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
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pythia the Stunt/Pitija kaskaderka
she liked paranormal activities
and saw symbolic connections between
apparently unconnected things
thus a pebble accidentally kicked
by her middle class boots
got endless measures in cosmic dimensions
of issues de-accidentalized
she liked mysteries
she heard the deaths whispered
into her ears only
of close relatives and distant people
she saw
colours dropped into her dreams only
of sleepy impressionists
and silent expressionists
post mortem hanging in reproductions
oh one of so many one of so many
in her pastoral home
she suffered from modesty pretend
and swam her butterfly style
in the swimming pool of her ego
perfectly aware of the fact
that not even those who serve God
far more diligently that she did
were not addressed by an angel voice
(but how could she have been guilty of that)
as the voice called her and only her
and only those similar to her
ready to applaud the great gift
only if their own was recognized
thinking she was a genius if she understood a genius
still I think she knew a lot
she knew so to say everything
especially since the day when
due to the pebble-deep voice-great gift
she became a real psychic …and got mad
______________________________________
pitija kaskaderka
je voljela paranormalne aktivnosti
i vidjela simbolič ne veze izmeđ u
naizgled nepovezanih stvari
tako kamenč ić sluč ajno šutnit
njenim srednjeklasnim č izmama
dobijaše nesagledive razmjere u kosmič kim dimenzijama
odsluč ajenih stvari
ona je voljela misterije
č ula
samo njoj došapnute smrti
bliskih rođ aka i dalekih ljudi
vidjela
samo u njene snove ubač ene boje
usnulih impresionista
utihlih ekspresionista
posmrtno obješenih u reprodukijama
(jednimod tako mnogo jednim od tako mnogo)
njenog pastoralnog doma
ona je patila od lažne skromnosti
savršeno svjesna da se ni onima
što Bogu služiše predanije od nje
nije javio anđ eoski glas
(pa kako je za tako nešto mogla biti kriva)
tek njoj samo njoj
i onima slič nim njoj
što spremni su da tapšu velikoj nadarenosti
samo ako im se prizna sopstvena
kao da si genije ako shvatiš genija
...je mnogo znala
znala takoreć i sve
pogotovo od onog dana kada je
igrom kamenč ić a-dubinskog glasa-velike obdarenosti
postala stvarno vidovita i...poludjela
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sexy Rdece Oci
Ostanem hladen c'e mi ukradejo kitaro
c'e me vlec'ejo na kaks'no zafixano zabavo
c'e mi vrtajo v koleno z najbolj grozno napravo
ampak ko vidim tebe postanem mrzel
Ostanem miren c'e mi grozijo s pis'tolo
c'e mi raztres'c'ijo lobanjo z macolo
ostanem miren c'e me utopijo v beton
ampak ko vidim tebe postanem mrzel
Ona ima tako sexy rdec'e oc'i ...
C'e ne bi bil tako cool bi jo raztrgal
c'e ne bi bil tako cool bi jo
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Twilight/Primrak
open your eyes for the Twilight
look there comes down the whole presence
to be in silence
an omnipresent non-thought and beyond-pain
in the first centuries
for ever and ever
that was the light of Heavenly Darkness
otvori oci za Primmrak
pogledaj nishodi vaskolika prisutnost
da budeš u cutanju
sveprisutna ne-misao i nad-bol
u prvih vjekova
za vjeke vjekova
to svjetlost Božanske Tmine bi
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Did You On That Day When The Sky Cut
Did you on that day when the sky cut
Stood fearfully beyond the earth of Void
A voiceless thought to spill
With the light the lightning when you
Touched the Heights
Did you on that day with the scream in a key
Unlock yourself at the gate of your Brother
Dali si onog dana kada je rasporeno nebo
Stajalo strašno nad zemljom Praznine
Da prospe iz sebe misao bez glasa
Svjetlom munjom spržen kad si
Dotako Visine
Dali si tog dana s urlikom u kljucu
Otključao sebe na kapiji Brata
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mogoce Me Ni
Nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Nisem se uc'il exat enga litra vina da bi mogu zaklepat z'epe vsakih 5
minut
mislit na denar bolj kot na lastno veselje in gledat face zdolgoc'asenih
kurb
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni ...
Jaz sem s'e bolj neobstojen od molekule ozona in c'e spijem eno pivo paf
se spremenim v kaviar
vedno imam pri sebi lasuljo od fantoma tarzanov dez'nik in majhno opico
ki pazi na denar
nisem se uc'il metat na zobe da bi mogu drz'at v glavi tolko brezveznih
informacij
in tako lepo oblec'en se poc'utim kot pes v najlon vrec'ki s kanglico na
glavi
Zakaj bi vsaka budala mogla vedet kdo sem kaj si mislim in kaj delam tu
mogoc'e sem nor mogoc'e samo utrujen mogoc'e nevaren mogoc'e me niti ni
in to kar vidis' se ti samo zdi mogoc'e me ni in to kar vidis' se ti
samo
zdi mogoc'e me ni
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ja nisam gost
ja nisam gost ovom tihom času
kad kiša za mene gorku kapju sprema
ne priznajem pad ni kad postoji zagrljaj
što će me odnijeti rijekama do ušća
i neću kraj kad od ničeg nije
ja hoću tok kretanje smisla
da raširim sjene i kad znanja nema
s njima da se igram i tako pomjerim
grafitu granice zida
ja nisam gost već domaćin kraj dovratka
što pod strehom stanuje od samog početka
na trijemu gdje čeka na stubu oslonjen
i ćutke gleda u noć
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The tree I am/ Ja sam drvo
The tree I am
Sideroad’s heart
My words in leaves
They touch the ground
The river I am
A beat in veins
My words in a drop
A swallowed water
The cloud I am
A written sky
Quote me not
The night is eavesdropping
Ja sam drvo
Srce krajputaša
Moje riječ i u lišć u
Dotič u tlo
Ja sam rijeka
U venama dodir
Moje riječ i u kapi
Progutana voda
Ja sam oblak
Ispisano nebo
Ne citiraj me
Prisluškuje noć
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Can You/Mozes li
Can you place a smile
within a framework of the universe
or is it the only way to cry against it?
Mozes li smjestiti osmjeha
u obrazac svemira
ili se samo tako place protiv njega?
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!
One moment/Jedan trenutak
can be a short story prolonged into thousands of pieces
tis is how some novels have been written
jedan trenutak moze biti kratka prica produzena u hiljade komada
tako se pisu neki romani
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There's A Sunset That's Made Only For The Glass Hour
some sundials that dropp silent secs of time
no shade in between standing too close to the past
it blooms like flowers never seen by eyes
it whispers like rains your hands have never touched
there's just a hint of the dusk in an unheard breaking
of window panes that stood closed for too long
©Miroslava Odalović
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Exe
there were pictures on the faces
pictures words clear on faces vague
they let them let hang like birds wet
pinned on the wire to dry they hanged them
each edge bridge thought
the water was a suicidal thing
but it was the what they hanged
already dead drip dropp dripping
crossing cursed scar scanned x rayed
through evil hands of time
into a sound beautiful caress
hugged and kissed comforted alive
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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!
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!
Dripping Water
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the horizon of heaven,
on the land, on the sand,
makes me happy, and so elated,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the dark black clouds,
on the leaves, on the tress,
gives them a slow quick bath,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the thunderstruck light,
on the eyes, on the cheeks,
makes everyone to turn the face up!
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the beauty of sky,
onthe mud, on the rivers,
makes musical splashes when gets strike,
Dripping water, dripping water,
everywhere!
from the love of vast scream,
to the beautiful murmors of land,
makes me sing, and dance.
poem by Tayyeba Mustafa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mit o postanku zla
I sotona rece:
'Neka bude laž! '
I bi laž.
Skrila se u kamenju
Pa sa visina sipa.
I sotona rece:
'Nek licemjerja bude! '
I bi licemjerje.
Skrilo se u rijecima
I ceka da progovori.
Pokrilo se paucinom
I pauke hrani.
Od samog sebe se skrilo.
I sotona rece:
'Nek otrova bude! '
I otrova bi.
Šejtani ga iz olujnog daha
Vitlajuc macem prosuli.
Nataložio se na zemlji
I njenim tokovima tece.
Skrio se u krvi.
I sotona rece:
'Da bude mržnja! '
I bi mržnja.
Prštala na sve strane
Kao krv koja ne može da se zgruša.
Šapama trigova hodala
Pa se i ona pod mahovinom
Na sjeveru lednom skrila.
I sotona rece:
'Neka bude covjek! '
I bi covjeka.
U laži i licemjerju se skrio
Otrovom ga mržnja ko mlijekom dojila.
Pirat se skrio u jedra umotan.
I bi covjeka
U zvijerima se skrio.
I sotona tece:
'Da misli da me nema! '
Ali tako ne bi
Bješe mu laž u pocetku rijeci.
Napisano 1989. rekonstruisano 2012-02-06.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!