This World Is Not Conclusion, By Emily Dickinson
This world is not a matter
A dead transition from an earth into a breath
From a breath into an earth
This world unmeasured by an eye
Is neither a view through a magnifying glass
Nor winking at sense
This world is not a game
Of a small and big intelligence
This world a strange link
Despite the chains
Won't go into a circle
Ovaj svijet nije tvar
Mrtvi prelazak iz zemlje u dah
Iz daha u zenlju
Ovaj svijet okom nesagledan
Nije pogled kroz uvecano staklo
Ni namigivanje smislu
Ovaj svijet nije igra
Male i velike pameti
Ovaj svijet karika cudna
Lancima u inat
Nece u krug
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Last night
Last night I asked the drop
what nobody had dared to ask before
I said
come on, isn't it time you washed my face
isn't it time you stopped falling in tears
isn't it time for me to drink you
isn't it time for you to touch me
isn't it time for me to see the world within you
come on, what are you waiting for
why don't you finally fall down
that was the rage of a dead chicken
Sinoc sam rekla kaplji
sto joj niko ranije nije smio reci
rekla sam
hajde, nije li vrijeme da me umijes
nije li vrijeme da suzom prestanes
nije li vrijeme da te popijem
nije li vrijeme da dotaknes
nije li vrijeme da u tebi sagledam svijet
hajde sta cekas
zasto vec jednom prosto ne kanes
bio je to bijes mrtvog pileta
Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Širokosa/Blond Beyond The Sun
Plavi se iznad sunca
Ko brijeg širok poljima snivam
Kosa raspletena nad osmjehom zore
Ovaj svijet više nije tajna
Jer Isterom gonjen rašiva halje obalastoj misli
Nad pregrštima
Raste ko klasjem ispleteno
Novo runo jagnje i bjelina
I plavi se iznad sunca
Ko široko more i svetionici
Rašivena halja
Blond beyond the sun
Like a wide hill dreamt of by the fields
The hair untied above the smile of dawn
The world is no longer a secret
For chased by Ister
It tears the dresses to the bank-like thought
Beyond the armfuls it grows
As if entangled in spikes
A new fur a lamb and the whiteness
And it's blond beyond the sun
Likes wide seas and the lighthouses
A torn dress
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sorry sorry
no road for this map
no train for this ticket
I've got nothing
sorry sorry
the colours for this dawn I still haven't found
the libreto for this twilight I still haven't written
neither the most difficult sonnet in the world
for an angel asleep
nor a drama for a lonely sideroad tree
a fragile shelter
sorry sorry
no road for this map
no ticket for this train
I've got nothing
za ovaj put nemam mapu
za ovu kartu nemam voz
nemam ništa
sorry sorry
za ovo svitanje još nisam pronašla boje
za ovaj sumrak još nisam napisala libreto
ni najteži sonet na svijetu
za usapavanog anđela
ni dramu za usamljeno drvo krajputaša
sklonište krhko
sorry sorry
za ovaj put nemam mapu
za ovaj voz nemam kartu
nemam ništa
2009.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The world/Svijet
the world multiplied by division
the world multiplied by division
the world the world multiplied by
division multiplied the world
multiplied by division by division
the the world the world multiplied
by division the multiplied world
by division world multiplied by division
svijet dijeljenjem umnozen
svijet dijeljenjem umnozen
svijet svijet dijeljenjem umnozen svijet
dijeljenjem umnozen dijeljenjem um
svijet d svijet dijeljenjem umnozen
dijeljenjem svijet dijeljenjem umnozen
svijet dijeljenjem svijet
dijeljenjem umnozen umnozen
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In(t) act/In(t) aktan
2 D modelled
Intro instrumental
No rage no against
Just machine
The world stays in(t) act
In a 2D wired bird
The world stays (un) real(ized)
In a 2 D wired guitar
Who's playing
2D modelovan
Intro instrumental
Nema bijesa nema protiv
Samo mašina
Svijet ostaje in(t) aktan
U 2D ožičenoj ptici
Svijet ostaje (ne) (o) stvar(en)
U 2D ožičenoj gitari
Ko svira
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ponekad - Sometimes
Ponekad su umjesto jutra
Kroz guste magle mudračkih kosa
Osvitale kiše
Kapci otvarali nova pitanja
I sasvim nova nedorečenost
Preturala po smislu
Ja hodah sama
Sred šumovitosti
Razgolićenih šaka
Zgrabio me svijet
Sometimes instead of the morning
There dawned the rains
Through the mists of the sages' hairs
The ezelids would open new questions
And an entirely new unuttereness
Roamed through the sense
I walked alone
Amidst the forests
With nakedf hands
Grabbed by the worlds
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Someone Not You/Neko Ko Nije Ti
someone not you
someone not me
someone not us
someone long ago
somewhere quite close
they weaved the curse
someone long ago
somewhere quite close
they dug a grave
someone not you
someone not me
they know
who that was
who within us
slapped the dawn
neko ko nije ti
neko ko nije ja
neki koji nisu mi
neko nekada davno
negdje sasvim blizu nas
ispleo je kob
neko nekada davno
negdje sasvim blizu nas
kopao je grob
neko ko nije ti
neko ko nije ja
zna
ko su ti
koji su u nama
osamarili svitanje
1993.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Needs-Potreba
some people need a deep thought
with which to embrace the world
some people need a stone
as deceptive as a sculptor's shadow
some people need the water
with which to bathe the memory
there within against the depth of a secret
life has drowned
nekome je potrebna duboka misao
da njome zagrli svijet
drugima kamen varljiv ko vajareva sjena
trećima je potrebna voda
da njome okupaju sjećanje
u kom se spram dubine tajne
utopio život
1996.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let me be today (Nafaka)
Tomorrow I will die
There’s still some time to go
Let go of me today
There’s a sky I’ve got to kiss
Tomorrow I will cry
Today I’ve got to seize the day
It’ll slip away into oblivion
Today I’ve got to step out of the circle
It’s not my time to leave
To drag the soul out of the shells
I want to know everything
But this is not the day to ask
Let go of me today
I need to be one with everything
I’ll part some other day
Let go of me one more day
It’s not my time yet
I’ll die another one
NEKA ME DANAS
umrijecu sutra
ima jos vremena
Pustite me danas
moram da poljubim nebo
plakacu sutra
danas treba da uhvatim dan
skliznuce u zaborav
Danas moram da izadjem iz kruga
nije mi jos vrijeme da odem
da izvucem dusu iz skoljki
Hocu sve da znam
ali nije dan da pitam
Neka me danas
treba da se stopim
rastacu se nekog drugog dana
Pustite me jos danas
nije mi jos vrijeme
umrijecu neki drugi put
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Heraclitus Fr.30
The world is becoming the bruise in my heart
The desert skin wearing the burns of the dark
The burns of the light
It’s placed in the accords of infliction
The thought of the rain and wind the volcano and the grain
A re-creation of endless circles
The spheric cages of the sky and earth
Dressed in moss my chilly waitings are
The soul of the north freezes my breath
Reality swallowed in a piece of question
Infinitely pushes the edges of the fall
The finite stuck within a dream
Where have I heard the eternal rhythm of the tribe
The beating of the earth within its step
The breathing of the water dripping down
The walls of the caves
Where have I seen the volcano lava
From the centre of nothing into the infinite
The flame was singing instead of me
From secret to secret lit up died out
Peaceful fires of order
Among which I burned
Written in 1995.
