Poem
Zvonko Maković
Infinitive
When things are movedonly shadows remain.
Enforced silence,
cold air.
I told you I was a flower, a nocturnal breeze
that reaches the nostrils.
I told you: things, well coordinated
relations. I told you: shadows,
overabundance of love which once
was but unknown yearning.
Tiny, untouchable flickers
are touching my heart – incessantly,
without a clear reason.
Like a withered petal, like someone gazing
at a firefly in a fragrant night in June,
like soundless emptiness behind tightly
pressed lips.
In a moist look
our poorly concealed proofs
fall asleep,
our scant hopes,
and treasons hardly kept secret.
Blissful touches which are now
mere duration.
Among the shadows, other shadows hide.
A move will easily cause another move.
I am silence:
hidden words settle upon my forehead.
infinitiv
infinitiv
Kad se stvari pomaknu,ostanu samo sjene.
Šutnja iz prinude,
hladan zrak.
Rekao sam ti da sam ruža, dašak noci
što dopire do nosnica.
Rekao sam: stvari, dobro uskladeni
odnosi. Rekao sam: sjene,
višak ljubavi koja nekoc
bijaše tek nepoznata žudnja.
Mali, nedodirljivi plamenovi
doticu moje srce – bez prestanka,
bez jasnog razloga.
Kao opala latica, kao netko zagledan
u krijesnicu mirisne lipanjske noci,
kao necujna praznina iza cvrsto
stisnutih usana.
U vlažnom pogledu
to se uljuljkuju naši slabo prikriveni
dokazi,
naše jedva još nade,
jedva prešutne izdaje.
Blaženi dodiri koji su sada tek
puko trajanje.
Medu sjenama skrivaju se druge sjene.
Pomak ce lako iznuditi drugi pomak.
Ja sam šutnja:
skrivena slova oblažu moje celo.
From: Tocka bijega
Poems
Poems of Zvonko Maković
Close
Infinitive
When things are movedonly shadows remain.
Enforced silence,
cold air.
I told you I was a flower, a nocturnal breeze
that reaches the nostrils.
I told you: things, well coordinated
relations. I told you: shadows,
overabundance of love which once
was but unknown yearning.
Tiny, untouchable flickers
are touching my heart – incessantly,
without a clear reason.
Like a withered petal, like someone gazing
at a firefly in a fragrant night in June,
like soundless emptiness behind tightly
pressed lips.
In a moist look
our poorly concealed proofs
fall asleep,
our scant hopes,
and treasons hardly kept secret.
Blissful touches which are now
mere duration.
Among the shadows, other shadows hide.
A move will easily cause another move.
I am silence:
hidden words settle upon my forehead.
From: Tocka bijega
Infinitive
When things are movedonly shadows remain.
Enforced silence,
cold air.
I told you I was a flower, a nocturnal breeze
that reaches the nostrils.
I told you: things, well coordinated
relations. I told you: shadows,
overabundance of love which once
was but unknown yearning.
Tiny, untouchable flickers
are touching my heart – incessantly,
without a clear reason.
Like a withered petal, like someone gazing
at a firefly in a fragrant night in June,
like soundless emptiness behind tightly
pressed lips.
In a moist look
our poorly concealed proofs
fall asleep,
our scant hopes,
and treasons hardly kept secret.
Blissful touches which are now
mere duration.
Among the shadows, other shadows hide.
A move will easily cause another move.
I am silence:
hidden words settle upon my forehead.
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