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Thread: Poezija

  1. #26
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    Default Mihail Ljermontov - Tebi

    Za nevine si odviše ti mila.
    Ljubazna odveć, ljubavi da se latiš!
    Za pola sveta ti bi sreća bila,
    al’ sama nikad sreće nećeš znati;
    Dve sreće nigda nema za čoveka –
    jesi li vid’la brzu, moćnu reku?
    Obale cvatu, ali celim tokom
    dno joj je uvek hladno i duboko!
    Last edited by Mylene; 18-10-21 at 23:23.

  2. #27
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    Default Marina Cvetajeva - Trošnost

    Trošnost, u kojoj dogorevam
    sa ćutanjem posmatraš kletim,
    ti si kamenit - a ja pevam.
    Ti si spomenik - a ja letim.

    I najlepši je maj procvali -
    ništavan pred večnošću svakom.
    Ali ja sam ptica – i ne žali

    što podležem zakonu lakom.

  3. #28
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    Default

    Mortality
    William Knox, 1789 - 1825
    O why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
    Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
    A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
    He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

    The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
    Be scattered around, and together be laid;
    And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
    Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

    The child that a mother attended and loved,
    The mother that infant’s affection that proved;
    The husband that mother and infant that blessed,
    Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest.

    The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
    Shone beauty and pleasure,—her triumphs are by;
    And the memory of those that beloved her and praised
    Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

    The hand of the king that the scepter hath borne,
    The brow of the priest that the miter hath worn,
    The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
    Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

    The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
    The herdsman who climbed with his goats to the steep,
    The beggar that wandered in search of his bread,
    Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

    The saint that enjoyed the communion of heaven,
    The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven,
    The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
    Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

    So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed
    That wither away to let others succeed;
    So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
    To repeat every tale that hath often been told.

    For we are the same that our fathers have been;
    We see the same sights that our fathers have seen,—
    We drink the same stream,and we feel the same sun,
    And we run the same course that our fathers have run.

    The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
    From the death we are shrinking, they too would shrink;
    To the life we are clinging to, they too would cling;
    But it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing.

    They loved, but the story we cannot unfold;
    They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;
    They grieved, but no wail from their slumber may come;
    They enjoyed, but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

    They died, ay! they died! and we things that are now,
    Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
    Who make in their dwellings a transient abode,
    Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

    Yea! hope and despondence, and pleasure and pain,
    Are mingled together like sunshine and rain;
    And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge,
    Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

    ‘Tis the wink of an eye, ‘tis the draught of a breath,
    From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
    From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud,—
    O why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
    Here I opened wide the door,
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

  4. #29
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    Default Vilijam Batler Jejts - Nebeske Tkanine

    Da imam nebeske tkanine vezene,
    zlatnim i srebrnim svetlom ispletene,
    tkanine plave i zagasite i tamne
    od noci i svetla i polutame,
    ja bih ih rasirio pred tvoja stopala:
    Ali siromasan sam, imam tek snove;
    Raširio sam snove pred tvoja stopala;
    Hodaj nežno jer hodaš po mojim snovima.

  5. #30
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    Default

    Gledam te - Pero Zubac mod.

    Gledam te. Ti si, a nisi.
    Ruke su tvoje. A nisu.

    Gledam te. Sneg na kosi.
    I korak isti. Drag.
    I vetar pahulje nosi
    i zameće ti trag.

    Gledam te. A sneg sipa.
    I sve te više znam.
    Here I opened wide the door,
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

  6. #31
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    Default

    A Dream Within a Dream


    Take this kiss upon the brow!
    And, in parting from you now,
    Thus much let me avow —
    You are not wrong, who deem
    That my days have been a dream;
    Yet if hope has flown away
    In a night, or in a day,
    In a vision, or in none,
    Is it therefore the less gone?
    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.
    I stand amid the roar
    Of a surf-tormented shore,
    And I hold within my hand
    Grains of the golden sand —
    How few! yet how they creep
    Through my fingers to the deep,
    While I weep — while I weep!
    O God! Can I not grasp
    Them with a tighter clasp?
    O God! can I not save
    One from the pitiless wave?
    Is all that we see or seem
    But a dream within a dream?


    Edgar Allen Poe


    Here I opened wide the door,
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

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  8. #32
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    Default

    Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

  9. #33
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    Default

    Crv Pobednik

    Gle! slavne li noći
    Na kraju godina samotnih!
    Mnogo je anđela krilatih, što su hteli doći,
    Pod velom i suzama natopljeni,
    U pozorište da vide
    Igru strahova i nada silnih,
    Dok svirači snažno izduvavaju
    Muziku svetova davnih.

    Mimeza, ko božanstvo sa visina samo,
    Mrmori tiho sebi u bradu,
    I leti tamo-amo —
    Obične lutke, oni što banu pa se iskradu
    Po naredbi velikih, bezličnih stvari
    Od pozornice prave paradu
    I krilima svojim od kondora stvaraju
    Nesrećnu nakaradu!

    Ta nemoguća drama! — uveren budi
    Zaboravljena neće biti!
    Sa svojim prividom gonjenim večno od ljudi
    Što ga nikad neće dohvatiti
    Kružeći istim putem, a uvek
    Na isto mesto dolaziti,
    I sa još mnogo ludila i mnogo greha
    I užasa u čitavoj ovoj uroti.

    Ali gle! sred igre što se odvija,
    Stvorenje neko puzeći upada!
    Krvavi stvor što se otud svija
    Ulazi na scenu sada!
    Uvija se! — vija! — u smrtnim trzajima
    I igra joj plenom pada,
    Serafini jecaju kraj zmijskog zuba
    Što u ljudsku krv ubada.

    Napolju — napolju su svetla — svi napolje sada!
    I na drhtave prilike
    Zavesa, pokrov mrtvih pada,
    Uz olujne hučne slike,
    I anđeli bezbojni i bledi
    Uspravni i otkriveni, slažu se bez replike
    Da je drama tragedija — "čovek",
    A herojsko ime pobedniku, crvu pripada.

    Edgar Allen Poe
    Here I opened wide the door,
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

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  11. #34
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    Default

    Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

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  13. #35
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    Default

    Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

  14. #36
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    Default

    Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

  15. #37
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    Default

    Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

  16. #38
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    Default

    Otpali cvijet
    vratio se na granu?
    – Ne, to je leptir!

    Moritake
    Here I opened wide the door,
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

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