Image found HERE

*Translation under – writen originaly on Serbian


If the sky was this noon a Lady,
she wore purple.
We did not drink her veins
nor eyes,
she wafted
to our bedrooms
like a pregnant swallow
and slipped under our covers
she whispered to our ears
“Darling, pick the berries,
adorn your hair with dry branches,
dress your breasts in me
like I am a medal
and let’s go to the city
to watch the owl-light,
hands next to other hands
dieing together
as thought we are in a rush
to reach somewhere,
still passionately rosy.”
If the sky was this noon a lady,
there behind the power plant
was her thigh.
She yelled like from across a world:
“Take your paintbrush, darling,
write on me with henna
all the cursed lyrics that you know.
Let’s cross the bridge
with our lips tightly sealed,
thinking there is someone
across the river
just for the two of us,
while we call each other-
strictly affectionately –
an another chaste December leaving
after barely drinking
even half a cup
of coffee.

“Let us be tender”,
she tells us,
“when somebody before us,
hollow and wounded,
so easily undresses;
Let’s let the swarm
of red butterflies
heal our wounds.”
If the sky was this noon a Lady,
she came with a sack of velvet sorrow
full of memories of other days,
when we wore who knows which colors,
when with sickles and with knives
and teeth
from our souls
we were reaping weeds.
She came alone and willing
to shatter at our feet
and to cry on your shoulder precisely
she was your sister.

If the sky was this noon a Lady,
she sipped from glasses
as thought this morning
was a grand celebration
and nothing else,
like not a single look
or a love or a letter
drowned in the Sava,
and nobody could tell
and nobody could know,
there and here
among all the eyes of the others,
how the sky
with it’s being
was the only one
who really knew you.



Ako je nebo ovog podneva bilo dama
nosila je ljubicasto.
Nismo pili iz njenih vena
i ociju,
dolebdela je
do nasih spavacih soba
kao trudna lastavica
i uvukla nam se
nonsalantno u postelje.
nam je saputala:
“Dragi, uberite ribizle.
okitite kose suvim grancicama,
zavezite me oko struka
i odenite me na grudi kao da sam orden
i hajdemo u grad
da gledamo suton
ruka do ruke
zajedno umiruci,
kao da nekud zurimo
i dalje strastveno rumeni.”
Ako je nebo u ovo podne bilo dama
tu joj je iza elektrane
na svodu
otkriveno bilo bedro,
Kao iz drugog sveta da je vikala:
“Uzmite kicice, dragi,
napisite po meni henom
stihove proklete sve koje znate.
Hajdemo nemih usana
preci mostove
kao da neko bas na nas ceka
sa druge strane reke,
dok se od miloste nazivamo
jos jednim
Decembrom cednim u odlasku
posle jedva pola
popijene kafe.”

“Hajde budimo nezni”,
veli ona nama radoznalo,
“kad se neko pred nama,
ispijen I ranjen,
tako olako skida.
Hajde pustimo
roj leptira crvenih
rane da nam vida.”
Ako je nebo u ovo podne bilo dama
dosla je noseci dzak velvetne tuge
pun secanja na neke dane druge
kad smo ko zna koje boje
na sebi nosili,
kad smo srpovima i nozevima
i zubima,
tu na nasim dusama,
korov kosili.
Dosla je sama I voljna
pred noge da nam se sruci
i da place bas tebi na ramenu
kao da ti je sestra.

Ako je nebo ovog podneva bilo dama
ispijala je case
kao da se jutros slavilo,
kao da se nije nijedan pogled,
niti ljubav niti pismo,
u Savi udavio
i nije se videlo,
nije se doznalo,
tu I ovde, pogledom pred drugima,
da te je nebo
svojim bicem
jedino spoznalo.

~ by Oloriel on December 22, 2013.

31 Responses to “Violet”

  1. That is a truly beautiful poem!

  2. So very beautiful. Such imagery… love especially:
    “Let’s let the swarm
    of red butterflies
    heal our wounds.”
    If the sky was this noon a Lady,
    she came with a sack of velvet sorrow
    full of memories of other days,
    when we wore who knows which colors,
    when with sickles and with knives
    and teeth
    from our souls
    we were reaping weeds.”

  3. A magnum opus of imagination.
    Great work oloriel.

  4. For me, purple is color of silence, muted sounds muffled by none other by themselfs, fav parts:
    “….i hajdemo u grad
    da gledamo suton
    ruka do ruke
    zajedno umiruci,
    kao da nekud zurimo….”

    “…Hajdemo nemih usana
    preci mostove
    kao da neko bas na nas ceka
    sa druge strane reke…”

  5. Divni stihovi, delujeu poletno 🙂

  6. treba mi pljuga posle ovih tvojih pesama (a ni ne pusim) ne pada ti forma, ne znam da li ih objavljujes po izbacivanju ili ih imas u steku od ranije, ali svaka je dobra!

  7. Iako je, koliko znam, boja depresivnih i / ili melanholičnih, meni je prva asocijacija nasilje, kada napišeš violet, i to neko skriveno, nevidljivo, pritajeno. Pa ipak, ako napišeš ljubičasta, prva asocijacija je poljubac u polju lavande, u Provansi. Jedna karta za dve vožnje.
    (I tvoj cepelin pruža vožnju sa pogledom)

    • Sad si me horhe podsetio na jednu anegdotu. Setamo tako ja i zmu gradom, on nesto fotografishe, i gledamo grafite. Gleda on, cita i kaze “Ko su ovi “Violet boys” ?”, ja mu kazem to je navijacka grupa,samo su pogreshno napisali Violent.
      Jedna od boja koja izgleda nekako mnogo neznije i potpunije kad je mi izgovaramo, nego neko drugi 🙂

  8. Gorgeous those closing lines just wow loved it =)

  9. Every single line = pure magnificence. I am amazed!

  10. Such haunting beauty Selena, I love the refrain. The bursts of color makes the imagery even more vivid. And the last line connects so deeply that it hooks me into another reading, which is a pleasure! In this particular piece, I feel you connect very deeply with your city/surroundings.

  11. This is beautiful, Oloriel. Beautiful.

  12. Bonjour Oloriel/Mirjana/Esme/Elena

    I supect that the thoughts that explode Inside your head to create the collision of the written word with the spiritual beauty of your poetry are transient and visit, like unexpected guests, bringing gifts of creativity – and once placed in your care depart into the mists of tomorrowland never to return. There can be no other logical explanation for these literary gems other than something supernaturally busy Inside your universe – a place we are clamouring to see more of as we leave the last poem, read over and over again, drinking in the words and exquisite phrases like a hopelessly addicted lover and wait in breathless anticipation for the next.

    Perhaps one day l might create a picture that could compliment your words.

    Regards et Meilleur Vouex


    • Thank you very much Dan, I really feel like just printing out this comment and framing it, that’s how not just good it made me feel, but more in tune with both myself and the big world out there. Thank you once again!

  13. What a wonderful poem.. The repeated lines contrasted with harshness of power plants create for me a wonderful vulnerability.. And the sky are sometimes comforting ..

    • Thank you very much for reading and taking time to leave me a word of your own. The image you mentioned is my own personal favourite because I believe it reflects a scenery we all see daily yet we hardly find time to think about it.

  14. […] Violet […]

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