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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Related quotes
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
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I do not know what the bird is thinking/Ja ne znam sta ptica mni
I do not know what a bird is thinking
Into the hints-I know the edges-a walk and a step
And a flight pushed away against the sky
A waterfall of ink pushed down into a word
I'm writing a cloud blue beyond the lead of a letter
Tense it stands a naked with a sign a hand of dark
Pushed further by the wind the thirst dies from air
It satiates itself and it hurts a raindrop
The truth of its flight is the truth of today
But the truth of today is not the same tomorrow
Ja ne znam šta jedna ptica mni
U slutnje-ivice poznam-gaz i korak
Spram neba rukom odgurnut let
Vodopad mastila srucenog u rijec
Pišem oblak plavo nad olovnim slovom
Sapet stoji golo znakom rukom tmine
Vjetrom guran dalje žedj vazduhom gine
Samu sebe toli kaplju kiše boli
Istina joj leta istina od danas
Al istina od danas nije ista sutra
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The River 3/Rijeka 3
the banks of the body wipe away the limits
an ancient sideroad tree ripes
the river is silent in the tribal song
an unchained thought it deems
it sings lightly in the lap of dawns
'give me those morning lips of yours
a midday kiss from an edge of a word
an evening sound of bells in a song to sing
the secret of a midnight hour'
obale tijela granice brišu
starostavno krajputaš zri
tihuje rijeka plemenskom pjesmom
nesputanu misao mni
pjevuši lako u krilu zora
'daj mi te tvoje jutarnje usne
podnevni poljubac sa ruba riječi
večernji zvon pjesmom da pjevam
tajnu ponoćnog sata'
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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Painfully naked/Bolno razgolicena
Painfully naked
The wings of a dove
It took silence to understand as
Wordless it stood
Deeply meditating
Care caressing the air
Peace seeking paloma
Drawn in careful shades
Black grey white
Still sustaining
The whole flight
Frozen caught in a move
Bolno razgolić ena
Krila golubice
Trebalo je tišine da bi se shvatila
Jer
Bez riječ i je stajala
Duboko zamišljena
Brigom milujuć i vazdug
Paloma što traži mir
Iscrtana pažljivim sjenama
Crno sivo bijelo
Mirna hraneć i
Cjelokupan let
Smrznuta uhvać ena u pokretu
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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
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Nosi me kamen
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
S kamenom rođen već sam teret svijeta
Sezamska ćutnja sopstvenih vrata
S pticom u kamenu bez krila i leta
Ulaskom survan prevrnut tas
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen zemljom oko vrata
Nosi me uzbrdo odronom slomljen
Visinom do eha što odriče ga glas
Do vrha grla zapet težak nijemo sklonjen
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
Nosi me kamen a ja nosim nijemost
Nosi me kamen a ja riječi nosim
Nosi me kamen težak kao riječi
Nosi me kamen a ja pusta golemost
Od kamena bolestan kamenom se liječim
Spomenom što ga od kamena prosim
Dok oboje nas ne stigne čas
Prevage svjetla tmine
Ili nas
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Budi od svijeta
Budi od svijeta
Grumen od sna
Pticom od leta
Okom bez dna
Pogled u nedogled
Satkanog neba
Nogom u nedostup
Korak od hljeba
Načinjen trag
Buđenja dodir blag
Budi od svijeta
Tkanicom halje
Od nebopleta
I zemljom dalje
Krilati cvijet
Što šušti listom
Jesenji pad
I dušom čistom
Plavog neba glad
Budi od svijeta
Što jede svijetom
Smrt soptvenog tijela
Budi od leta
Što budi letom
Zemljom zamrla vrela
Budi od spleta
Tkanog nebokretom
Duša što cijelo je srela
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Vodo ja sam samo ruka
Tek dodir što te vječnošću tka
Dodir od pjene bez riječi i zvuka
I plima što ti tajnu zna
Vodo uvijek te čekam kraj stijenja
I usta su mi ogrezla u soli
Tu solim ranu sopstvenog htijenja
Da kap me tvoja više ne boli
Da riječ bude nevina kao tvoja pjena
Da pije tvoja vina i bude tvoja sjena
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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
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Raspuce
Zaiskriš li pod tišinom
Vatrom tihom gaziš svijet
Prodišeš li ko pod tminom
Pod njom čekaš neboplet
Prosijaš li zrncem sjaja
Sjajem isti zove put
Završiš li put do kraja
Nebu tihom nađeš skut
Očešljaš li žuta klasja
Ko u miru plave kose
Tad misao put obasja
I same te oči nose
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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One day
Which opens thus
In a cliché of every day
Originating in a badly done homework
The writing of a day starts with sharpened pencils
In an attempt of an account stylistically tasteless
For a day could not break on through
To the parks and Sunday picnics
It frowned at the text with colourless faces
‘neath whose skin the whole drama of a day
Strikes open eyes with total indifference
To the stressful automobile rides
Through the city bridges
Hanged shortly before the elections
Under the text of pontoon despair
Over the river of unwritten anxiety
To the games in concrete stories
Tag hopscotch hide and seek
At the bottom of squatted childhoods
One day you will write
And nothing will say
Nothing will be able to utter
The closing of a day
Without a title or a ‘done on’ date
Nothing but a red ink
To correct your spelling mistakes
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sing This Heart Back To Me
This heart that slept the beauty sleep
And dreamt of daylight drums of joy
This heart that dived abyss too deep
Sing this heart bring this heart
Bring this heart back to me
For there will be no more no heart
No no more heart
No no more heart to beat in me
This heart that leaped this heart that burned
In ashes smashed and crushed and rocked
This heart your heart it never learned
Sing this heart sink not this heart
Think not this heart belongs just to me
For there will be no more no heart
No no more heart
No no more heart to sing in me
This heart that shared your heart that dared
To see too much of the heart in me
Sing this heart bring this heart
Bring this heart back to me
For there will be no more no heart
No no more heart
No no more heart to dream in me
This heart your heart my heart toy heart
Sink not this heart choke not this heart
Sing this heart bring this heart
Bring this heart back to me
That I can cling to this heart
Sing to this heart
Bring my heart back to me
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Into the heart (Nafaka)
Within the mists beyond the edges of dawn
I will begin the song of love
The sunshine will be inside
A dandalion blown in the breath of daybreak
The blue of my hometown bay
The speechless fish in a water castle
The night will settle down
Across the black sparkling gown of the sky
I will begin the song of love
The stone will be inside
It’ll sing the fullness of sense
A butterfly will be inside
It’ll sing the length of its own flight
My own waiting I will sing
The Moon will emerdge on the edges of the sky
I will begin the song made of love
A grain of sand will be inside
It’ll fall in love with the mountain
A dropp of water will be inside
Inexpressibility it’ll glitter
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Electric Eel Song
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Take out you’ foot
From the black river water
Haul out you’ hand
Out the slow river water
Stay ‘pon the bank
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Shadow ‘pon the bottom
Is the eel in the river
Something like you’ hand
Is the eel in the river
Swimming like you’ foot
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Foot after foot
Though the black river water
She can’t touch the bottom
Out the slow river water
Shirt like umbrella
In the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
Cutlass shape
Is the eel in the river
Black blade or brown
Is the eel in the river
Dozing so quiet
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one child Ay-eeee!
Ay! me one daughter
Slap of a tail
Through the black river water
Shiver like ague
Out the slow river water
As if she take cramp
Of the cold river water
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
Electric eel
Is the eel in the river
No blood, just a thrill
Is the eel in the river
Lightning bold
Is the eel in the river
And she Drown now, she chilly
Is the eel in the river
Ay! me one daughter
Ay! me one child! Ay-eeee!
poem by Slade Hopkinson
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The Glass/Č Aša
Would you have liked it if it had not been broken?
Who likes those smashed ones standing
At the edges of the tables made of pain
Who likes to put them together like pieces of a puzzle
Fill them with the water from their own fountain
Drink them to the bottom and smash them again?
Dali bi je volio da nije bila slomljena?
Ko voli one što skrhano stoje
Na ivicama trpeza od bola
Ko voli da ih ko slagalicu spoji
Napuni vodom sa svoga izvora
Ispije do dna i ponovo razbije?
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Hart Crane
A heart to compose a certain miracle of a bridge
Is a crane's outreach over the wasteland soil
Still glued to the wasteland's heart
The world is forgetting crane
Is it a kind of conspiracy
A touch of the devil's hand
Few teach heart's literacy
And everyone teaches wasteland
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Ms Chancey
Oh dear lady
Such beautiful hands
The tips of the fingers lightly
Removing the gloves
Throw them down on the floor
You flirt with…who
Those indifferent sparks
Quivering in the corner of your eyes
Which many times
Called themselves little devils
But you don't sing
Fortuna
Scarlet heart
Today honey
You don't sing
Am I right
Something went wrong
Ms Chencey
Quite down those unending
Winding ways of an autumn
Down an evil September
Ominous
Scarlet heart
Today you don't sing
Not even Fortuna
You don't sing at all
Ms Chancey
Those wheels of yours
I've broken them you see
You cannot flirt with me
Sorry
I'm just too ‘lucky' for your spell
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
I zaronimo u geometriju oštrih slijepih uglova
Što žive svoje živote izmedu dva sna
Milimetri snage mogu se istopiti
U mapama i stazama
Muzejima na raskršcu
U semaforima što bespomocno trepcu
Kad želje bilborduju staze do pakla
U slike obmane grube zabave za posjetioce što kažu
Mi smo sad fini pristojni ljudi
Više ne gledamo kako mecka igra
Probadana žaracem
Jer smo saznali bol njenog makabra
Ali ipak smo stavili rukavice
Otišli do njenog Zoo vrta
Tražeci da nam da intervju
Iako nikad ni rijec nije rekla
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Ispisuje se jedan aforizam bola
Što hrani se na kraju redova
I stiska adresu remek djelo
On pulsira 'mjesta molim mjesta da pokucam
Bez imena mrtva ste ulica
Došao sam da zaplacem kraj zvona na vratima
Što zvoni spram putujeceg prodavca snova
Što došao je samo da pozdravi majku
Jer danas ne prodaje ništa
Cak ni Boga za mjesecni prihod
Nijedan recept za srecniji život
Danas je došao da pita spavace sobe na spratu
O malom djecaku što mokrio je u krevet
I skrivao svoje košmare pod dušek
I matrici dizajniranoj što živi u kutiji za igracke
Medu jednonogim olovnim vojnicima
Kraj lutke djevojcice sa šibicama
Obešcašcene pod Božicnom jelkom'
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Vozovi stanu zanijemili na šinama
Slijepi se putnici iskrcavaju peroni pucaju
Trgovi se crvene od paradajz revolucija
Što flertuju sa metaforama krvi
Bare podojene majkom hrabrošcu
Isparavaju u sušama južnih zraka
I vracaju se sa rodama što ne radaju djecu
Na dan kada naucimo kako ulice dobijaju imena
Zidovi stružu svoju farbu suzno tražeci
Boju necijih ociju u svakoj zidanost da udave
I apokalipticno kripticni grafiti
Pomjeraju kaldrmisane ulice
I svi tramvaji nazvani po tockovima vremena
Pomjeraju beskrajne gradove u svemiru
Što oplakuju avionske nesrece
Kad rukama isprepletanim gradimo mreže velegrada
Kao pauci sobom izjedeni što pletu
Tragove sopstvene pljuvacke da bi uredno bili usisani
U danima kad stanodavac ima vremena da ocisti prašinu
Naucimo da ulice mijenjaju imena
Onako kako zmije mijenjaju košuljice
Ali nikada nacin vijuganja
Naucimo da postoje hiljade bezimenih heroja
Koji sklupcani na uglovima prose mjesto
Gdje ulice nece imati imena
Koji nikad nisu zaradili ulicu što ce se po njima zvati
Zahvaljujuci nekom istoricaru što silovao je tekst u fusnotama
I oprao ruke krivice nad zlocinom
Što ulice pokrece da kruže
Što uglove pokrece do sljepila
Sa vlasnikom podataka bez vizije
Što umace svoje pero u bare onoga
Što treba da bude znacajno sjecanje
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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