The Light Of Day/Svjetlosni Dan
The thing standing by the well
Is not looking for a song
It wants a beat an echo and a fall
It wants a bottom bucket rope the water
It wants the hands that can find the way
To an abyss treasure and the light of day
Što kraj bunara stoji ne traži pjesmu
Ono hoće otkucaj eho jednog pada
Ono hoće dno vedro konop vodu
Ono hoće ruke koje znaju put
Do ponornog blaga i svjetlosnog dana
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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a place untouched by a thought (Nafaka)
out of it the tree grows
a mountain will rise with me?
a twilight will sing with me?
through the windows of open restlessness
a piece of sense where will it go
stop the guitars
so that the darkness can sing
the music of sphere
mislju je dotaknuto mjesto iz koga raste drvo nade
hoce li samnom narasti planina
hoce li samnom propjevati sumrak
u prozore otvorenog nemira
kriska smisla dokle ce stici
zaustavi gitare
da zasvira tmina
citaoce
muziku sfera
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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 Room/Soba
The room the dropp of space
Inhabited by the dwelling mistrust
A grain four dimensioned pushed
Into time as if pushed into an hour
That tick tock possessed by
The sound of its own rhythm
Crosses the limits into an endless over itself
It wants eternity immortality
The root of each a-prefix
Obliteration of oppositions
Endlessly sharpened into the hints
Of each existence where there exists
Endlessly crossed
The room cannot be corners overstepping
It's got its depth the magic power of the center
Matrix of a metropolis cube
Its own soul crying for a mother
The room the mythrix of the outcast of delivery
Evenly creates the sharp lines of writtenness
Within its own creation
Without a single dropp of fear
Of closed space
Soba
Soba kap prostora u koji ulazi nepovjerenje stanovanja
Četvrtom dimenzijom survan grumen u vrijeme
Ko u sat što tik tak ophrvan opsjednut
Zvukom sopstvenog ritma opkoračuje granice
Teži u beskraj preko samog sebe
Hoće vječnost besmrtnost hoće korijen svakog a-prefiksa
Ukidanje suprotnosti neizmjerno izoštrenih
U obrise svakog postojanja
Kojim se postoji raspeto do iznemoglosti
Soba ne može biti premošćivanje uglova
Ona ima dubinu magičnu moć centra
Matrix kocke metropolu sopstvene duše
Što za majkom jauče
Soba je 'mitriks' na kojoj odrod radjanja
Ujednačeno tvori oštre linije iscrtanosti
U sopstvenom tvorenju bez kapi straha
Od zatvorenog prostora
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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The Dawn Lifted The Fogs From The Ground
And it didn’t find my song
The day spread beyond the waters
Opened the flowers of breathing
Moved the murmurs of life
But it didn’t find my song
And the dead lips spoke
The language of graveyard stones
The dead lips san through the dusk
But they didn’t find my song
The night dropped the fogs on the ground
But it didn’t find my song
Zora je podigla magle sa zemlje
Ali nije pronasla moju pjesmu
Dan se raskrilio nad vodama
Otvorio latice disanja
Pokrenuo zamore zivota
I nije pronasao moju pjesmu
Usne su mrtve progovorile
Jezikom groblja kamnim
Usne mrtve suton pjevale
Ali nisu pronasle moju pjesmu
I noc je spustila magle na zemlju
Ali nije pronasla moju pjesmu
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Misty Hidden Of Mine/Moje Magleno Skriveno
In the daybreak song
Will take the forests into an embrace
My never hoped for
Heartbeat cut off the heart
Will spill the walls into a midnight sound
Mine within the chains treasure in my hands
Will toll cursed from the towers
Sadly the song of awakening
Into the deafness
Mine into nothing flooded water
A current beginning into an endless
Will cut the seams and sew
A new array for the soul's nakedness
Mine on my palm colourful lonely butterfly
Moving the wings like eaves in the tempest
Maddened by the possibility of flight
My never enough overcome dawn
In an empty bad
Where I am enfolded up to the point of no recognition
Mine sharpened pencils
Regularly waiting for the words
Will be broken halved in them
Mine from fatigue cracked mirror
That each morning I feed with a smile
Twinkling yearning for the truth
Mine long time ago lost waiting
On the benches below the trees
Despair chained
Prever quoted ages of circles
On my skins
Digging the death memory
Mine after forty days black nails uncut
digging the memory of death
Mine encircled in the dewdrops of crying eyelashes
Which silently I close
With the soul limited sight
Mine sealed lips
Quivering of love
To you I will surrender God
To judge and please forgive
Moje magleno skriveno
Pjesmom praskozorja
Odvešć e šume u zagrljaj
Moje nenadano od srca
Otkinuto kucanje
Pretoč ić e zidove u otkucaj ponoć i
Moje u rukama zatoč eno blago
Prokleto zvonić e sa zvonika
Tužno pjesmu buđ enja
U nedosluhu
Moja u ništa otplavljena voda
Poč etkom oticanja u beskraj
Odagnać e rubove i sašiti
Nove odore za nagost duše
Moj na dlanu šareni usamljeni leptir
Klepeć e ko streha na buri
Sluđ en moguć nošć u leta
Moje nikad prežaljeno svitanje
U postelji praznoj
U kojoj se umotavam do neraspoznavanja
Moje od umora napukmo ogledalo
Koje svakog jutra osmjehom hranim
Istine gladna iskrič avost
Moje naoštrene olovke
Koje uredno č ekaju riječ i
Pokidać e se u njima
Moje davno izgubljeno č ekanje
Po klupama ispod drveć a
