Svest o zaboravu

Consciousness Of Oblivion

Hope is a luxury. Eternal night in blood

threatens to an imaginary eye with a wall blind.

Oh fire, behind yourself dark, I can not recall

for as if the first one to love,

I love.

Do I know what I knew do I know what I shall:

name lost and the lonely shell,

beautifully synchronized with the emptiness that recalls

barren flowers and barren winters.

I am worried lover of that flower

that teases Sun and emptiness in me

who turns into nightingale, when different than the rest

landscape touches me and turn into dust.

But with oblivion I protected the world and protect it

for all times, from time and dust

Oh where are those places when wind blows

moving emptiness! Where is my timid star?

Turpitude desire a poem in vain! On my knees

I read the landscape that reveals

in being, in an empty stone where hides

the last star whose glow never lies.

(Translated by Aleksandra Milanović)