Kelaino, Greece, 2014

A dream sketched

The end of the holiday

The last silhouettes landscape

In the house lullabies

Under a soft pillow of

A dream sketched.

MOJE SU REČI...My Words Are

MOJE SU REČI

Kao omlađeni starac

Moje su reči

Stidljivi pokloni

Kakvo ću svedočanstvo

U sebi da nosim

Za krilo budućnosti

Koje sanjam

Da u slavu Boga

Na neponovljivi način

Budim postojano.

  

My Words Are

Like in an aged young man

my words

are timid gifts

of the testimony

I will carry within me

for the wing of future

in which I dream

to celebrate God

in an unrepeatable way

awakening it steadily. 

When time comes

KAD DOĐE VREME

Kad dođe vreme

Grmnuće

Ova osedela nebesa

Od zakletvi i kletvi

I zasvetleće od starosti

Ove pobijene i usađene krstače

Što nose drevne senke pretka.

I ove bezimene kosti

Što pevno krckaju i

Tabaju im pepeo duše

I ovaj nevidljivi

Negasli žar ognjišta

Koji sja u kopitama konja

Što jure sudbine naše

Kroz osedlane vidike

Sve ove rasute

Oznake i znamenja

Zasijaće jasno

Kostima istorije

Kroz razlistalo vreme.

When time comes

When time comes

There will be thunder

In these gray-haired heavens

From oaths and curses

And there will turn bright of age

These staked and planted crosses

Revealing shadows of ancestors.

And these nameless bones

That hum and crack

Stamp on the ashes of their souls

And the unextinguished ambers of the hearth

That shine in the spurs

Of horses

That drive our destinies

Through saddled vistas

All these scattered

Marks and omens

They’ll burn brightly

In the bones of history

Through blooming time.

                              Translate: Vasa Mihailović