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The night of mine (Nafaka)

like a pale cracking shadow of the Moon, my night
like a thought of an infinity below a starlit arch, my night
like a murmur of distant lonely silences, my night
like a breathing dying out under the pillow of pain, my night
like an evening star trown into a well, my night
like an abyss of heigths being silenced by the bottom, my night
like shivering of hours at the edge of the knife, my night
like windy wings in unspreadness, my night
like a whisper cut off from the quivering lips, my night
like fingers weaving the webs of the reveiled, my night
like a dawn of darkness, my night

kao blijedilo iskricave sjenke Mjeseca
noc moja
kao misao beskraja pod zvjezdanim svodom
noc moja
kao vreva dalekih usamljenih tisina
noc moja
ko minulo disanje pod jastukom od bola

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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How to interpret the distance between two smiles/Kako protumaciti razmak izmedju dva osmjeha

It should be interpreted as an attempt to reconcile a plus and a minus, black and white, the poor and the rich. Like tranquility between two joys in which the first one calls the second one using the bridge of the unsaid. Some people go so far as to interpret the distance between two smiles through tears, blood or simply an inexpressible sorrow. Some interpret it as a way to preserve both smiles. The length of a smile is of no importance. It does not make any difference whether a smile is 2mm or 2 light years long, there's always a space which can contain the possibility of coming closer or distancing. Smileness in each case is a precondition for any kind of approaching.
Or it may end up in a Pavlov's reflex that does not reflect anything. And what is a smile at all? There are different ways to determine this and each one of them slips any kind of definition.
Chronologically speaking a smile is a living time it takes to put the corners of our lips upwards to get in the first touch with the other being. According to its purpose it carries the burdens of goals just like bags full of hours spent in waiting for a smile from the other side of a bridge. A smile can be a means to an end, an instrument of compulsion that we sometimes use for practice in the morning after we've washed our face and brushed our teeth for it's time to get out, leave ourselves and devote time to the others that standing in front of their mirrors disinfect their own smileness.
It's something like a business smile which if we practice it to the point of perfection can make us rich.
A smile can carry anything from a living quiver of love to a complete frozenness. There are many things that can get frozen on our lips. The problem arises when it is us who gets frozen on them.

Treba tumaciti kao pokusaj izmirivanja plusa i minusa, crnog i bijelog, siromasnog i bogatog. Kao smiraj izmedju dvije radosti u kojoj prva doziva drugu mostom precutanog. Neki odlaze toliko daleko da razmak izmedju dva osmjeha tumace suzama, krvlju ili prosto neiskazljivom tugom. Neki kao pokusaj ocuvanja oba osmjeha.
Duzina razmaka pri tom ne igra nikakvu ulogu, svejedno dali su u pitanju dva milimetra ili dvije svetlosne godine razmaknutost ostaje prostor u koji staje mogucnost priblizavanja i udaljavanja. Osmjehnutost u svakom slucaju predstavlja uslov za bilo kakvo primicanje.
Ili se zavrsava kobnim Pavlovljevim refleksom koji ne reflektuje ama bas nista. I sta je uopste osmjeh. Postoje razliciti kriterijumi po kome moze da se odredi i svaki od njih sasvim sigurno izmice bilo kakvoj odredljivosti.

Po hronoloskom kriterijumu osmjeh predstavlja zivo vrijeme u kome se odvija laganim izvijanjem usana na gore prvi dodir sa drugim. U odnosu na svrhu on nosi terete cilja kao vrece pune sati u kojima zeljno iscekujemo osmjeh sa druge strane mosta. Osmjeh je sredstvao, instrument prinude koji ponekad poslovno uvjezbavamo izjutra ispred ogledala nakon umivanja i pranja zuba jer je kada izadjemo vrijeme da napustimo sebe i posvetimo se drugom koji takodje tu ispred ogledala dezinfikuje sopstvenu osmjehnutost.
To je nesto kao business smile koji ako se dotjera do savrsenstva moze donijeti veliko bogatstvo. Jedan osmjeh moze da nosi sve, ama bas sve od zivog treptaja ljubavi do potpune ukocenosti. Postoji veliki broj stvari koji moze da se zaledi na nasim usnama. Problem nastaje kada se na sopstvenim usnama jednom ukocimo mi sami.

