Tatiana Dan Rakić (Serbia)

Tatiana Dan Rakić (Serbia)

Tatiana Dan Rakić was born on December 18th 1962, in Požega, Serbia, where she lives and works as a teacher. She writes prose and poetry for adults as well as children’s fiction, art and literary criticism and scholarly papers in the field of education. She participated in the development of several monographs and worked as head of art workshops for younger schoolchildren (creative writing workshops, art and environmental workshops). Her vignettes and sketches illustrate a number of books and literary magazines. She paints and makes wire installations. She is collector of fossils and minerals.
Books:
A Trout Under The Skin (Prometheus, Novi Sad, 2012)
Taša’s Diary of Adjustment (short fiction for children) Sven (Niš, 2013)
“The Circle is Written Endlessly” UG Hrast, Županja Osijek 2015 (in Croatian), Novel “Rorsch’s Stain” by IK Legend, Čačak 2015.
Organizer by Emina’s short story, Svitak, Pozega 2017.

Awards: “Rade Tomić” for the manuscript of the book (2012), Gordana Todorović (2012) for the short story The Secret of Morava (Čuprija, 2013). “Constantine’s Visions” for a short story dedicated to the Edict of Milan, (2013), “Hadzi Dragan Todorovic” for poetry, Pozega (2013).

Represented in several anthologies: Step toward the Lost Paradise (collection of Sebian Modern Poetry on English and Arabic), Majdan, Kostolac (2018), Jasmine Wreaths in Danube River (collection Serbian and Tunisian poetry prepared by Abdallah Gasmi, Slavica Pejovic and Munir Mezyed on English), Tunisia (2019)…
Her poetry, prose and essays have been translated into French, English, Arabic, Polish…

 

A POEM ABOUT A POEM

I clutched a pen until it became
Part of me. So, poems do exist!
Silent poems as well…
O Man-Poem, I give myself to the odes
So they will pull my ears! When they ask
My opinion, we often argue.
But words have weight…
From time to time, I attached my poem to a rope.
Sometimes I take it for a walk through the town.
As we pass those magnificent shop windows
It tugs at my sleeve to walk away in order not to fall ill
We run along together and crawl
Into a hole. O Man-Poem,
I give you my word as round as a cherry.
Do you want to play?
What if you see a seductive reverse side
To the devil’s table?! We would all
Gobble away greedily and no one is
Strong enough to avoid having stomach ache
After gorging such sweet things.
Every time, when my words become shallow
I leave the verse. This means I am unlikely
To drown myself in it. If you enter the poem,
And there’s still room,
Then the water would be deeper as well.

 

GLASS ROOM

There is a place
Where the world stops for a moment
In a casual pose
I walk along the glass edges
In every direction
And the cardinal points
All remain in the same place.
I still look forward
Not looking around. But who are you,
Darkness that has left the room?!

Translated by Timothy John Byford

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