Ljubinko Jelić

Ljubinko Jelić
Ljubinko Jelić was born in 1932 in the village of Šarani, close to Gornji Milanovac. He graduated from the Faculty of Economy in Belgrade. For some time he lived in Munich. He works in construction and design, and ocasionally publishing.
So far he published: Letters to my love, Below the burning hammers, Wastefield, Sower’s gentleness, the Shine of the miraculous, Ravager before the door, The Magic ring, Above-Below, Closer to the glacier, Architect’s phonebook, Bitter seed, On the edge of the ash field, Building in, Tea for the neighbor, Around the dreamy nest, On another heaven, Angel in a greenhouse, Architect’s diary, Building and illusions, Graceful monophony, Collected poems in four books, Epistles of love.
His works have been translated into German, Romanian, Italian, English, Macedonian, Russian and Check and can be found in several anthologies of Serbian poetry. He has been awarded and is a member of Serbian Literary Society and European Academy for Culture and Art.
The awards he received include: Award of Serbian Literary Society for life’s work; “Ivo Andric” Academy’s International award for life’s work; Recognition of Cultural-educational community of Belgrade for exceptional contribution to the city of Belgrade; “Recognition of Morava” for total contribution to creativity in poetry and award of the Society of Playwrights for total contribution to the culture of Serbia.
He lives and works in Belgrade.
My love,
All the things I’d wish,
what can I ignite in myself
other than silence,
out of incapacity to tell you
how much I love you
and why I climb up the hill,
tall and shaded,
what priceless can I bring
to the top and place it before
our shades into dishes shaped
to fit a wistful look and sigh…
My love,
You are my window,
open towards days sunny
amid unsparing winter,
and my flower that holds
the daybreak of salvation
when there is no other
beam nor amazeful light in me,
already advanced down the field of uncertain.
You are my window
and irreplaceable horizon
where I go slowly,
with eyes closed.
My love,
Under dashes of cruel winter
I whisper a prayer to keep you,
in spite of ever stronger
waves of an invisible sea
and heralds from lands
beyond dream.
Lord, on your wide palm my love
is impregnated.
My love,
Lord, forgive us senseless
for no longer committing
ourselves to each other,
believing that Your words,
clear and utterly strange,
planted forever a seed of love
in our breaths and arms ready
to stay embraced
even after awakening.
My love,
My life, full of invisible longing,
has the shape of your ardent body
which keeps that cherished secret
for the moments
of your absence in the liberating night
before dawn,
above the blooming heaven,
in which we braided the threads
of mystical flame.
We are two butterflies
fluttering passionately,
too close to the dire candle
which burns oracular
somnolence in solitude of love.
Love and kisses

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