Svijet mi postaje modrica na srcu
Koža pustinje sa opekotinom od mraka
Sa opekotinom od svjetla
Staje u akorde stradanja
Misao kiše i vjetra vulkana i grumena
Ponovno stvaranje beskrajnih kružnica
Kružni kavezi zemlje i neba
Obrasla mahovinom ledna mi č ekanja
Sjeverna duša ledi mi dah
Pod kriškom pitanja progutana stvarnost
U nedogled gura rubove pada
Gdje se u konač nost sabija san
Otkud sam č ula vječ ni ritam plemena
Otkucaj zemlje u njegovim stopama
Disanje vode u iskapavanju
Sa zidova peć ina
Otkud sam vidjela lavine vulkana
Iz grotla nič eg u beskraj
Umjesto mene pjevao je plamen
Iz tajne u tajnu palila se gasila
Mirna svjetla poretka
Izmeđ u njih gorjela sam ja
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That's not it-To nije to
Excuse me sir
You look like someone I've met before
And I am sure it is like that
I'm sure everyone has met everyone before
In what's called preceding lives
Do you believe in that sir
I mean those karmas
Moving along cyclic zodiacs
Made of illiterate stars
Sounds quite familiar to me
A life through trials and errors
I think sir
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
(Do not worry you don't have to give me any
Of your monthly revenue
I am not that kind of a beggar)
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
And look at those divinely entangled lines
So cryptic
That are supposed to determine my fate
I think there's got to be some mistake there
That they are not there to determine me
But to tell me that this palm belongs to me only
That I am just like you sir
A creature born once a creature divine
Unrepeatable and free
For most when I outstretch the palm of my hand
To see my own geometry of the universe
Or to turn it into a fist
To strike the face of Fortune
Then I think sir
For sure we've all met before
In the faces of Adam and Eve
Hitting their foreheads against the ground
Once they vaguely hinted the Heaven is perhaps
Nothing but a wholeness of a soul in unity with its Creator
And Hell the lack of the same thing
Yes I am sure we've met before
In the face of Christ crucified on the cross
That redeemed us through his blood
For a dream in which an Idiot
Will not have to find a compartment
In which he would, with a roomful of thoughts
In his head just like me right now,
He would not have to repeat
That's not it that's not it until he cannot
Thinking perhaps about those marbles of lifeful life
Whose glimmer fades away once they break out on the surface
To dry in the fire of their own eyes
Thinking that's not it that's not it
Meaning perhaps those insipid theories
Endlessly talked about in a leisure
Of some nice first class trains
Journey through Switzerland
Theories endlessly repeated at some nice
Comfortable places just on a pass by through life
In a conversation with an art dealer
Theories made official through some nicely polished clear expression
So clear that one could die of clarity
And nothing would be said about an idiot
Sir we look so far away
So far away from Adam that's been met before lying in our bones
The way the trains suicidely lie on the rails of expulsion
So far away from Eve and her snake
Winding like a steam of a train
Of a great invention that has perhaps only been brained out
So that an Idiot in a first class train
Travelling through Switzerland
Could keep repeating that's not it that's not it
We look so far away from them
And still keep hitting our foreheads against the ground
That's not it that's not it sir
Sorry for stopping you
What I actually wanted to ask you is
Which street we're in
And if you know what my name is
And if it's ever too late to know ourselves
(Note: Idiot, a novel by Fjodor Michailowitsch Dostojewski)
To nije to
Izvinite gospodine
Izgledate kao neko koga sam vec srela
I sigurno je tako
Sigurno smo sreli
U onome što zovu prethodnim životima
Vjerujete li vi u to
Mislim u te karme
Što se krecu po ciklicnim zodijacima
Nastalih od nepismenih zvijezda
Jedan zivot putem pokušaja i pogrešaka
Zvuci mi sasvim poznato
Mislim gospodine
To znate kada ispružim dlan
(ne brinite nista ne morate da mi date
Od svog mjesecnog prihoda
Ja nisam takva prosjakinja
Kada ispružim dlan
I pogledam sve te linije
Božanstveno isprepletene i kripticne
Koje treba da mi odrede sudbinu
Mislim da tu postoji neka greška
Da one nisu tu da me odrede
Vec da mi kažu da ovaj dlan
Pripada samo meni
Da sam kao i vi gospodine
Jednom rodena božanska
Neponovljiva i slobodna licnost
I to najviše onda kada ispružim dlan
Da vidim sopstvenu geometriju svemira
Ili kada ga stisnem u pesnicu
Ne bih li zadala udarac Fortuni
Ja mislim gospodine
Da sasvim sigurno svi smo se vec negdje sreli
U licu Adama i Eve što lupaju celom u zemlju
Kad naslutili su da raj možda nije ništa drugo
Do cjelovitost duše sa njenim Tvorcem
A pakao nedostatak iste
Da sasvim sigurno
Svi smo se vec jednom sreli
U licu Hrista raspetog na krstu
Što krvlju nas svojom uvijek iznova iskupljuje
Za san u kome jedan Idiot
Nece morati da pronadje kupe
U kom bi sa punom sobom misli
Baš kao ja sad do iznemoglosti ponavljao
To nije to to nije to
Misleci možda na rijeci klikere živog života
Što gube sjaj kada isplivaju na površinu
Da se suše u vatri sopstvenih ociju
Misleci na to nije to to nije to
Misleci možda na ucmale teorije života
Što se ispredaju dokono u finim vozovima
Prve klase u prolazu kroz Švajcarsku
I ponavljaju sve po nekim finim udobnim mjestima
U prolazu kroz život
U razgovoru sa trgovcem umjetnickih djela
Ozvanicene putem nekog finog ispoliranog jasnog izraza
Toliko jasnog da ce da se umre od razgovjetnosti
A ništa o Idiotu nece reci
Kako smo daleko gospodine
Kako smo daleko od tog Adama
Što sretosmo ga ranije u kosti nam ulego
Onako kao vozovi samoubilacki leže
Na šinama izgnanosti
Daleko od te Eve i njene zmije
Što se izvija kao para voza
Velikog izuma
Koji je možda izmozgan samo da jedan Idiot
U finom vozu prve klase na putovanju kroz Švajcarsku
Tiho ponavljao to nije to to nije to
Kako samo izgledamo daleko od njih
A i dalje lupamo celom o zemlju
To nije to to nije to gospodine
Izvinite što sam vas zaustavila
U stvari sam samo htjela da vas pitam
U kojoj sam sada ulici
Dali možda znate kako se zovem
I dali je ikada kasno da spoznamo sebe
Napomena: Idiot, roman Fjodora Mihailovica Dostojevskog
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Imati Ili Biti?