A Little School of Interpretation, …in x lessons,2007.
©Miroslava Odalovic

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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That's not it-To nije to

Excuse me sir
You look like someone I've met before
And I am sure it is like that
I'm sure everyone has met everyone before
In what's called preceding lives
Do you believe in that sir
I mean those karmas
Moving along cyclic zodiacs
Made of illiterate stars
Sounds quite familiar to me
A life through trials and errors
I think sir
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
(Do not worry you don't have to give me any
Of your monthly revenue
I am not that kind of a beggar)
When I outstretch the palm of my hand
And look at those divinely entangled lines
So cryptic
That are supposed to determine my fate

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Come in and meet my friend-Udi i upoznaj mog prijatelja

come in and meet my friend

he's got eyes of different colours
one eye is blue the other is like honey

he's got a scar somewhere beneath his heart
and the wound under the heart a bitter snake of a dream

he's got a coat and a hat on his head
the coat with two facets and the hat full of thoughts

come in and meet my friend

he knows the names of the rivers and the limits of the globe
and the salt stolen from the bottom of the sea

he knows the ribs of rocks and the whisper from the cliff
and the words hiding under the whisper

he knows all the streets all the houses at twilight

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Idealna Zena

Sahranicu te na Pere Lachaise
pored Preverta, zeno
trebalo je da budes lijepa
kao njegove pjesme o tebi

Sahranicu te na Pere Lachaise
pored Sopena, zeno
trebalo je da budes lijepa
kao njegova muzika o tebi

Sahranicu te na Pere Lachaise
pored heroja, zeno
trebalo je da budes hrabra
i umres kao heroj, zeno

Sahranicu te na Pere Lachaise
pored...
uostalom svejedno mi je
gdje cu te sahraniti
moja lijepa IDEALNA ZENO.

poem by Jankovic Zoran
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A wish

I wish I could die like a plant
To silently fade out and never let my voice
I wish I could live like a plant
To close my buds facing the knowledge of pain

I wish I could walk the earth unheard
To sneak among the trees and spikes

I wish I could be silent
Like a plant

Želja

Voljela bih da umrem kao biljke
Da se tiho gasim i glasa od sebe da ne dam
Voljela bih da živim kao biljke
Da sklopim latice pred spoznajom boli

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Fotografija

fotografija

boze,
sta da napisem o tome.

to volim da radim,
ponekad od toga zivim.
kad u to gledam:
ponekad sam tuzan,
ponekad sam srecan.

drago lice
vidim kao da je tu.
ruzno,
okrenem, izbrisem
i kao da nije bilo tu.

to je magija
koja vjecno traje.

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poem by Jankovic Zoran
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It’s A Passion Inflicted Flickering Light / To Je Patnjom Pogodjeno Treperavo Svjetlo

That dies away in candles unlit
It defines the circumference of its own burning
Gracefully etched in fragile petals kissed
By lips now mute in fields of gold now blooming
Like little fires cast into the hearth of my heart
Like flames of my dawn coming never to depart

To je patnjom pogodeno treperavo svjetlo
Što umire u neupaljenim svijecama
Ono odreduje obim u kom gori
Graciozno urezbareno u krhkim petaljkama poljubljeno
Usnama sada nijemim što u poljima zlata sad pupe
Kao male vatre bacene što ognjištu srca vode
Kao plamenje zore kad mi dode da nikada ne ode

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Water traces-Vodeni spomenik

Like a curtain of rain
That the hand will never
Be able to move it away
Not even when the eye opens up a drop
Like pools full of thoughts
Dissolving amidst the fall
A sound of the first thunder
Removed from the cloud
With the lightning the fire in hand
The thought dying alone on the breath
Our breathing it breathes
The islands are painting the waters
The waters are painting the skies
The skies are painting out faces
Are we just- the water traces

Vodeni spomenik

Kao zavjesa od kiše
Što ruka je nikad

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Like He Was Love He Is/Kao On Sto Bio Je Ljubav Je On

Being after the breath as if after the light
A butterfly chased by its wing
From the edge of the end pushed away removed
Burnt down by candles a road to sorrow path
To the beggars and begs a gown sewed for the sky

He knew neither hands nor touches
Neither the words nor the colour of his crown
Died for the beauty in an earthly pain
In a grave and verse not to die again

Like he was love he is
A throne built for an endless possible

Like he was love he is
A throne built for an endless possible

Za dahom ko za svjetlom
Leptir krilom gonjen

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poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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