Suncica Denic
Exile
We are the new age fugitives
rejects of bygone years
in flight… in plight
in awe
before teh great unknown expanse
as we – who are who we are…
lame time trekkers
wire dancers
thumbless beggars
caress the meadows and bees
and play the flutes
while our little finger
tempts eternity
Translated by Nikola Miscevic
Yerma
Yerma, my sweet Yerma
I do fathom your solitude
almost…
the wrath
as you murmur and drift downstream
relentless
as you tell tales
and cry inconsolable
along your precarious meander
how else did you plough
your gorgeous gorges
how did you
aggravate and mend the open wounds
if not with your nectar drops
heavenly rains
and mourning leaves
have fed you
foliage of poplar and asp
weeping willow and lilac
linden before the looted fortress of hearth
and that ancient mulberry
the healer of monks
and dreaming destitute souls
those countless drops of yours
will merge and surge
and your torrent Yerma
will flood the shores and ramparts
until we drown Yerma – one and all…
Translated by Nikola Miscevic
Vilajet (Vilayet)
Maestral drizzle
rampant predatory feasts for beasts
exiled masses
honour to the foe
for earning my blind trust
in this deep drift of april snow
ahhh
who may have faith yet
in the ancient folksongs3
as Biljana whitens the sheets
in the stream
as orphaned Sulaiman’s4
mother
weeps
and Kosovo plain remembers
the yore
as great faiths of the world
collide with eternity
and stray birds dissect the galaxy
cormorants dive
to tame the ocean deep
bolted gates creak before the onslaught
while Biljana whitens her immaculate sheets
and sings
somewhere
between Heaven and Earth…
Translated by Nikola Miscevic
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