Stone flower (Kameni cvet ) / Poem by Miljana Zivanovic

 
 
Poem by Miljana Zivanovic
 
 
Stone flower
 
A gust of night frost
rushing from the forgotten plains,
through sharp ravines
in which the firstborn gods died,
a paralyzed silence is heard
stones in red frames
in a heart that was cramped ….
 
In the depths and thickets of the swamp
no boots through the mud,
the fragrant wilderness seeks a dying life
in the plundered valleys,
where a mournful rebuke mourns
on broken rocks …
 
When the great sun rises ripe in the morning dew,
glistening above the blue distances
and the shadows flee into empty opening,
where skeletons with helmets turned off their lights,
another stone flower is born in the symphony …
 
The stone messenger rises above the heights
as the trees sway from the lowlands,
sucks out the last dew full of tears
the hunger of sold souls is growing …
 
Unacceptable roads across the cold plains,
they come and go, flowers on barren soil …
 
A drum rumbled from the mountains.
Condor for revenge is coming down
from the infinite sky,
and dirty sand clouds in their great ferocity
they descend on their wrecks,
where only bits of anger flutter
of quarreling darkness who smiles lonely …
 
The messenger of the stone flower.
Mild and soothing
as an experienced conductor,
the symphony entices the orchestra
together in squares of thin tones
lost childhood,
and invites a melancholic artist …
 
 
Kameni cvet 
 
Naletom noćnog mraza
juri iz zaboravljenih ravnica,
kroz oštre jaruge
u kojima su umirali prvorođeni bogovi,
čuje se paralizirana tišina
kamenja u crvenim okvirima
u srcu koje je bilo skučeno….
 
U dubini i gustiš močvare,
bez čizama kroz blato
mirisna divljina traži umirući život
u opljačkanim dolinama,
gde sujetni prekor tuguje
na slomljenim stenama…
 
Kad veliko Sunce izlazi sazrelo u jutarnjoj rosi,
svetlucajući iznad plavih daljina
a sene beže u prazna okna,
gde su kosturi sa kacigom ugasili svoja svetla,
u simfoniji se rađa još jedan kameni cvet…
 
Kameni glasnik se uzdiže iznad visina
dok se stabla njišu iz nizine,
isisava posljednju rosu punu suza
glad prodanih raste…
 
Neprihvatljivi putevi
preko prohladnih ravnica,
oni dolaze i odlaze
cvetovi na neplodnom tlu…
 
Iz planina zašušta bubanj.
Kondor za osvetu se spušta
s beskonačnog neba,
i prljavi peščani oblaci u svojoj velikoj žestini
spuštaju se na svoje olupine,
gde lepršaju samo komadići ljutnje
posvađanog mraka
koji se usamljeno smeši…
 
Glasnik kamenog cveta.
Blago i umirujuće
kao dirigent sa iskustvom,
simfonija mami daleko od orkestra,
zajedno sq tankim tonovima
izgubljenog detinjstva,
i doziva melanholičnog umetnika…

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