
Your breathing in faded leaves
Trodden broken
Mere branches of breath
You’re floating with the clouds
Like a pain buried below deception
Your hands in twilight
A shattered embrace
A deflowered touch
Your cheek
A scar
Tvoje lice od cvijeta
Na krhku peteljku oslonjeno
Zove glasom osame
Korijen žedan sjaja
Tvoje disanje u svelom lišć u
Ogaženo lomljivo
Tek granč ica daha
Plutala si oblakom
Ko bol sahranjen pod obmanom
Tvoje ruke u sumraku
Slomljen zagrljaj
Obešč ašć eni dodir
Tvoj obraz
Ožiljak
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Related quotes
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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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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The first drop-Prva kap
the first dropp will touch your lips
the first break of dawn will touch your brow
the first open arms will call you into an embrace
the first open eyelids will open up my windows
letting the day come in
prva kap pašće na tvoje usne
prvi zrak svitanja dotaći ti čelo
prvo otvaranje oka pozvaće te u zagrljaj
prvo otvaranje kapaka otvroiće moje prozore
da unutra uđe dan
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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At the place where the darkness burnt out
the whip of your love
opened the wounds ripe for the blood
the bitterness of your lips
it opened the thought for a death
it's easier to die
that drawn the touch of your pain
into the fire of darkness
tamo gdje je izgoreo mrak
bič tvoje ljubavi
rane otvara za smrt
tvojih usana pelin
misao otvara za smrt
umrijeti je lakše
no dodir tvog bola
u požar tmine uroniti
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sweet Flower
I don’t get it
You seem to be
A thin petal yearning
A fragile root silently singing
And a little head so proud though weak
Sweet flower
I don’t get it
Who made those colours
What made those drops
Shining like tears down your leaves
Mourning water dresses of dawn
Crying across a death too strong
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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I met people who did not know
How to pick up a lily
And that its skin breaks under the steel
Of a too long gaze from the mountain top
And that its petal knows nothing of its root
And that the night falls only when it lowers the buds
Thirsty of the sun and the sun's only the wolf's one
Howling at the wounds of a torn out flower
Srela sam ljude koji nisu znali
Kako se bere ljiljan
I da njegova koža puca pod celikom
Suviše dugog pogleda sa vrha planina
I da njegova peteljka ne zna njegov korijen
I da kad spusti latice tek onda padne noc
Žedna sunca a ono samo vucje
Zavija na rane pokidanog cvijeta
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The River 2/Rijeka 2
you sang alone
alone by an autumn made willow
with your face in a shadow of a water drop
and I was flowing
you sang alone
alone by the banks closing in the lap
with the sounds silent on your lips
and I was flowing
and I loved your song
and your face in a shadow of a water drop
and the sounds silent on your lips
that's why I was flowing
ti pjevao si sam
sam kraj jasike od jeseni
s licem u sjeni od vodene kapi
a ja sam tekla
ti pjevao si sam
sam kraj obala sastavljenih u krilu
sa zvucima tihim na usnama
a ja sam tekla
i voljela tvoju pjesmu
i tvoje lice u sjeni od vodene kapi
i zvuke tihe na usnama tvojim
zato sam tekla
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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Your eyes beyond the sky- Tvoje oci iznad neba
your eyes beyond the sky
the most innocent, I know
they will survive
all the burns of the body
and preserve the soul
for - all that you watched
for - the nightmare on the nuclear trash
and the breath left on the split atom
once all these things
will have to take a rest
tvoje oci iznad neba
najnevinije, znam
one ce preživjeti
sve opekotine tijela
i sacuvati dušu
jer - sve što si gledao
jer - nocna mora na nuklearnom otpadu
i dah ostavljen na pocijepanom atomu
sve to jednom morace
da se odmori
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Odgovor Jednoj Tanji
ako je plac oblak-suze su kisa
a sunce je osmijeh.
ovde je sada ljeto
a ljeti posle kise dolazi:
-SUNCE-
a mozda se i ti tako zoves.
i ne placi ako pomenem tvoje ime
jer ti si i sunce i osmjeh i TANJA.
poem by Jankovic Zoran
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We made them dance
This is how I made you
I took the fibres of black
Spread the twinkling of my heart
Across your body
To make the most beautiful night in the world
I spinned it round and round
Made it dance the river dance
Made it dance the morning dance
Made it dance the evening dance
I made it dance
This is how you made me
You took the fibres of red
Spread the beating of your blood
Across my body
To make the most beautiful love in the world
You spinned it round and round
Made it dance the dance of your seed
Made it dance the dance of your touch
Made it dance the dance of your breath
You made it dance
That's why
The eagle was flying
The sea was foaming
The ground was singing
Children were laughing
Fires were burning
Across the hearths
We made them dance
Ovako sam te stvorila
Uzeh tkanice crnog
I prosuh treptaje svog srca niz tvoje tijelo
Da stvorim najljepšu noc ovoga svijeta
Zavrtjeh je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples rijeke
Da pleše ples jutra
Da pleše ples veceri
Da pleše
Ovako si me stvorio
Uze tkanice crvenog
Prosu otkucaj svoje krvi niz moje tijelo
Da stvoriš najljepšu ljubav ovoga svijeta
Zavrtio je ukrug ukrug
Da pleše ples tvog sjemena
Da pleše ples tvog dodira
Da pleše ples tvog daha
Da pleše
I zato je
Orao letio
More se pjenilo
Zemlja je pjevala
Djeca se smijala
I vatre ognjištem gorjele
Oni su plesali zbog nas
2010. (We made them dance)
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Race
Thinking on the childish longings,
Makes me laugh and takes again,
To the golden age when I played,
With the boys of the same size and age,
All we often ran and raced,
To see the end of the ball of the Earth,
Or touch the bending horizon,
Too blue, too near, too clear,
And to attain crimson hue of twilight,
Ah! But returned,
Out of breath with empty hands.