odlič ni video. kaj velite dal vam je dobra ova kineska sakralna arhitektura? i ovi ninje koji se bore iznutra?
Jeste li gledali ovaj film? : cerek: Prekrasan je, ako niste, obavezno pogledajte. Ja sam ga dvaput gledala.
Što se tič e ploč a i ja volim č uti pucketanje, ali u ovom vremenu trke i frke jedva imam vremena i za kompjutersko slušanje muzike. Ne mogu da nađ em iglu za moj gramofon.: tuzni:
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And that the thought was just another day/I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan
And that the thought was just another day
No one has said as yet
An unsaid one that cracks with the boughs
Still being dawned for a day to be
I knew for
The outbreak slippery among the fingers
Pours down the beads of sunbeams through the clouds
No one has said as yet
The sides of the world folded on a sheet of paper
An origami of unspreadedness
Unwritten hours sealed in emptiness
On the first geometry class where we will learn
We're perhaps a square with headless points
Marked ABCD
In an alphabet of beheaded words
No one has said as yet no one has dared
The distant counting of Euclid's vows
Xenon's accounts and Pythagoras' secrets
Hung around the neck of a bird
That due to gold of knowledge cannot fly
No one has shaped as yet
A mathematical axiom at the top part of an operational table
Edged by formulae algorhithms
By which Reason the mother of order
Protectively hides the chaos of the possible
We'll be silent about the tents
Under which we've hidden security particles
Precious dust of knowledge in the urn light we'll store
We'll be silent about the warm blankets of thoughts
Covering dreams in an early morning
The marbles of small deceptions the spherical many colouring
We could be stolen them all
And to stand like nothing facing the loveless world
Only Love can do
Who we've never been enough
I da je misao bila još samo jedan dan
Niko rekao nije
Nedorečen što s granjem puca
A za riječ osvanut znala sam jer
Svanuće klizavo medj prstima
Brojanice sunčevih zraka kroz oblake sipa
Niko nije rekao
Na listu papira presavijene stranice svijta
Origami neotklopljenosti
Neispisivanjem sati zapečaćen u prazno
Na prvom času geometrije gdje saznaćemo
Da možda smo samo naučen kvadrat obezglavljenih tjemena
Obilježenih ABVG
Azbukom odrubljene riječi
Niko nije rekao niko nije smio
Daleka prebrojavanja Euklidovih zavjeta
Zenonovih računa Pitagorinih tajni
O vrat ptice obješenih
Što od zlata znanja otežala ne može da leti
Niko nije oblikovao
Matematički aksiom na vrhu operacionog stola
Oivičen formulama algoritmima
Kojim Razum majka reda vješto prikriva
Haos mogućeg
Prećutaćemo šatore pod kojim
Skrili smo truni sigurnosti
Dragocjeni prah saznanja u urnu laku pohraniti
Prećutaćemo toplu ćebad misli
U rano jutro snom pokriveni
Klikere sitnih obmana male šarene sferičnosti
Sve bi mogli nam ukrasti
A stajati k'o ništa spram svijeta bez ljubavi
Može samo Ljubav
Koja nikad dovoljno nismo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The world is eaten away on my lips (Nafaka)
Through the cracks of speech
I’ll shoot at the sky
Some limits can take some rest beyond
I’ll sheaf my hair
I’ll cross my arms
And whisper
Here I am
MOJE USNE RASTACU SVIJET
U PUKOTINAMA GOVORA
PROSTRIJELICU NEBO
DA SE NA NJEMU ODMORE GRANICE
KOSU VEZACU U SNOPOVE
RUKE PREKRSITI
I SAPUTATI
TU SAM
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wreath Of A Child
aimed at those who turned his world
into a fetish doll
pinned by needles
each part of his innocent body
with an apple in his hand
he'll hit the Moon one day
