Milica Milosavljević (Serbia)

 
Milica Milosavljević (Serbia)
 
Milica Milosavljević (Čačak, 1991). Her poems were published in the magazine for po-ethical research and action – (sic!), Književni Magazin, Beogradski Književni Časopis, Sent, Libela, Ars, the literary journal Čovjek-Časopis, and on literary and cultural websites “Astronaut”, “Strane”, “Porkulum”, “booke.hr”. In 2014, she won the award of the “Milutin Bojić” Library, which led to the release of her poetry book “Tamne Intimnosti” (Dark Intimacies). The same year, she was the winner of the festival for young poets “Festival Days” in Zaječar. Her book “U zoni umereno-kontinentalnih strahova” (In the Zone of Humid Continental Fears) was then published in their series. In 2019, she won second place at the “Ratković Poetry Evenings” festival for young poets. Following a call “(Un)Utopian Times. Young Writers’ Network” (2019), her poems were selected for the dual language anthology of young writers from Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Croatia, Germany, Russia, and Serbia. Her poetry was translated into German, English, Romanian, and Macedonian. She is a student of Serbian Literature and Language with Comparative Studies at the Faculty of Philology in Belgrade. Besides poetry, she writes prose and literary reviews.
 
 
YEARS DEDICATED TO ILLUSIONS
 
For long I believed that I was here
to bring joy to others
to freshen their lives with poetry,
although no one felt the need for it,
let alone its possible meanings
all they wanted was to take part in this body
and grasp its lustful reality
by observing others
leaving, their heart would, for a moment,
pound harder
if they would realize
that from now on they will be
my formal accomplice in everything
soon, their heart starts to beat
in its usual rhythm
gradually it starts to forget
and I, since then, up till now,
devotedly ponder
every moment of our encounters
like a scientist in front of a microscope.
 
 
A GIRL’S DREAM
 
I don’t want to be put on the horizon of hope
like on a breathing machine
I want to swim in the direction opposite to waiting
one can become a slave even in brief
safety relief encounters
I see you a few years from now lying on a beach
wearing a bikini and drinking a shake, he tells me
forget writing
you must live fuller, fishier
you cannot simply become a fish, a fish-poet
at the bottom of this low-calorie and no-yeast world
you mustn’t show off your curves so as to surrender to others
the cruelty you have intended for yourself
don’t identify with the role of feeder of innocent horny
pigeons
they’ll fly just the same
remember – it is your kind
that is most prone to falling.
 
 
REBELLION
 
I grew up in a home
where everything was poetry
from lunch to airing the room
from avoiding responsibility to awaiting a new sunrise
there was no he-poet in the house
there was she-poet
but there were always poems
when we grow up
we will defend ourselves from these poems –
my sister would say
and my brother would say
and I would say
when we grow up
there will be no poetry
we will surround life from all sides
and dance to the rhythm of uncertainty.
 
Translated in English: Lucy Stevens

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