Poetry is a reflection of the soul,
a small crystal of fate
which the child didn't choose.
No one is born a poet.
The poet polished his destiny.
If it suddenly enhances the shine
the crystal of fate can burn
and the poet becomes a cold stone
on which it says: It was once love.
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Kristal sudbine
Poezija je odraz duše,
mali kristal sudbine
koju dijete nije biralo.
Zato niko nije rođen kao pjesnik.
Pjesnik svoju sudbinu izbrusi.
Ako je naglo pojača sjaj
njegov kristal sagori
i pjesnik postane hladan kamen
na kome piše: Jednom je volio.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem