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[Speculum Columbae]

Odabrani fragmenti Sapfo:

Samoća

Zašao je mjesec, skrili se vlašići.
Ponoć je. Vrijeme domijenka bježi,
dok osamljena i budna ležim.

Mjesec i zvijezde

Zvijezde oko lijepog mjeseca
skriše svoje svijetlo lice,
jer puna mjesečina
osvijetljuje cijeli krajolik
svojim srebrnim svijetlom.

Moje je srce

Kao zumbul, koji u planini
izgaze nogama pastiri,
pa zgažen leži i u purpuru krvari.

Djevojci koja ne voli poeziju

Kad umreš, na odar će te izložiti,
a zatim će uspomena na tebe izblijedeti,
jer ti ne bereš pijerijske ruže,
što cvjetaju na radost sunca.

Tako ćeš nepoznata lutati po Hadovu carstvu
lebdeći kroz povorke mračnih sjena.

San i noć

San, s očima crnim, -
u noći, koja sazrijeva prije vremena...
*
Kad ih je san tokom cijele noći varao...
*
O da noć bude dvostruka za me...
*
O utvaro noćna što crnim krilima
salijećeš moje uzglavlje
slična snu, milom božanstvu.

Djevojaštvo

Zaručnica:
- Djevojaštvo, djevojaštvo, kamo odlaziš,
kad si me već napustilo?"

Djevojaštvo;
- Više nikad k tebi neću doći,
više nikad u tvoj naručaj neću doći!"

Zora

Uzvišena Zora...
Najednom se pojavi Zora
sa sandalama zlatnim,..

Gledajte, promatrajte
kako sviće Zora,
ta uzvišena božica,
ljepotica sa zlatnim potplatama.

Fragment

Ljubav danas razdire moje srce.
Ona je ko vjetar koji u planini
na hrastove stoljetne udara...

[alexandermagic]

Hymn Of Apollo

The sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie,
Curtained with star-inwoven tapestries,
From the broad moonlight of the sky,
Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes,--
Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn,
Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone.


Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome,
I walk over the mountains and the waves,
Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam;
My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves
Are filled with my bright presence, and the air
Leaves the green Earth to my embraces bare.


The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill
Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day;
All men who do or even imagine ill
Fly me, and from the glory of my ray
Good minds and open actions take new might,
Until diminished by the reign of Night.


I feed the clouds, the rainbows, and the flowers,
With their ethereal colors; the Moon's globe,
And the pure stars in their eternal bowers,
Are cinctured with my power as with a robe;
Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine,
Are portions of one power, which is mine.


I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven;
Then with unwilling steps I wander down
Into the clouds of the Atlantic even;
For grief that I depart they weep and frown:
What look is more delightful than the smile
With which I soothe them from the western isle?


I am the eye with which the Universe
Beholds itself, and knows it is divine;
All harmony of instrument or verse,
All prophecy, all medicine, is mine,
All light of art or nature; - to my song
Victory and praise in its own right belong.

[Speculum Columbae]

U tminama borave
orlovi i neustrašivo hode sinovi Alpa preko ponora
lako građenim mostovima.
Zato, jer zgomilani su uokrug
vrhunci vremena,
a najvoljeniji blizu borave, i malakšu
na najrazdvojenijim brdima,
daj nam tad, nedužna vodo,
o krila nam daj, u najvernijem smislu
da pređemo preko i vratimo se.

http://blogkojinikonecita.blogspot.rs/2 ... atmos.html" target="_blank

[Speculum Columbae]

Itaka

Kada kreneš na put za Itaku
zaželi da dug to bude put,
pothvata pun, opasnosti i saznanja.
Lestrigonaca, Kiklopa
i srditog Posejdona ne plaši se!
Na takve nikada naići nećeš
sve dok misao je tvoja uzvišena
i dok birana se osjećanja tiču tvoga duha i tvog tijela.