When we played in the meadows green,
The wings of the Moon-soon winds,
Did bring on the plains of the Punjab,
Flocks of clouds thick and dark,
Drifted by shepherds with sticks unseen,
That seemed landing upon the pastures,
We ran and raced under or along,
To possess the lowering object in hands,
Ah! But returned,
Out of breath with empty hands.
Oh! My friends I have been convinced,
To the thought that the floating world,
Is made of vapour or condensed clouds,
For in the days of youth, grown up age,
I ran the race with the faster pace,
After the world but could not catch,
And brought me now to the brim of grave,
Ah! But out of breath with empty hands.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Sign Of Solitude
GN OF SOLITUDE
A lugubrious tree high above the lot,
Yearning for an embrace tight,
It is a sign of solitude.
From the leafy world of forest deep,
A fluttery leaf falls when ripe,
It is a sign of solitude.
A scarlet flower shakes its head
But the wind dooms a petal dead,
It `s a sign of solitude.
A flock of birds among the clouds,
Finding all a bliss to the eyes,
A hunter lurks below on earth,
Aims one down for a wholesome feast,
That is a sign of solitude.
Friendship, kinship and lover's bliss,
Frizzles to mud at death's one kiss.
Jocund jolly friendly men,
Shrinks to viscid pit alone.
So death is a sign of solitude.
Glorious sun who makes us gay,
Is a loner in the Milky Way?
So HE is a sign of solitude.
poem by Sheela Devi
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But I miss you Gran
I miss you so much Gran.
You left me.
And I don't no why.
But i miss you Gran.
I thought you'd be here for ever.
But now you've gone away.
And I miss you Gran.
I wish you could come back.
I can no longer see you.
I can't touch your face or hold your hand.
I can no longer give you a hug and a kiss.
I miss you Gran.
I don't understand why you had to go.
You've gone from this world.
And I miss you Gran.
I wish you were here.
A friendly face you alwys had.
Words of wisdom you would give.
But I miss you Gran.
My heart is breaking.
I just hope you no that I loved you.
I miss you Gran I really miss you.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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At Twilights Beyond The Fields / U Sutonima Iznad Polja
My shadow will reappear
Whispering for long among the spikes
Turning the pages of light
Among the sunflowers
Homelessly dream under the bridges
Outstretch the hand of a beggar
Spread the hands of a child
To make an embrace
Among the clouds with wings so light
My hair will spread
Undone in the lelek of the beginning
Entangled in the treetops
The fire lit within the ring
Will kill me in the hunger of the quest
Note: lelek (Serbian) – screams of mourning
U sutonima iznad polja
Vaskrsnuce opet moja sjen
I dugo klasjem saputati
Medj suncokretima okretati
Stranice svjetlosti
Pod mostovima beskucno sniti
Ispruziti ruke prosjaka
Rasiriti ruke djeteta
Ne bi li bio zagrljaj
Medj oblacima lakokrila
Sirice se moja kosa
Raspletena lelekom pocetka
Zapletena u krosnjama
U obrucu zapaljena vatra
Umorice me gladju traganja
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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The Petal Game
pick a flower
to play the petal game
pluck a petal
he loves me
pluck a petal
I don't love him
pluck a petal
he keeps getting closer
pluck a petal
I keep pushing him away
pluck a petal
he is always around me
pluck a petal
I hide away from him
pluck a petal
he is always protecting me
pluck a petal
I just punch him in the gut
pluck a petal
he never seems to get it
pluck a petal
I really hate his guts
pluck a petal
he just really bugs me
pluck a petal
I need a new flower now
pick a flower
to play the petal game
poem by Amber Lyn Charneski
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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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Everyday I Feel That I Am Slowly Buried
i try to wake up and rise from my lowly state
and every hour that you face me i feel like a small turtle
in my silence beside the still river and you speak and explain
and argue like the wind and the leaves and the clouds
everyday when i am with you i feel like am being buried everyday
layer and layer of sand and pebbles and stones and twigs
and branches and heaps of leaves
i am losing my art of breathing and i am beginning to accept the fact
that you have the capacity to lose me
the world shrinks and the river becomes deeper
the view around me is crowded and dark and i look for you
i call for you and you are no longer there
sometimes i need to redefine love when companionship loses the grip
of hands.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dreamt of in a thought (Nafaka)
we are all made of words
fragile sewing
we are all made of stars
shiny sewing
we are all made of stone
solid endlessly
we are all made
of a grass leave
seen by the matter
we are all made of breath
endlessly breathing
we are all made of waiting
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
dreamt of in a thought
od rijeci smo svi
sasiveni krhko
od zvijezda smo svi
sjajem obrubjeni
od kamena smo svi
cvrstinom u nedogled
od travke smo svi
sagledani u tvar
od daha smo svi
disanjem u nedogled
od cekanja smo svi
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
mislju odsanjani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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