I don't like when you coldly
tell me that you love me.
I feel like a stranger in the desert of love.
Immediately I think of one, strange woman:
She was a croupier at the casino of love.
Passionate gamblers sat at the table
and she elegantly shared
cold smiles and false love messages.
When she got, she was happy
as a child who has a new toy,
and when she was losing, silly and cruel,
would close the table for the game of love.
One night, in a half-empty empty room,
she realized that her life was
a dead pendulum for an watch of love
who hasn't shown time for a long time.
She was a plain, moving doll in the hands
of passionate gamblers with feelings.
She realized that forever spinning in circle
like a little ball on the roulette of love.
She disappeared in the same way as it had come:
No pomp, with a cold smile,
but with the sword of love in the heart,
the gift of the last player
whom she cheated that evening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mač ljubavi
Ne volim kad mi hladno kažeš da me voliš.
Osjećam se kao stranac u pustinji ljubavi.
Odmah pomislim na jednu, čudnu ženu:
Bila je krupije u kockarnici ljubavi.
Za stolom su sjedili strastveni kockari
a ona je elegantno dijelila
hladne osmijehe i lažne ljubavne poruke.
Kad je dobijala bila je vesela
kao dijete koje je ima novu igračku,
a kad je gubila, oholo i okrutno,
bi zatvarala sto sa igrom ljubavi.
Jedne noći u polumraku prazne sale
ona je shvatila da je njen život
mrtvo klatno sa satu ljubavi
koji odavno ne pokazuje vrijeme.
Bila je obična, pokretna lutka u rukama
strasnih kockara osjećanjima.
Shvatila je da se vječno vrti u krug
kao malena kuglica na ruletu ljubavi.
Nestala je onako kako je došla:
Bez pompe, hladnog osmijeha,
ali sa mačem ljubavi u srcu,
poklonom poslednjeg igrača
koga je, te večeri, prevarila.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice story, well presented