My four walls (Moja četiri zida) / Poem by Miljana Zivanovic

 
Poem by Miljana Zivanovic
 
 
 
Moja četiri zida
 
Svejedno, s vremenom
većina ljudi se izgubi,
i dalje želim biti bezosećajna.
Hoću li kao takva dobiti blagoslov
ili kao većina da ne brinem?!
Ili sve zaboraviti…
 
Zarobljenih osećaja, želja otvorenih,
oči plaćaju rob robovanja…
Da, okus je gorak,
ali ko plaća gorčinu?
 
Dajem sve od sebe da preživim,
pokušavam ne samo uzimati,
već i da izražavam zahvalnost.
Snaga mi potrebna da bih se izdigla iznad životne patnje,
da vladam svojim emocijama, da im dam smisao.
To zahteva u meni snaznu volju…
 
Obuzdavam svoje treptaje
ali pouzdanje?
Pomalo sam izgubljena…
Da, i to sam znala unapred,
tek otkrivam svet i sebe.
 
Je li to zdrav razum, je li to moj neuspjeh,
ili je obrnuto?!
Blagoslovljeno sa uvidom
da robovi nadnica više nisu zadovoljni sa mnom.
 
Slobodno rođena bez broja,
još uvek nisam mnogo mudrijia ali malo sam starija.
Sa željom i viziom uličnog prosjaka,
nekoga ko zna ponešto o svemu.
 
Ja nemam osećaj čak ni za ljubav
niti svoje treptaje,
ipak kažem da volim…
Jer smo povjerenje jedni u druge izgubili s’ godinama,
a to se uči od rođenja…
 
Gromovi pucaju…
Kakve li munje sevaju kad ćutanje progovori?
Ne uzimam reč za sebe,
držeći usta zatvorenim…izgovaram:
Četiri zida, vrata je teško pronaći,
u deliću sekunde, u deliću emocija,
prostrano vreme,pojam se gubi…
 
 
My four walls
 
Anyway, over time
most people get lost,
i still want to be insensitive.
Will I be blessed as such
or like most don’t worry ?!
Or forget everything …
 
Captive feelings, desires of the open,
eyes pay the slave of slavery …
Yes, it tastes bitter,
but who pays bitterness?
 
I do my best to survive,
I try not only to take,
but also to express gratitude.
The strength I need to rise above the suffering of life,
to control my emotions, to give them meaning.
It requires a strong will in me …
 
I restrain my blinks
but trust?
I’m a little lost …
Yes, and I knew that beforehand,
I’m just discovering the world and myself.
 
Is it common sense, is it my failure,
or is it the other way around ?!
Blessed with insight
that wage slaves are no longer happy with me.
 
Free born without number,
I’m still not much wiser but I’m a little older.
With the desire and vision of a street beggar,
someone who knows a thing or two about everything.
 
I don’t even have a feeling for love
nor your blinking,
yet i say i love …
Because we have lost confidence in each other for years,
and this is learned from birth …
 
Thunderstorms shoot …
What kind of lightning shines when silence speaks?
I don’t take my word for myself,
keeping my mouth shut … I say:
Four walls, the door is hard to find,
in a split second, in a split emotion,
spacious time, notion is lost …
 
Miljana Zivanovic
@All Copy Right Reserved

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