Niti Lestrigonce, nit Kiklopa
niti divljeg Posejdona ti susresti nećeš
ako ne nosiš ih u samome sebi
i ako ih duša tvoja ne iznosi preda te.

Zaželi da dug bude to put
svitanja ljetnjih pun
u koja ćeš – kolike li radosti –
ulazit u luke prvi put viđene.
Pred feničkim zastani tezgama
i snabdij se finim stvarčicama:
sedefom, koraljom, ambrom, slonovačom;
uzmi svakovrsnih razbludnih mirisa,
što više upravo raskošnih mirisa.
Pođi u mnoge gradove misirske
da učiš, i da poučiš se kod mudraca njinih.

I na umu uvijek Itaku zadrži.
Stići na nju tvoja je sudbina.
Al' nipošto ne žuri na tom putu.
Bolje neka mnogo godina potraje
da na otok pristaneš ko starac
bogat onim što na putu stekao si
ne očekujući da Itaka bogatstvo ti dadne.

Ona ti je dala divno putovanje.
Bez nje ne bi ni krenuo na put.
No ništa ti više ona nema dati.

A ako je siromašnom nađeš, znaj prevarila te nije.
Mudar kakvim si postao i s tolikim iskustvima
shvatićeš već što Itake znače.

Konstantin Kavafi (1863-1933)

[alexandermagic]

Dürer ... <3

[Speculum Columbae]

http://blogkojinikonecita.blogspot.rs/2 ... ovima.html" target="_blank

[Speculum Columbae]

http://blogkojinikonecita.blogspot.rs/2 ... -kosa.html" target="_blank

[Over the rainbow]

We are resolved into the supreme air,
We are made one with what we touch and see,
With our heart's blood each crimson sun is fair,
With our young lives each spring-impassioned tree
Flames into green, the wildest beasts that range
The moor our kinsmen are, all life is one, and all is change.

With beat of systole and of diastole
One grand great life throbs through earth's giant heart,
And mighty waves of single Being roll
From nerve-less germ to man, for we are part
Of every rock and bird and beast and hill,
One with the things that prey on us, and one with what we kill. . . .

One sacrament are consecrate, the earth
Not we alone hath passions hymeneal,
The yellow buttercups that shake for mirth
At daybreak know a pleasure not less real
Than we do, when in some fresh-blossoming wood
We draw the spring into our hearts, and feel that life is good. . . .

Is the light vanished from our golden sun,
Or is this daedal-fashioned earth less fair,
That we are nature's heritors, and one
With every pulse of life that beats the air?
Rather new suns across the sky shall pass,
New splendour come unto the flower, new glory to the grass.

And we two lovers shall not sit afar,
Critics of nature, but the joyous sea
Shall be our raiment, and the bearded star
Shoot arrows at our pleasure! We shall be
Part of the mighty universal whole,
And through all Aeons mix and mingle with the Kosmic Soul!

We shall be notes in that great Symphony
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,
And all the live World's throbbing heart shall be
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years
Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,
The Universe itself shall be our Immortality!

[Speculum Columbae]

S O N E T U S L A V U M A G A R C A

Đordano Bruno

Sveto magaraštvo, i sveto neznanje,
I ludosti sveta, sveta pobožnosti,
Ti jedina duši ulivaš dobrotu,
Ni um, ni učenost, tu ti nisu ravne.

Ni naporno bdenje, nije kadro, vično,
Ni veština kakva, niti kakav izum,
Pa ni sozercanje najvećeg mudraca,
Da dosegne nebo, gde stanište gradiš.

Radoznalci, džaba sve vaše učenje,
Džaba vam da znate šta priroda čini,
Ako zvezde tek su zemlja. vatra, more.

Sveto magaraštvo za to se ne brine,
i sklopljenih ruku na kolena pada,
Od boga da primi, udes što ga čeka.

Ništa trajno nije,
sem plod večnog mira,
Koji Bog nam daje tek u tami groba.

[Speculum Columbae]

Gijom de Loris, Roman o Ruži

Mnogi čovek zove snove
priče lažne i jalove.
Al' mogu se snovi sniti
što nisu neistiniti,
koji imaju svoj razlog.
Mogu uzet kao zalog
autora zvanog Makrob
za kog snovi nisu zla kob,
jer pisa o viziji on
koju ima kralj Scipion.
Kogod misli i ko tvrdi
da je ludost i greh grdni
verovat da znamo kud san
vodi, nek kaže da lud sam,
jer pamet mi veli zdrava
da su snovi tek najava
sreće i zla što će doći,
jer svet koji sni u noći
razne stvari maglovito
posle vidi čak očito.

oko 1230.

[Speculum Columbae]

Ja se ne bojim, Cintija, tužnih Mana,
Niti ja odlažem smrt dužnu lomači.
Al' strah me muči, strašniji od smrti,
Da ću se zbog smrti lišiti tvoje ljubavi.
Ne bih tako nežno gledao ni dete
Kao što će moj prah zaboravljenu draganu.
Junak Filakid i u mračnom stanu
Sećao se uvek svoje mile žene,
Ali se sen Tesalčeva natrag vrati
Kada htede da zagrli drago biće.
Ako li u donjem svetu ima čega
Ko odana sen reći ću uvek sebi:
"Moćna ljubav prelazi kobne obale."
Nek tamo dođu lepe poluboginje
- zarobljene Trojanke, plen Argivaca,
Ni za jednu Cintija, ne bih mario,
Ako bi pravedna zemlja dopustila.
Kad bi ti sudbina dala dugu starost,
Moje bi suze volele tvoje kosti!
Kad bi ti moj pepeo živoj bio drag,
Smrt mi tada nigde ne bi bila gorka!
Bojim se, Cintija, da mi ne prezreš grob,
Da te Amor ne odvoji od mog pepela
I tako prisili da ne plačeš više.
Najvernija žena popusti pretnjama.
Uživajmo dok je moguće u ljubavi,
Koja neće nikad biti dosta duga.

Propercije, Elegija I.19

[Garbo]

Kad u ponocnom se iznenada zacuje casu
nevidljiva druzba sto prolazi ovuda
s muzikom zanosnom i sa glasnim poklicima-
ne tuguj zaludno za srecom sto ode,
za delima promasenim, i za snovanjima
sto zivot ih u varke pretvori.
Kao covjek odavno vec spreman, i odvazan na to,
zbogom reci Aleksandriji koja iscezava.
I nadasve ne zavaravaj se, ne govori sebi
da samo je san to bio, da te usi zavedose;
ne priginji pred takvim se ispraznim nadama.

Kao covek odavno već spreman i odvazan na to,
kako dostoji ti, tvom ugledu u ovome gradu,
okreni se, korakom odlucnim do prozora dodji
i slusaj s ganucem, ne sa preklinjanjem
il sa tuzbom kukavice,
ko poslednje tvoje uzivanje, slusaj one zvuke,
glazbala divna misticne druzine,
i tad zbogom reci Aleksandriji koju gubis.

Konstantinos Kavafis

[Garbo]

Reci tom kajanju da se umjeri,
kajanju svakako dobrom, ali opasno pristrasnom.
Nemoj se prošlošću opterećivati i mučiti toliko.
Nemoj pridavati toliku važnost sebi.

Zlo koje si učinio bilo je manje
nego što pretpostavljaš; daleko manje.

Vrlina koja ti je donijela kajanje sada
i onda je bila prikrivena u tebi.

Vidi kako jedan doživljaj, koji ti se nenadno
vraća u sjećanje, objašnjava
uzrok tvog čina koji ti je izgledao
nedostojan, ali sada biva opravdan.

Nemoj se u svoje pamćenje apsolutno pouzdati:
mnogo si zaboravio - razne sitnice -
koje su te dovoljno opravdavale.

I nemoj da misliš da si onoga kome je nepravda nanesena
poznavao tako dobro.
Verovatno je imao darove, za koje nisi znao;
ni ogrebotine možda nisu ono
što ti misliš (ne poznajući njegov život)
da su bile strašne rane koje si mu nanio ti.

Nemoj se pouzdati u svoje slabo pamćenje.
Umjeri kajanje koje je uvijek
do izmišljotine pristrasno prema tebi.


Konstantinos Kavafis

[sallys]

http://www.poemhunter.com/best-poems/ma ... ss-of-war/

[Speculum Columbae]

Urnisao sam se vinom u četiri popodne, upropastio sebi dan pre toga, ali je tu makar gete:

Kamenje, kaži mi štogod, govor’te, visoke palate!
Ulice, recite reč! zašto si, genije, nem?
Sve je prepuno duše sred svetih zidina tvojih,
večiti Rime; tek preda mnom ćuti još sve.
Ko će mi šanuti na kom prozoru spaziću jednom
premilu čiji plam moju će krepiti krv?
Zar još ne slutim kuda ka njoj i od nje ću ići
vazda i vazda, skup trošeći vremena dar?
Crkve još razgledam, zdanja, ruine, stubove, kao
smotren čovek što svoj korisno provodi put.
Ali će brzo to proći, i jedan jedini hram će,
Amorov samo hram, primati vernika svog.
Ceo si svet, o Rime, al' da si ljubavi lišen,
niti bi svet bio svet, niti bi Rim bio Rim.

Rimske elegije, I

[Speculum Columbae]

Kako si u jutarnjem blesku
odasvud užagrilo u mene,
proleće dragane!
Stostrukom ljubavnom slašću
uz srce mi se pripija
toplote tvoje večne
sveto osećanje,
beskrajna lepoto.

O, kad bih te uzeti mogao
u naručja!
Ah, na grudima tvojim
počivam, čeznem,
a cveće, trava tvoja,
uz srce mi se priljubljuju.
Ti hladiš ljutu
žeđ mojih grudi,
ljupki jutarnji vetre!
Slavuj me s ljubavlju
doziva iz maglene dolje.

O, idem, idem!
Kuda? Ah, kuda?
Uvis, uvis stremi put.
Svijaju se oblaci
naniže, oblaci
povijaju se put čežnjive ljubavi.
K meni! K meni!
U krilu vašem
uvis!
Grleći grljen!
Uvis na grudi tvoje,
svevoleći oče.

J. V. fon Gete, Ganimed (1774)

[hlaefdige]

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

[Speculum Columbae]

ayyyyyyyy


http://posledevedesetgodina.blogspot.rs ... ister.html" target="_blank

[Pauceti]

On being prepared

1. Now. Sometimes when I'm by myself
I imagine my own murder
The open window
Three steps necessary to cross the room
blunt object to the skull
red ribbon in the fill of the carpet against my cheek.

I fixed my hair in the mirror
Changed the song with one with cello
When the find me someone will check the time of death
Someone will do the math, count backwards through the music
Press the buttons back back back
They will figure out which song was playing when it happened
Even when nobody is home I'm careful what I listen to.

2. Then. I used to practice what I would look like
When someone was falling in love with me.
I tilted my head, looked at the distance,
"I don't even notice you falling in love with me"
I've practiced to the mirror
"I'm to preoccupied with what I'm doing"
Nobody wants to be noticed when they are falling in love
It is a private moment, whoever was falling in love in me I reasoned
Deserved not to be disturbed.

3. Sometime. I am working in my pajamas
there is a knock on the door
teeth unbrushed, hair unwashed
I leave anything to answer.
You kiss me and take off you coat
"Don't have long to spare" you say
"Just came by to say hello"
and in the other room my music skips
the carpet squishes between my toes
"I wasn't expecting you".

