THE VIGIL
The face rests in the night
A spent hand is touched by a shadow
The Moon paused in the eyes
The eyes imprinted in the day
The surname of the sleeping one blossoms while
The imaginary water is calling
The shadow of a song runs away from me
Night remembers its eyes, different from the darkness
The night vigils as its own Sun
The fever of the star is treating my blood
The wind-sky caught up with the bird
My shadow warms the Sun
The forsaken blood is in the eyes
Sober is the shadow of the sky
The night trumpeted in a blurred flower
The dawn mirrored itself in the hands
A blind face is faster than the wind
The noise of the Moon wounds birds
The flower planted sadness
The eyes called the depth of my water
A Vigil dedicated to the sky
A day covered with the hollow of the words
In the night's shadow wanders a memory
The star overtook the eyes of loneliness
The fire has strayed into words
The night is sculptured by vigils
The Moon talks me on the run
A grateful flower in solitude
The star grows into memory
The shadow of words runs away from me
Fire rejects me, with my ashes
The flower wanders in the scarceness of water
The bird of a dream is touched by the vigil
THE FRUITS OF CLOSENESS
On the shores of the sea of our similarities,
the sky lists our returns to reality,
the sand expresses several civilizations of our
return to ourself.
The day squiggles like a fish of our past,
rooted between the two shores of our reexamination.
Yet we take the fruits of closeness
as the nonviolence of the forms of the world which
reshape us,
as the violence of the flower of germinating reality
through the cracks of our breakthrough
into our own body of boldness.
Yes, the body of boldness
to take the fruit of closeness
and in the paradise of our voices Adam and Eve chant,
their sin,
through a skein of their gaze.
PASSION AND SADNESS
The star draws
A man at the table.
The sun roars like his blood.
The sun signs his hardest thought.
The night parades
in the profile of his longing.
A hard thought of the day
yet toasts
the bending of his grief
over sorrow and passion
of the growing Sun.
Translation of the poems: Sonja Asanovic Todorovic
