I was born to early for the phlegm of the Earth
and the lances that I brought are to bluntly for this dirt.
However high the heart must be streaming
it s liquid is blood and will keep on bleeding.
...
Let us rest in rustle oblivion
for the winter willows on our chests,
pressing our numb lungs with fragrance of onion
as birds are leaving their nests.
...
As Joana plucks the asparagus
up on the hills near by
the gathers of her rufous
dress collecting Sun up high.
...
Break me dawn, for I've come betimes,
sulphurous, antically, olfactive, greener moss,
to dozing, roundabouts of his rhymes,
mizzling shrewishly, unintentional macron above loss.
...
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin http: //www.youtube.com/results? search_query=bjanka+ivas+mami%C4%87&aq=f http: //trogirportal.info/trogir/hrvatska/renesansa-i-barok-u-kneevom-dvoru/ http: //www.trogir.hr/index.aspx? newsId=671)
Born Too Early
I was born to early for the phlegm of the Earth
and the lances that I brought are to bluntly for this dirt.
However high the heart must be streaming
it s liquid is blood and will keep on bleeding.
If I could talk how I use to rode on the railway of shadows
and witnessed the puff of green diffuzing over meadows
where once was a child, it would be me saying
rather blind, how you should postpone the praying.
And I won t say that for it s to soon, I know,
though this meadow will grow and grow
inside as a kind of torrential,
leaving me to cope with what s essential.