Poezija

helenatheblue · Pristupio: 25 Jun 2008 Poruke: 38 Studijska grupa: Istorija umetnosti

REC
Rec tvoja daleko snaznija,daleko jaca je
nego da si me ubio
i prosuo pepeo po tlu
na kojem hodas...
Da te zauvek na mene podseca,na delo koje si pocinio.
Rec tvoja je unistila ljubav
koju sam gajila i mislila da nikad nece prestati.da ce citavog zivota trajati.......
U trenutku...izgovora reci tvojih,
kao da me je neko nozem posekao,
tragove ostavljao i rekao............
to si zasluzila
samo zato sto si iskreno volela,
osobu vrednu prezira!

Hetera · Pristupio: 13 Sep 2007 Poruke: 426 Studijska grupa: Klasične nauke

Jel` ovo prevod neke pesme?

hesperarethusa · Pristupio: 20 Jul 2007 Poruke: 62 Studijska grupa: Filozofija

Baal's Hymn
Whilst his mother`s womb contained the growing baal
Even then the sky was waiting quiet and pale
Naked, young, immensely marvellous
Like baal loved it, when he came to us

That same sky remained with him in joy and care
Even when baal slept peaceful and unaware
At night a lilac sky, a drunken baal
Turning pious as the sky grows pale

So through hospital, cathedral, whiskey bar
Baal kept moving onwards and just let things go
When baal`s tired, boys, baal cannot fall far
He will have his sky down there below

When the sinners congregate in shame together
Baal lay naked, revelling in their distress
Only sky, a sky that will go on forever
Formed a blanket for his nakedness

And that lusty girl, the world, who`ll laughing yield
To the men who`ll stand the pressure of her thighs
Sometimes gave him love-bites, such as can`t be healed
Baal survived it, he just used his eyes

And when baal saw lots of corpses scattered round
He felt twice the thrill, despite the lack of room
"space enough" said baal, "then i`ll thicken the ground
Space enough within this woman`s womb"

Any vice for baal has got its useful side
It`s the man who practices it, he can`t abide
Vices have their point, once you see it as such
Stick to two for one will be too much

Slackness, softness are the sort of things to shun
Nothing could be harder than the quest for fun
Lots of strength is needed and experience too
Swollen bellies can embarrass you

Under gloomy stars and this poor veil of tears
Baal will graze a pasture till it disappears
Once it`s been digested to the forest`s teeth
Baal trod singing for a well earned sleep

Baal can spot the vultures in the stormy sky
As they wait up there to see if baal will die
Sometimes baal pretends he`s dead, but vultures swoop
Baal in silence dines on vulture-soup

When the dark womb drags him down to its prize
What`s the world still mean to baal, he`s overfed
So much sky is lurking still behind his eyes
He`ll just have enough sky when he`s dead

Once the earth`s dark womb engulfed the rotting baal
Even then the sky was up there, quiet and pale
Naked, young, immensely marvellous
Like baal loved it when he lived with us

Farija · Pristupio: 07 Feb 2008 Poruke: 3 Studijska grupa: Filozofija

FURIOZNO DETE

U godinama mastila
bljuvao sam sluz
i meku reku ljiljana
- zlatnih kornjača
zadihanih na toplim
ušima
U piknik moćan i vreo
stao sam , umočenih nožnih prstiju ,
crnac kao grana jasike
jezero kamfora ,
kaput od joda
Jezik glečera , nezapamćenog
mesečara , u okovima mačke
u slepoj dlaci i glomaznim
kovrdžama , mlazeva hitronogih
- i prehlađenih

* * *

Grlo modro i rasparano
ubodom sunčeve metle
rurnuto kož potočić ulja
(ugrizi tmastih jasenova)
niz tinjajuće bedro
- gnojavo carski
. . . niz bedro u gorkim
šumama , u žbunovima
kafe . Kao
ranjeni ždral nasmejan
u slini alkohola

Gutao sam topli hlad .
Mokar , ko’ brkovi mačke .

Dobar - kao ljuljaška
od morfijuma i zlata
u čistoj gleđi
- osmeha moje majke

* * *

Galije od elegantnog
emajla , izlečiće moje
srce. Genije od elementarne
drhtavice , probiće
moje srce . Ož srce
mekog šušnja. Ož srce
toplog žbunja .
- : Gipkih i znojavih dlanova . . .
Nevaspitane lokomotive ! ! . . .
O’ šunjanje rasne lije .
O’ hate dobri , u sapi
konjaka toplog u krvi
vesele vatre , sa
zemljom skvrčenom u
obrazima . O’ zimo ,
modrih salona . O’ zimo
dobrih salona . O’ sveče ,
sveče , i mačko !
Saloni - moji , ogledala
tamna , gde vrije sapun
caruje limun - i
So !
Krotka - i , neukorenjiva .
So ! Naborana stara
al nova , strašno gipka
, i mrka . Elegantna !
Bestidno liptanje !
Mrcvarenje musavih
mrtvaca !

Smešna geometrija
preciznih padova sa
purpurnih balkona . . .
Iz lakiranog nokta
ide jedan lisac .
Da , evo ga po mene !
U skučenim sobama
njegove ružičastosti
stari Toma je imao
pašnjak . I ribnjak
sa azurnim rogovima .
Rogovi Azura !
Kako peku !
Dišu mudro .
Lepota je - njihova
teskoba . I mokra
paranoja . Oslobodite
Crnce !
Ja sam gušteru
ubrizgao čitav
školski kup .
Okupao se , pošto je
poludeo . A crnčetu
prve malje/drvena
daska na zgurenoj
šali/ko blažni čar-
šavi smetaju .

Oznojena jata
dišu , u povređenoj
ruci , i u malaksa-
lom dimu .
Odjekuju hodnici u
venama . Odjekuju hodni-
ci u školama .
šuplji i plavi ,
- podovi smrskanih griva .

* * *

To svetlo slatko
poigrava . Neko novo nebo
-drhti-na sočnim
opušcima
Drhti ! Dobri
Cigani , psuju
i traže ćebe .
. . . Ono golica staru vena-
vku . Kroči , ko sunđer
okamenjen . Pogled čupa
iz rose ,
: nož , u gustoj i
glupoj krvi . . . -
- Šugavo ždrebence . ! .

Dejan Nikolic
(Iz zbirke "Uputstva za vaspitanje mladih prinčeva")