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Literature and Ideas

Ode to a Stone

It hatches from a stone that’s flung
and becomes the blind sky’s aperture,
an almost-life, in fact, in flight
from our contorted, wingless shoulders.
Aberrant bird, whose purpose is
the flight of earth, the song of the deserted
sky, which is heard, not understood.
White courtship of wind for that bird of flame!
Bird bricked into brain and into wall,
whom hearing picked from roaring space,
yet whom our eyesight never met,
your death was begun within our ears.
Bird made of stone, may night lament
you with its sultry, insensate stars.
Ispili se iz bačenog kamena
i bude zenica neba oslepelog,
malo života zbilja poletelog
s naših beskrilnih pognutih ramena.
O čudna ptica čija namena
da bude let zemlje i pesma opustelog
neba, koja se čuje al ne shvata. O, belo
udvaranje vetra toj ptici od plamena.
Ptico uzidana u mozak i zid
koju nikad nije upoznao vid
koju je sluh našo u prostorima šumnim,
u našem uhu tvoja se smrt zače.
O kamena ptico nek te noć oplače
zvezdama vrelim zvezdama nerazumnim.

Branko Miljković‎

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