Istina-Truth Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

Istina je ko moga pitanja
Sa riječju odnešenom do stvaranja jutra
Sa kosom puštenom niz rubove zore
I danom što zna da svaki dan je sutra

Ljepota je ko mog izvornog lika
Savršeno oblikovanog u kalupu svjetla
Sa bićem svakog dobra sjemenom života
Što raste tek kad ljubav ga je rekla

Sa sobom srasla za drugog stvorena
U Jedno slivena ja sad hoću više
Otisnuta dlanom u eone buduće
Vremenom ovim vječnost me piše


Truth is the who of my question
With the word carried into the creation of morning
With the hair let down the edges of the dawn
And the day that knows each day is tomorrow

Beauty is the who of my original character
Perfectly shaped in the mould of light
With the being of each goodness and the seed of life
That grows only if uttered by love

Grown with myself created for another
Melted within One now I want more
With the hand imprinted in eons of the future
Eterenally I am written through this time