Sonet o ptici

Sonnet about the bird

It hatched out of a stone thrown

and became iris of the blinded sky

a little life that've taken off

of our endless shoulders bowed.

Oh strange bird whose purpose

is to be the flight of the earth and the song of deserted

sky, that is heard but not grasped. Oh, white

courting of the wind to that fiery bird.

Bird that is walled into the brain and wall

that never met the sight

that hearing has found in the places of murmur,

your death was conceived in our ear.

Oh stone-bird may the night mourn you

with the sultry stars with the stars unreasonable.

(translated by Aleksandra Milanović)