Poems by Andjelko Zablaćanski / Translated by Diana Lazarevich (Dajana Lazarević )

Andjelko Zablaćanski
Poems by Andjelko Zablaćanski
The people of shadows travel for days
Down the roads of shame
This elm in front of our house
Is our shade
They told that by knife
By fire
By bloody palm
They said by silence in front of eyes
Of blind people
People of shadows travel
Down the roads of shame
With the fetters around necks
And with ingles
In their eyes
With no hope
This summer is not yours
In the scent of pears
That’s what they told
With boot in ribs
With a gunstock
In a temporal bone
They told by devil’s force
On a saint day
People of shadows travel for years
Down the roads of shame
Pears don’t scent anymore
Not here not there
As they were told
4th August 2017
Spilled by the dream fields of grain ripen in a view
And I hear, like I’m awake, the wind that blows
In my head, I don’t know whose, tired sharp word
Monsters that tighten my neck like a barrel hoops.
And although I know – everything is in emptiness
The shadows on the wall or on my mind which move
Silence and scream are dead aria’s fiddle bow
Which before the sun, extinguish candle completely
And where is my body, where the soul now in darkness
With silence they found their refuge
I didn’t know when wth the dawn they stayed alone
Why the shadow of a monster looks for me every night
Dedicated to Lenka Dundjerski
What are looking for your childish years?
On the doorstep of my house of memories
When my nights are all without a moonlight –
You, not clear to yourself, enthralled like that
When you knock – may I open the door
Not out of fear for me because there is it no more
But because I will break your golden dreams
Only the illusion which eraces inspiration
The doors creaked, you stand in front of me
How to breathe the air that divides us
Thoughts see a child – the heart a woman’s contour
Forward or backward – what is a brave step
I said a wise word, but I already kiss you
You’re a woman – that feel my restless fingers
While I judge to myself, like to a criminal
In front of the devil, the passion baptizes in impudence
Translated by Diana Lazarevich (Dajana Lazarević, 1993.)
Andjelko Zablaćanski
Andjelko Zablaćanski is a poet, aphorist and a prose writer. He was born in 1959. in Glušci, near to Bogatić in Mačva. Writes since adolescence and until now he published seven books. His poems were translated into Russian and Bulgarian language, aphorisms into Macedonian, and he translates from Russian into Serbian.
Now Andjelko Zablaćanski lives in Glušci.

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