Jankovic Zoran Poems

Unfaithful Women (Lorca)

You brought her on the river
thinking she was a girl.
...

Forgiveness

It's easy to forgive.
It is even easier to pray for forgiveness.
...

Bring out, in your desired darkness,
on a table of the life, largest cake of destiny.
Carefully split it into equal pieces.
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Granny's death

When I was 17 years old
My grandmother died,
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Love is a unit for measuring the present:
Days, hours, minutes and seconds;
entering the past,
a black-white video of memories,
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She said that had same place
in which we can watch.
We were 5000 miles away.
I knew it was our moon.
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I'm writing poems
like a thorn in whom
will bite the Thorn bird.
I did not ask for it.
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Sorry, I'm getting harder to write about you.
I'm less and less fond of my letters.
I slowly shut down your light,
your glow in my eyes.
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Maybe I'll not notice you accidentally.
Maybe I'll forget your face
but your fake manuscript
I'll always be easy to recognize.
...

Maybe one day my grandson
will see your picture and ask:
"Grandpa, who was this woman? "
...