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
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Related quotes
Gone/Nestao
gone for a single trace
a simple touch to reach an edge
gone for a single spell
a total truth sought within those eyes
the sages looked and could not bear
to take this weakness for the strong whole light
nestao za jedan trag
dodir prost da stigne do ruba
nestao za jedan izricaj
potpna istina trazena u onim ocima
mudraci su pogedali i nisu mogli podnijeti
da ovu slabost shvate kao snagu cjelovitog svjetla
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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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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…da Tek Si Pjesnik
Spram riječi nag
Proljeća vjesnik
Spram stope trag
Zeleno sliven u jedan stih
Da jesen zna ljubav ti bih
Što grli grumen
Zemljani prah
Kroz sunčan rumen
Vrelog ljeta dah
Da diše promrzle usnule zime
I nikad ne takne od leda ti ime
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Ban The Void
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Grandma stopped baking cakes.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Brought me my first heartbreak.
Tch.
Ban the void.
I told her I couldn't take it.
She 'had' to bake another cake for me!
Tch.
Ban the void.
She said she was going on strike!
Tch.
Ban the void.
And even though I didn't like it!
Tch.
Ban the void.
She's not gonna cook in the kitchen,
She's itching to do something else to please!
Tch
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
She brought herself a brand new car.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
And drove to wherever she wanted.
Tch.
Ban the void.
She said she had her own special needs.
And will come and go whenever that need pleases!
Tch.
Ban the void.
I got so annoyed...
And I tried to stop that void deep down in me!
Oh...
Ban the void!
I couldn't go to sleep!
I dreamt of grandma's baking,
And it teased me!
I even cried my eyes.
But grandma's sweet potato pie kept creepin'.
Oh...
Ban the void!
Ban the void!
Oh...
Ban the void.
Grandma loved her brand new car.
And never got one ticket,
For her speedin'!
Ban the void.
Tch.
Ban the void.
Tch, tch.
Ban the void.
Oh...
Dedicated To:
In loving memory...
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar
'Miss you, grandma! '
Love,
Larry
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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O tebi
O tebi ne govorim ljudima jer shvatili ne bi
O tebi govorim
Tek listu kad lomno padne na tlo
Sumraku kad te razlije u boje
I rubu ponornog sjećanja mog
Tek tmini kada progovori glasno
Suzu prolomljenu u dnu crnog oka
Što kanuti neće nikad
Tek vratima odškrinutim i odjeku koraka
Zalutalim pragovima što kuće svoje traže
Otkucaju srca i posljednjom mrežom
Zahvaćenu vodu što kroz konope
Nazad u izvor lije
O tebi ljepoto moja
Ne govorim ni tebi
Jer čak ni ti shvatio ne bi
Da s površine riječi ništa se ne kreće
I ništa u dubine vratiti se neće
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Water traces-Vodeni spomenik
Like a curtain of rain
That the hand will never
Be able to move it away
Not even when the eye opens up a drop
Like pools full of thoughts
Dissolving amidst the fall
A sound of the first thunder
Removed from the cloud
With the lightning the fire in hand
The thought dying alone on the breath
Our breathing it breathes
The islands are painting the waters
The waters are painting the skies
The skies are painting out faces
Are we just- the water traces
Vodeni spomenik
Kao zavjesa od kiše
Što ruka je nikad
S prozora skloniti neće
Čak ni kada oko otvori kapi
Kao bazen prepun misli
Što se rastvara sred pada
S oblaka smaknut zvuk prvog groma
S munjom s vatrom u ruci
Hladna kiša prži mi dah
Na dahu riječ obamrla sama
Našim disanjem diše
Ostrva slikaju vode
Vode slikaju neba
Neba nam slikaju lik
Da li smo samo-vodeni spomenik?
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Stradanja hram
daj mi moja dušo bijele vode znanja
u kaplji nastanjen tvoj tihi plam
daj mi moja dušo niti tvoga tkanja
da ispletem riječi i da tako znam
da život ide jednom
a smrt stazom drugom
u traganju žednom
i zasut tugom
ja sam
stradanja hram
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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
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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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Single Is Fair
Single
I am single
Question of double
Does not arise.
