Is for a blind the breakfast without a table
Within he ties the sound
Within he ties the fingers when he plays
A piece of bread to the sky that hardly eats
For a triptych of hunger raised
For a meal to the sky cut
Gitara od žica
Slijepom je dorucak bez stola
U koji veže zvuk
U koji veže prste kad svira
Pitavom nebu okrajak hljeba
Za triptih gladi uzgajan
Za obrok neba isjecen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem