Here's something from my
small pocket on the vest.
Sometimes I wore a watch here,
today only memories:
From him peek a torn sleeve
and the old heart.
Our Heart on the Sleeve
was a symbol of the love
which is made of imagination.
The imagination changed over time
in a meaningless dream.
Maybe that's why you're
sick of sleep paralysis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Srce na rukavu I
Evo ti nešto iz mog
malog džepa na prsluku.
Tu se nekad nosio sat
a danas samo uspomene:
Iz njega vire
pocijepani rukav
i ostarjelo srce.
Naše Srce na rukavu
je bilo simbol ljubavi
koja je napravljena od mašte.
Mašta se vremenom pretvarala
u besmislen san.
Možda zato boluješ od
paralize sna.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem