Through the cracks of speech
I’ll shoot at the sky
Some limits can take some rest beyond
I’ll sheaf my hair
I’ll cross my arms
And whisper
Here I am
MOJE USNE RASTACU SVIJET
U PUKOTINAMA GOVORA
PROSTRIJELICU NEBO
DA SE NA NJEMU ODMORE GRANICE
KOSU VEZACU U SNOPOVE
RUKE PREKRSITI
I SAPUTATI
TU SAM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem