Demon urezuje, ispisuje svoje reči, brojeve na mojim dlanovima. A ja grlim mrak sa usana reči niz vetar, ulica prazna, poneki pas lutalica samo u prolazu. Kap vina crvenog na tragu snishodljivo pristupa,ponekad do daha, taj osećaj prepuštenosti. Demon na prelazu, sačekuje,sačekuje jutra, ispraća noći, sa mojih dlanova kap rose. |
Demon commits, writes his words, numbers on my palms. And I embrace the darkness words from the lips of a series of wind streets empty, occasional stray dog only in passing. A drop of red wine in the wake of condescending approach, sometimes to the breath, This feeling of abandonment. Demon in the transition, waiting, waiting morning farewell night with my hands drop of dew. |
22:22
Vjetrovi... neumorni vjetrovi na ovoj uzvisini od snova odbjegli. Malo vremena za prolaz pod svjetlima fenjerskim, kune me daljina, troši moje potonje korake. Na raskršću sjevera i juga neka slova na tragu, kroz misao provučena daleka pučina. Nebo i mjesec, u malo vode na dlanu, zapućeni pjesnik u starom kaputu sa torbom punom stihova. Kasno je čini se ! U trenu spoznati puteve ,obale i pučine dočekati brodove kraj svjetionika svjetlo s prljavog okna prosutog potom negdje u daljinu... |
The winds ... relentless winds on the hill dreams of a runaway. Little time to pass under the lantern light, I rate the distance, waste my subsequent steps. at the crossroads North and South Some characters on the trail, Threading through thought into the open sea. The sky and the moon, little water in the palm, poet in the old coat with a bag full of verses. It's too late it seems! Instantly know roads, coasts and open sea see the boats near the lighthouse Light spilled from the dirty panes then somewhere in the distance ... |