At sunset when cities dive
into the wells made silent by faces
there begins the creation of the world
The sky of sparkling stars
written by Chaos onto the blackness
the emnrace of the midnight swallows
whatever is made silent by the faces
there begins the longing of the world
The first whispers burning at dawn
beyond the streams of wonder
encaged images are set free
being made silent by faces
within the light
there begins the speech of the world
Govor svijeta
U predvecerja kad gradovi utihnu
u bezdane sto ih je licem cutati
pocinje stvaranje svijeta
nebo rasprslih zvijezda
na crnom ispisuje haos
rasirenih ruku ponoc guta
sto licem je cutati
pocinje teznja svijeta
Zorom usplamtjeli prvi zamori
nad potocima cudjenja
iz kaveza izlaze slike
sto ih je licem cutati
na svjetlosti
pocinje govor svijeta
2007.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem