a piece of question dreamt of
in a breathing
of the boughs
the autumns grow within the treetops
hours fade away in time
they bloom under the fingers
the moments
eternity memento
already seen
we multiply the matter
endlessly
kriska pitanja odsanjana disanjem
granja
u krosnjama rastu jeseni
s vremenom venu satovi
rascvjetavaju se pod prstima
trenuci
strah vjecnosti
sagledani mnozimo tvar
u nedogled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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