Ukleti brod


Sanjah jednog jutra siv, ukleti brod
S belim jedrima obgrljenim nebom
Kroz huj talasa belih i proključale pene
Bokove sljubljuje. Brod tone u žal.
Kretao se olujom nošen, prkoseći Divu
Mornaru koji jedri s vitkim veslom crnim
I štapom prosjačkim pokazuje k nebu
Uz bljesak bure vuče brod niz beskraj
A iznad broda zvezda, u maglini tmine
Začuđeno gleda pocrneli talas čiji
Slap ko jezik ka njoj se uspravlja
Da joj se naruga, opustelom sjaju
Tad me nešto kosnu i protrljah oči
Zanoćio u telu kalderonski san
Skočanjena tama, stena moj brod satre
Nasukan, skliznuo je niz slap žute vatre.
To nadire sunce-speklo mi je obraz
Lešinare skupi, svaki me onjuši
Pod pećnicom dana moje meso kopni
Oči mi probada i grudi mi guši

Svilenkasti zrak čudovišta veka
Greje obraz nebo, a pakao ga suši.

U mračnome domu, ko će razumeti?
kad i budno oko krivuda kroz tela
zaključanog sveta, novog mladog sveta
čist je pad u raj dok miču se zlodela

Al’ nema oluje koja bi da spere
prokletstvo čame, sastrugane kože
uvenulih snova spram crnoga kralja
uspavanih dana i odsanjanih noći.

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Author: Leila Samarrai

I am a person of Himalayan seclusion, I am Atalanta in vestments of Helen of Troy, for me there is no term (aphorism there is, maybe). Cosmopolitan is too modest word for one who wanders across epochs without the help of the time machine. Some people consider me weird, because usually this is so when they do not understand something or someone that do not represent their existence. I love cats, an animals in general, I like challenges, I am persistent, I am combative (sometimes I can exaggerate in that - in all) If I were stylistic figure my mortal name would be Hyperbole. Read me. Know me. Conquer me :)

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