Love for younger men,
like a saracene blade,
stabbing into the heart
of older woman who feel young.
All women at, a certain age,
feel it as a need.
Some survive
with the rational choice,
and some have passion
like a Thorn bird;
sing their own irrational poem
so they stab in the blade
of a beloved sword.
They will remain stucked,
on the pillar of shame,
for the rest of their life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sve ptice ne umiru pjevajući
Ljubav prema mlađim muškarcima
se, kao saracenska oštrica,
zabija u srca starijih žena.
Sve žene u nekom životnom dobu
osjete to kao potrebu.
Neke se razumom izbore da prežive,
a neke imaju strast kao ptica trn;
zapjevaju svoju iracionalnu pjesmu
pa se zabiju u oštricu voljenog mača.
One ostanu da vise zabodene,
na stubu srama, do kraja života.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem