Poetryzine presents the selected poems by the Serbian poet Vladimir D. Jankovic
Microorganism
Omne animal post coitem triste est –
Aristotle saw it, fed up with rumbling grief;
After love being cheerful, I am the essence’s thief –
I’m a microorganism, which means: the best.
I adore when my brightened senses make me swing,
When I lose it all, even my sense of humor;
In my heart fatigue then remains just a rumor,
Neither hearing questions, nor asking anything.
Having copulated, animals are mournful,
People too, plants, towards merriment are scornful,
A microorganism is gladsome, empty;
All the worldly triffles a telescope ignores,
There is only virgin joy in a cell that snores –
Let that moment last forever, and in plenty.
There where it is now
Seven days have gone since it left me all alone,
Or was that ten, or twelve, I couldn’t really tell.
The picture just got lost, the frame rings like a bell.
The wall sunlessly sinks, sorrow is my friend sworn.
So I took the hammer, thought: let me save the frame,
A handful of nails, also, and they made me bleed;
Blood was a reminder harsh, it forced me to see
What I’d caught in blurry dreams, what’s in real a shame.
Sun is brown like deep mud, grass not even yellow,
Ripped off flowers scuttle, the window is shallow,
Where the blossoms stood, my little world tame and sound.
Crucified slats sagging, the frame silent standing,
Only sorrow glows on, my heart’s wrath is ending –
Guess my picture’s doing well there where it is now.
Atlantis
All those tender yearnings of old
Lie now swallowed in the deep,
Thirst engulfed them, and hunger’s bold,
Hopes were first to go to sleep.
Every touch that You remember
Salty water took as fuel,
In a dream, thrown by the Sender,
You reached Neptune’s vestibule.
Where happy You used to shudder
In those moisty, sensual hours
There’s no sail and there’s no rudder
That will save you from this shower.
A boat will find its fall someday
To where You twinkle in that lair,
Then You’ll conceive a crooked way
To be his fortress of dispair.
When the watery court of Yours
Feel the wandering soul’s feet,
You should glee, but ask for more,
Like a wild cat, purr for meat.
’Cause all you’re able now to do
Is to catch some blind sea mice,
Thence your eyes blink like a fool’s
Your skin is tight with all its vice.
Neither curse, nor golden glory
Don’t remind me of Your ways,
All You did is make me worry,
I never stood on land those days.
I’m dreaming of a lump of earth
While shaking on this wretched raft;
But my awareness is my berth:
To save my life from you was craft.
*Vladimir D. Jankovic is a prominent Serbian author, writer, literary translator (from French and English) and essayist. His works have been published in many Serbian and international magazines, e-magazines and web portals. He translated more than 250 books, among which 105 are novels. He pubished four poetry collections. He regularly publishes columns in Serbian daily newspapers and on the web portals. He lives in Belgrade.
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