Where does love go when it is forgotten


fb3dQuotes23There is nothing left, a broken piece of shape and colour
the time took some time or several hours
in which I do not feel geographical inequality
eternally lost from pleasure and flutes fell

And now I’m a queen in my own lodge, listening to music myself
innocent and beautiful and framed as a god
breathing in the dream of life
which lasts only in music
melted by myth, but part of the myth
About the rebellious purity of one who wonders as he crawls
in front of the memory of stone dug in nettles
like a bald snail on the skin of a young leaf
like a kid on the doorstep of a dark room
Where does love go when it is forgotten
when mounds of ivory and cedar were forgotten with the crowd
our bodies are like flowers
our bodies are like knives
our eyes are from a man in love
who can redeem old pain
That man, that angel, that demon
and the eyes of him who watches them are blinding
as God’s forehead as he imagines the world
like a sea of blood and gold
like a thirsty sandy shore
It absorbed the legends of the people who flooded the ocean
across the sea, the whole world I used to decorate my gloomy royal hands

Get up, look, though you have no hope, dream of the dawn
dawn dawn

 

all rights deserved by ©Leila Samarrai, 2019

The starving cans (Serbian included)


I stumbled over my colours

I cramped in myself

and they are always hidden from themselves

they are always stopped short

The perfect circle around the smell

A rat’s raised leg

shot up into the heights

 

I’ve collected everything: starving cans,

enemies who wanted to poison me

Stormy shadow, metaphors, precipice

I got angry with the bus cards

Never

I’ll never be able to throw anything away.

 

I dumped waste at the dreary poetry cemetery

It is everywhere

My song.. .. it never was, inside her forgetfulness

And my story .. my story .. was my story

 

in no place, they don’t look

Once upon a time, there was meow and meow

you smell

still smells the same

I meow

 

They.. are dead .. and grown over swear  – words in the wind

appeared in this den

My house, my house, you took over my red home

Red times

No pain.

Maybe later.

 

I feel a recurrence of one’s presence

I feel that old

Inappropriate to stay here anymore

(Scream in the distance)

 

They never liked you

They never liked you

They never liked you

And you’re just pretending, too

The wind’s forgotten appeared

 

someone takes off your memory

be happy they forgot about you

you are finally free

****

Naletela sam na svoje boje

Slamala sam se u sebi

Uvek su skriveni od sebe oni..

uvek su zaustavljeni

savršen krug okolo mirisa

podignuta noga pacova

puca u visine

 

Sakupila sam sve: pregladnele limenke

neprijatelje koji su me hteli otrovati

olujne sene, metafore, provalije..

bila sam ljuta na autobuske karte

Nikad

nikad neću moći ništa da bacim

 

Bacila sam otpad na grozno groblje turobne poezije

Ono je svuda

moja pesma… nikada nije bila moja pesma u njenoj

zaboravnosti

i moja priča.. moja priča.. bila je moja priča..

 

Ni na jedno mestu, ne gledaju.. jednom davno..

Jednom davno, bilo je – mjau i mjau

smrdiš

i dalje miriše isto

Ja – mjau

Oni su mrtvi

prerasli su psovke na vetru

pojavio se u ovoj jazbini

 

Moja kuća, moja kuća

preuzeli su moj crveni dom

crvena vremena

bez bola. možda kasnije..

 

Osećam ponavljanje prisutnosti

osećam se tako staro

neprikladno je da ostanem ovde.. više..

 

(vrisak u daljini)

Nikad te nisu voleli

Nikad te nisu voleli

Nikad te nisu voleli

I ti se samo pretvaraš

Pojavio se vetar…

neko ti skida pamćenje

budi srećna što su zaboravili na tebe

napokon si slobodna

Thus spoke my mother, Leila Samarrai


Thus spoke my mother.

Seek no longer the soil
Forgotten among the trees
Under which you were born

In the chosen night
When the grasshoppers flew away from the terraces
Into the heap of voices filled with hatred
Directed towards me

Silent mother
Not even a sound to flicker within me
How could I have known
About the other side of maps

Are they coming yet to take me
Rooted in the last morning of a bullet

I arise barefoot
The sea is frightened
Like ground from thunder