A lone strar's fulgent eye
dark midnight's chill
creep into the veins
of frozen words of silence.
...
In the country hall of Lescovac
Echoe the pangs of past,
The young Roma lads
Sing their way
...
I am amused
At the gentle smile
You always hold
On your rodomont face.
...
Welcome to the valley of dust
welcome to the valley of mist
strolling over the barren lands
meet the hounds of lust.
...
In these landscapes
guarded for centuries
by the long arms
of the impressive ‘pipals’
...
At four
there is a flurry of steps
on the zebra crossing
the dead veins of the granite road
...
From the top of the mountain hill
Where the Sun keeps its warm head
Every morning,
Runs down the Sun of a new morn
...
A wish runs through
The soft lines
Of your protruding bust,
And a lightening
...
Silent sleeps Danube
Under the blanket of thick mist,
Over the ruby landscapes of Belgrade.
...
Near the broad square
Of the city
Is raised a huge heritage temple
Of Serbo-Byzentine type,
...