I am single
Only single.
Single sun
Single moon
Single earth
Single air
Single sky
Sngle water
Single fire
Single soul
Single body
All are there
All are fair.
Single is single
Single is beautiful
Single is fair.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Poet's Fate
by Mohan Rana
Were this light even whiter
you and I would be invisible
we each would live our invisible pain
never knowing
the absence of joy
Stunned by that void
into which shadows vanish
forms dissolve
falling, we would imagine flying
without a sky
Only sounds
reach the surviving memory
no need for introductions
The poet's fate
poetry's fate
together
just a breath
[The literal translation of this poem was made by Lucy Rosenstein
The final translated version of the poem is by The Poetry Translation Workshop]
poem by Mohan Rana
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If I am the dropp the morning conceived
Let me be that water oh beautiful
That comes to your lip and makes you heart speak
That leaks through its holes into the world
Where the world is but a place to be
Next to your smile and close to your hand
Hugging the edges of dawn
Hear me there say the moment will rise
To time void of flow and eyes void of tears
In memory blue at the door of paradise
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Language of Translation
What could be a better language than the language of translation
A white curtain on which
All our handiwork stands apart like dirt
All crimes are perpetrated in mother tongues
Which always contain a discourse on innocence
There are times
When translation is the only place that has a remnant of sorts
The sound of tyranny in the native tongue
Is killing sympathy!
(Translated from Hindi by Bharatbhooshan Tiwari)
poem by Asad Zaidi
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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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Elements of Life
My mind is
a studio.
Always different
projects taking place.
Art, Dance,
Poetry, and Music.
Elements told in
different ways.
The art is
my creativity.
The expansion
of my mind.
The dancing is
what makes me stable.
To keep my mind
from running wild.
The poetry
hits hard.
Unleashing the emotions
locked away inside me.
The music is the
thoughts that i storm up.
To tell of my
understandings
These are the
elements that make
up my culture
And my culture
will not die
These are the
Elements that
makes me.
These are my
Elements of life.
poem by Edward Rios
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Inclusive
One
In two
Dialogue essence plays
Tragic tetrax piece played
Open curtains smile epilogue greets
Made-up actors’ masks outplayed life stands
Seven drops of wisdom one- in -two an answer
Jedan
U dvoma
Igra suštinu dijaloga
Tragič nim tetraksom odigran komad
Osmjeh raširenih zavjesa pozdravlja epilog
Maske našminkanih glumaca život nadigran stoji
Sedam kapi mudrosti jedan u dvoma odgovor
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A translation is no translation, he said, unless it will give you the music of a poem along with the words of it.
quote by John Millington Synge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opening to Inhale
Gases are not solids when inhaled,
Opening is closing, joking is laughing.
To close I think it awkward,
To open I might revolve and learn all politeness.
The inhalation of the air is breathing,
When do atoms mix, and compounds form
From the synod of elements chiming like beauty?
Little with fate as I, much more to do with the matter.
Gas is to be inspiring a volume of completeness,
The solids and liquids divide the space around,
The void is a vacuum of height and brevity.
It will soon know how to reside in torment,
In torment is the vacuum of the void.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Come beauty come/ Dodi ljepoto dodi
The moon hurtful beyond the earth
Biting the midnight hour
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The night is never old
The sunlit glow beyond the earth
Burning the desert soil
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The day is never old
The waters below the roar of the sky
Soothed in a dropp through the sea
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
The ocean is never old
The air the seal of breathing
Rising the circles through the wind
Spills the quivering made of light
To summon the whole into a song
Come beauty come
For life is never old
Mjesec bolan nad zemljom
Što grize ponocni sat
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Noc ne stari nikad
I suncev sjaj nad zemljom
Što morem se slegnu u kap
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Da prizove sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Dan ne stari nikad
Vode pod hukom neba
Što morem se slegnu u kap
Prospu drhtaj od svjetla
Da prozovu sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodji
Okean ne stari nikad
Vazduh disanja pecat
Što krugove vjetrom diže
Prosipa drhtaj od svjetla
Da prizove sve u poj
Dodi ljepoto dodi
Život ne stari nikad
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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