Zarobljeni oč aj
Preverom citirana starost godova
Na mojoj koži
Moji poslije č etrdeset dana
Pocrnjeli nepodšišani nokti
Kojima kopam sjeć anje na smrt
Moje rosom plakanja omeđ ene trepavice
Koje tiho obaram sklapam
S pogledom omeđ enim dušom
Moje zapeč ać ene usne
Koje podrhtavaju od ljubavi
Tebi dać u Bože
Da sudiš i molim te oprostiš
©Miroslava Odalović ,2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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His Depth
when the rope with a pail was lowered
to get some water
there was none, and the
rope was only about two meters long
what was loud was the
echo of the pail banging
the muddy bottom
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bucket T
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass
All the girls want to take a ride with me
But theres only one seat in my bucket t
[chorus]
song performed by by Who
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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A dropp of ocean
...will never learn the hands that have swum it
unless it is taught tears to cry
kap okeana nikada nece nauciti ruke koje su ga preplivale
osim ako ga ne naucimo da place
C circle Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's written in here/Ovdje pise
It's written in here all that hurts
it's written in here all that laughs
it's written in here all that wants
it's written in here all that waits
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all
it's written in here butterflies in heart
it's written in here all dresses torn
it's written in here twilight and dawn
it's written in here clocks in the soul
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all
ovdje piše sve što boli
ovdje piše sve što se smije
ovdje piše sve što hoće
ovdje piše sve što čeka
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne ćitaj uopšte
ovdje piše leptiri u srcu
ovdje piše rašivene halje
ovdje piše zore i sutoni
ovdje piše satovi u duši
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne čitaj uopšte
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Bucket Of Water
One bucket of water
Razed the city to ashes.
One bucket of water
Could not quench the fire
Blazing from the town's
Central pump.
One bucket of water
A man held, jumped the
Queue to the pump.
One bucket of water
At the pump, about to
Collect water, resisted.
They stared each other
In the eye. Their tribal
Marks were different.
They threw caution to
The winds. Including
All buckets on the line.
Everyone queued behind
Their tribal marks. And
The city burnt through its
Length and breath. Death
Sprung out of life. And life
Spilled out of the bucket.
poem by Adeoye Adetoba
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Between the two lights/Izmedju dvije svjetlosti
I appreciate your instant reply
I judge-it's not correct
For the thing shivering in my heart
Will never know for the fall on the knees
Nor will the thing banging in my head
Ever find an echo on my tongue
I laugh because you know
I laugh because you don't know
The bridges are the hands in the air
Beyond the banks which have grown into a canyon
Like words in touch with the trembling
I laugh because you know
Because you know this is what you don't know
Stuck within a comparison
Between the two lights
Cijenim tvoj instant odgovor
Prosuđujem - nije tačan
Jer što mi kleca u srcu
Ne zna za pad na koljena
I što mi puca u glavi
Na jeziku nema eha
Ja se smijem jer ti znaš
Ja se smijem jer ti ne znaš
Mostovi su ruke u vazduhu
Nad obalama što su izrasle u tjesnac
Kao riječi u dosluhu sa strepnjom
Ja se smijem jer ti znaš
Jer ti znaš da to ne znaš
Zaglavljen u poredjenju
Izmedju dvije svjetlosti
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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black tangle heart
Maybe your luck has changed
Settle down
Maybe I'm just deranged
And on the rebound
Maybe love was the thing
Holding me back from all
Maybe I'm just the thing
To break my own fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Maybe departure's good
Makes room for more
Start to mass produce
For a chance to ignore
Maybe you'll kill yourself
Before I get a turn
Maybe I'll fall in love
And never learn
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
song performed by by Silverchair from neon ballroom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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black tangled heart
Maybe your luck has changed
Settle down
Maybe I'm just deranged
And on the rebound
Maybe love was the thing
Holding me back from all
Maybe I'm just the thing
To break my own fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Maybe departure's good
Makes room for more
Start to mass produce
For a chance to ignore
Maybe you'll kill yourself
Before I get a turn
Maybe I'll fall in love
And never learn
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
Take the rope to my heart and fall
You may just be the last before you
See the black tangled heart fall
song performed by by Silverchair from neon ballroom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The river-Rijeka
search the river upstream
search the river downstream
the river bed is looking for me
traži rijeku uzvodno
traži rijeku nizvodno
rijeka me koritom traži
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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