She spoke English as if she had
escaped from Shakespeare's comedy.
Her silk stockings rhythmically rustled.
I was looking for errors in their strings
while the professor's step and her legs
were eden gardens to my imagination.
Suddenly she stopped and said softly to me:
"Aren't you from second grade?
Don't you learn German? "
I lifted my head and looked her in the eye.
Confused, ashamed of puberty
blush on my face, I replied:
"Yes, but I prefer English."
She laughed because she recognized
the language I spoke and she continued
to take the same easy step
which over time became a part
of my most beautiful dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Profesorica engleskog jezika
Govorila je engleski jezik
kao da je pobjegla
iz Šekrpirove komedije.
Ritmično su šuštale njene čarape od svile.
Ja sam tražio greške u njihovim žicama
dok su profesoričin korak i njene noge
bili mojoj mašti pravi rajski vrtovi.
Iznenada je zastala je i rekla mi je tiho:
"Zar vi niste iz drugog razreda?
Zar vi ne učite njemački jezik? "
Podigao sam glavu i gledao sam je u oči.
Zbunjen, stideći se pubertetskog
rumenila na licu, odgovorio sam:
"Da, ali više volim engleski jezik."
Nasmijala se jer je prepoznala
jezik kojim sam govorio i nastavila je
da korača istim, laganim korakom
koji je vremenom postao dio
mojih, najljepših snova.
Yes! ! ! Professor of English! ! ! ! Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
learner has no gender learner has no country learning is highest character of life