Jedan korak

Ako te proslost nadvlada
Pricaj o svojim porazima
uzdignute glave i otvorenih ociju
Ako te navika nadvlada
Zaboravit ces da voljeti ne znaci oslanjati se
A drustvo ne znaci sigurnost
Shvatit ces tek onda da poljupci nisu ugovori
A  sva obecanja se vrlo vjesto pretvore u robu
spremnu za novog kupca na marketu
Svi putevi se grade danas jer sutrasnje
suvise je nesigurno za planiranje
Dovoljan je jedan korak 
i nada da si tu
da shvatis
da si snazan
I da uistinu vrijedis  

Lydia Lida Simic

From My Pillow

Silently looking for the exit sign
In these unreadable desert that inhabit my left
and his right boot
abandoned somewhere on the way to the creek
I found

There is nothing on the left
There is nothing on the right.

I suddenly turn in to the shape of shoelace.

Stretched from my pillow to his bare foot
I was trying to learn the language in which
dark rainy cloud whisper to the grain of a sand .
What have been said before some lousy cactus
become desert rose
And how long it takes to learn more about that
punctuation already tattooed in my skin
by invisible ink.

I did not learn much decoding signs on the crossroads
that like my palms was useful more to the fake prophets,
than to me
not far from my own grief,
too close to my solitude

What I wanted was to be just one shoelace
that will make two empty boots
walking towards the end of the desert
where my pillow looks like
two desert roses
chirping about simple love
in the language I still try to learn.
Lydia Lida Simic
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

From dear friend Zoran Maslic film When You Die As Cat

DEVOTION TO PERFECTION PAUL CELAN

Romantic night in romantic Belgrade  perfect  to refresh our romantic memories whispering again  words  of magical poetry until romantic morning one of those that counts to eternity.

 Corona was best description of US .  



One of countless possible translation this time by me from German in English .

CORONA

Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.

In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.

My eye moves down to the eyes of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conchs,
like the sea in the moon's blood ray.

We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from
the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.

It is time.” 






Belgrad   Terazije  2011
GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE WHEREVER YOU ARE