I'm sure he'll hit the Moon
a piece of a mad chaos
the scream of this child
is the scream of a dead chicken
but the Moonbeams
Moonbeams are not deaf
they'll hear
bijes djeteta okomljen na one
što mu svijet pretvoriše u fetiš lutku
probodenu iglama u
svaki djelić njegovog nevinog tijela
jabukom iz ruke hitnuć e Mjesec
sigurna sam hitnuć e Mjesec
komad poludjelog haosa
krik djeteta je bijes mrtvog pileta
ali zrake Mjeseca
zrake Mjeseca nisu gluve
č uć e
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Everyone Everywhere
At the end of the day,
there's no food on our plate.
So we beg and we steal,
for we know love is real.
And if we don't take a chance,
in a spare sideways glance.
These are all the chains I wanted,
to justify the things I do.
And when we kiss we speak as one,
and in a single breath this world is gone.
And when we kiss we speak as one.
With a single breath this world is gone.
It's a crisis I know,
at the end of the show.
People change but we don't falter,
'cause we know love is real.
This is no place to shiver,
so get up off the grass.
You were once the main attraction,
but all that's in the past.
How much is free,
for me and you?
I'm on my knees,
I am a fool.
But when we kiss we speak as one.
With a single breath this world is gone.
(this world is gone).
How could I fail to give her,
when she cried such a lot.
People change but we don't falter,
'cause we use what we've got.
And when we kiss we speak as one.
With a single breath this world is gone.
And when we kiss we speak as one.
With a single breath this world is gone.
(this world is gone)
(this world is gone)
(this world is gone
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You, very human/Ti, veoma ljudsko
you who are everything out of your nothing
you co-builder co-creator
you whom I'm building and you're being torn down
you a participant of my answer
someone facing the otherness
I facing myself
you facing yourself
you very human sometimes too much
sometimes not at all
a token inhaled into dust
you a tribe you a nation you a world
you the skin of the sun the desert the night and the snow
you always the same
your heart and mind paving heaven and hell
you who are everything out of your nothing
ti koji si sve od svoga nista
ti sa-graditelj sa-tvoritelj
ti što te gradim a ti se razgradjujes
ti sa-ucesnik mog odgovora
spram drugosti neko
spram sebe ja
spram tebe ti
ti veoma ljudsko nekad isuviše
nekad uopšte
ti pleme ti narod ti svijet
umom i srcem poplocan pakao i raj
ti koji si sve od svoga ništa
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lyricon 2
Right from the sky
Merging with the blue
To whom the dwelling lost its track
Into the whispering pillows
Through the autumn eyelids
In blueness it was foretold
Long before life
With your eyes
Settling in the nests
It missed the point with both fire and stone
Long before Prometheus
With your hands
Made silent in an embrace
The world was being created
And stories were born
Long before history
With your hair
Out of fear, with hopes that bloomed
And freedom endless
Chiseled in the nests
You fed eagles within your eyes
(Lyricon icon 2,2005)
Iz neba srastao s plavim
Kome je stanište u jastuke šaputave odlutalo
Kroz jesenje kapke
Modrinom predskazivano dugo
Prije života
Oč ima tvojim
Gnijezdima nastanjeno
Vatrom i kamenom promašivano
Dugo prije Prometeja
Rukama tvojim
Zagrljajem utihnut
Gradio se svijet
Rađ ala povesma dugo
Prije istorije
Kosama tvojim
Iz straha – izniklim nadama
I slobode beskrajne
U gnijezda uklesan
U oč ima orlove hranio si
(Lirska ikona 2,2005)
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!