Vida Nenadic


I Am Not Going To Tell You The Name Of The City - Poem by Vida Nenadic

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which my steps are still searching for me.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
whose bridges are longer than life.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
under whom even the sky was like a tent.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I learned to start up a new journey as soon as I arrive.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which is never to grow old.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I met the eyes with the color of the sky.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I was knocking on my own doors from inside.

I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which was a cage far too small for my wings.

Vida Nenadic


Comments about I Am Not Going To Tell You The Name Of The City by Vida Nenadic

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 2, 2008

Poem Edited: Tuesday, September 6, 2011


[Hata Bildir]