[Pauceti]

Choices

If i can't do
what i want to do
then my job is to not
do what i don't want
to do
It's not the same thing
but it's the best i can
do

If i can't have
what i want . . . then
my job is to want
what i've got
and be satisfied
that at least there
is something more to want

Since i can't go
where i need
to go . . . then i must . . . go
where the signs point
through always understanding
parallel movement
isn't lateral

When i can't express
what i really feel
i practice feeling
what i can express
and none of it is equal
I know
but that's why mankind
alone among the animals
learns to cry

Nikki Giovanni

[Over the rainbow]

"The power of the dog"
Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie-
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma or tumour, or fits,
And the vet'a unspoken prescriptions runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns
Then you will find - it's your own affair-
But.. you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone - wherever it goes - for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay,
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long -
So why in-Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

[Over the rainbow]

"XVII (I do not love you..)"
Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

[Over the rainbow]

"To One in Paradise"
Edgar Allan Poe

Thou wast that all to me, love,
For which my soul did pine-
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
“On! on!”-but o’er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o’er!
No more-no more-no more-
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.

[Over the rainbow]

"Die slowly"
Martha Medeiros

He who becomes the slave of habit,
who follows the same routines every day,
who never changes brand,
who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
who does not talk to people he doesn’t know
dies slowly.

He who makes television his guru
dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
who prefers black on white,
and the dots on the "i" to a whirlpool of emotions,
precisely those that recover the gleam of the eyes,
smiles from the yawns,
hearts from the stumbling and feelings
dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
who is unhappy at work,
who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
to thus follow a dream,
those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
die slowly.

He who does not travel,
who does not read,
who can not hear music,
who does not find grace in himself,
dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his self love,
who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
about the rain that never stops,
dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know,
he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let's avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

[Over the rainbow]

"Sve boje sveta"
Miroslav Antić

Čudan je ovaj svet u meni
kad se od lišća zazeleni
ili poplavi kao svila
od dečije kose i ptičjih krila.

Čudan je ovaj svet u meni
kad sve požuti i porumeni.

Van mene dosta boja živi.
Van mene katkad svet i posivi,
ili se smrači i naoblači.

Dobro je zato što postoje
i ove moje lepše boje.
I neki osmeh sunčan i plah.
I vetar nečujan kao dah.
Pa sve kad trne
i sve kad svene,
kad tmurno izgleda svet oko mene,
u meni živi sto vatrometa
nekakvog šarenijeg i lepšeg sveta.

Ponekad želim da podelim
moje rumeno sa gradom celim,
i moje belo sa žutom travom,
i moje žuto sa noći plavom,
i moje plavo sa rekom snenom…

Jedino čuvam ono zeleno
za neke oči što nisu moje,
al’ iz njih rastu,
odavno rastu
sve druge oči i druge boje.

[Speculum Columbae]

Koje je ovo mesto, koja oblast, koji kraj sveta?
Gde sam to ja? Blizu sunčeva izlaska, ili kraj rude
ledenog Medveda? Da li to krajnja obala Hesperijskog mora
ovde povlači granicu Okeanu?
Koji to vazduh udišem? Kakvo se to tlo pruža pod ovim malaksalim telom?
Zacelo se vratih - zašto vidim krvava tela razasuta po kući?
Zar se duh još nije oslobodio podzemnih priviđenja? Zar mi četa mrtvih
još i sad, po povratku, lebdi pred očima?
Sramota me je da priznam: strah me je. Neko mi,
neko mi krupno zlo sluti duh.
Gde si, oče? Gde je ona
supruga, ponosna na jato dečice? Zašto mi o levom boku
nema lavlje kože? Gde mi se dede zaklon
i u isti mah mekano uzglavlje za Herkulove snove?
Kamo mi strele? Kamo luk? Ko to meni
živome mogade da oduzme oružje? Ko to steče takav jedan plen,
ko ne ustuknu čak ni pred usnulim Herkulom?
O, voleo bih da vidim svoga pobednika, još kako bih voleo!
Hajde, pokaži se, junačino - ti, koga otac, napustivši nebesa,
rodi kao novog deliju - ti, za čiji nastanak
noć potraja duže no moja
-...Ali, kakav to užas vidim?
Deca leže pokošena krvavim ubistvom,
supruga umorena. Koji to Lik vlada kraljevstvom?
Ko se to drznu da i posle Herkulovog povratka počini toliko zločine u Tebi?
Deder sad, pritecite mi u pomoć, svaki od vas - i ti što živiš kraj Izmena,
i ti s aktejskih polja, i ti iz kraljevstva Dardanca Pelopa,
što ga dvostruko more zapljuskuje - odaj mi vinovnika užasnog pokolja!
Nek se moj gnev sruči na sve: dušmanin je
ko god mi ne otkrije dušmanina. Šta, kriješ se, pobedniče Alkejevićev?
Hajde, samo napred - pa bilo da želiš da osvetiš ljute kočije
krvavog Tračanina, ili Gerionovo krdo,
ili gospodare Libije - neću ni za čas oklevati da podelim megdan sa tobom.
Evo me - golog; možeš me nenaoružanog napastim
mojim sopstvenim oružjem...
Zašto se Tesej i otac klone
moga pogleda? Što kriju lica?
Ta ostavite se plača! Govori: ko to sve moje otera u smrt - što ćutiš oče?
Onda reci ti, Teseju, ali s odanošću koja Teseju dolikuje!
...Obojica ćutke zaklanjaju stidljiva lica i krišom liju suze.
Čega se stideti u ovolikoj nesreći? Da nam nije obesni vladar argivskog grada
- da nam nije neprijateljska vojska umirućeg Lika
nanela toliki poraz?
Preklinjem te, oče, radi slave mojih podviga,
radi blagoslova tvoga imena, koji mi je vazda donosio
sreću, reci: ko nam opustiši dom?
Čijim plenom postadoh?

Seneka, Mahniti Heraklo

[Garbo]

Nisam se sputao. Sve sam napustio i otišao.
U uživanja, koja su bila pola stvarna,
a pola zamišljena u mojoj glavi,
otišao sam u obasjanu noc.
I ispio sam jakog vina, kako ih
piju samo oni, smeonici pohote.

Kostantinos Kavafis

[Garbo]

Ne znam koliko duša imam.
Menjam se svakog trena.
Stalno me progone.
Nikad sebe nisam našao
niti sebi poverovao.
Dušu imam samo.
Ko dušu ima, mira nema.
Ko vidi, samo je ono što vidi.
Ko oseća, nije ono što je.
Držim se onoga što jesam i što vidim,
oni me vraćaju a ne ja sâm.
Svaki moj san i moja želja
je ona koja se rađa a moja nije.
Ja sam slika sebe samog.
Na sopstvenom putu služim,
različitom, nestalnom, usamljenom.
Ne znam osetiti gde sam.
Zbog toga, lud čitaću
svoje biće, kao stranice.
Ono što sledi, predviđeno nije
što je prošlo, zaboravljeno je,
beležim napomenu onoga što pročitah
ono što prosudih i osetih.
Čitam ponovo i kažem :” Zar sam to bio ja?”
zašto sam to napisao, samo Bog zna.


Fernando Pessoa

[Garbo]

Bolja je ptica koja prolazi i ne ostavlja traga,
nego životinja, za kojom ostaju stope u zemlji.
Ptica prolazi i zaboravlja i tako mora biti.
Životinja kazuje da je nekada bila
tamo gdje je više nema,
a to nicemu ne služi.

Sjecanje, to je izdaja Prirode,
jer jucerašnja Priroda nije Priroda.
Ono što je bilo više nije ništa
i sjecati se znaci ne vidjeti.

Prolazi, ptico, prolazi, i nauci me prolaziti.


Fernando Pessoa

[alexandermagic]

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty- the unhidden heart-
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter;

But when within thy wave she looks
Which glistens then, and trembles
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy stream,
Her image deeply lies
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul-searching eyes.

E. A. Poe