Saturday, November 26, 2016
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
'Sensei, here,' I said, holding out the package, which was now wrinkled from being carried around for a while.
'What is it?' Sensei took the parcel, placing his briefcase on the ground and carefully unwrapping it. The small grater emerged. It glimmered in the pale light that shone through the shop curtain. It gleamed even more brightly than it had in the shop in Kappabashi.
'It's a grater, isn't it?'
'That's right.'
'Is it for me?'
'Of course.'
It was a brusque exchange. Which was just like our usual conversation. I looked up at the sky and scratched the top of my head. Sensei carefully rewrapped the grater and put it in his briefcase, then straightened up and started walking.
I counted stars as I walked. I counted them, looking up at the sky and trailing behind Sensei.
H.Kawakami
'What is it?' Sensei took the parcel, placing his briefcase on the ground and carefully unwrapping it. The small grater emerged. It glimmered in the pale light that shone through the shop curtain. It gleamed even more brightly than it had in the shop in Kappabashi.
'It's a grater, isn't it?'
'That's right.'
'Is it for me?'
'Of course.'
It was a brusque exchange. Which was just like our usual conversation. I looked up at the sky and scratched the top of my head. Sensei carefully rewrapped the grater and put it in his briefcase, then straightened up and started walking.
I counted stars as I walked. I counted them, looking up at the sky and trailing behind Sensei.
H.Kawakami
Monday, November 21, 2016
Saturday, November 19, 2016
I once met a woman who wasn't there.
She was long and tall and slim and fair.
I love this woman with all my heart.
And when she vanished, it tore me apart.
She was long and tall and slim and fair.
I love this woman with all my heart.
And when she vanished, it tore me apart.
I once met a woman who wasn't there.
I followed her down to the pit of despair.
She was not evil, she was kind.
It was not her, but me...
Who was blind.
I followed her down to the pit of despair.
She was not evil, she was kind.
It was not her, but me...
Who was blind.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Friday, November 4, 2016
Five swivel chairs were ranged along the other side of the observation car of the Kyoto express. Oki Toshio noticed that the one on the end was quietly revolving with the movement of the train. He could not take his eyes from it. The low armchairs on his side of the car did not swivel.
Oki was alone in the observation car. Slouched deep in his armchair, he watched the end chair turn. Not that it kept turning in the same direction, at the same speed; sometimes it went a little faster, or a little slower, or even stopped and began turning in the opposite direction. To look at that one revolving chair, wheeling before him in the empty car, made him feel lonely. Thoughts of the past began flickering through his mind.
...
The loud chattering in a foreign language made Oki feel all the more lonely. That revolving chair in the observation car, turning by itself, came before him. It was as he saw his own loneliness silently turning round and round within his heart.
Beauty and Sadness, Yasunari Kawabata
Oki was alone in the observation car. Slouched deep in his armchair, he watched the end chair turn. Not that it kept turning in the same direction, at the same speed; sometimes it went a little faster, or a little slower, or even stopped and began turning in the opposite direction. To look at that one revolving chair, wheeling before him in the empty car, made him feel lonely. Thoughts of the past began flickering through his mind.
...
The loud chattering in a foreign language made Oki feel all the more lonely. That revolving chair in the observation car, turning by itself, came before him. It was as he saw his own loneliness silently turning round and round within his heart.
Beauty and Sadness, Yasunari Kawabata
Ljubav poezije
Branko Miljkovic
Ja volim srecu koja nije srecna
Pesmu koja miri zavadjene reci
Slobodu koja ima svoje robove
I usnu koja se kupuje za poljubac
Ja volim rec o koju se otimaju dve slike
I sliku nacrtanu na ocnom kapku iznutra
Cvetove koji se prepiru sa vremenom
U ime buducih plodova i prolecne casti
Ja volim sve sto se krece jer sve sto se krece
Krece se po zakonima mirovanja i smrti
Volim sve istine koje nisu obavezne
Jer prava istina je stidljiva kao miris
Ja volim jucerasnje neznosti
Da kazem svom telu "dosta" i da sanjam bilje
Prste oci sluh drugacije rasporedjene
U sumi negoli u telu
Branko Miljkovic
Ja volim srecu koja nije srecna
Pesmu koja miri zavadjene reci
Slobodu koja ima svoje robove
I usnu koja se kupuje za poljubac
Ja volim rec o koju se otimaju dve slike
I sliku nacrtanu na ocnom kapku iznutra
Cvetove koji se prepiru sa vremenom
U ime buducih plodova i prolecne casti
Ja volim sve sto se krece jer sve sto se krece
Krece se po zakonima mirovanja i smrti
Volim sve istine koje nisu obavezne
Jer prava istina je stidljiva kao miris
Ja volim jucerasnje neznosti
Da kazem svom telu "dosta" i da sanjam bilje
Prste oci sluh drugacije rasporedjene
U sumi negoli u telu
Monday, October 24, 2016
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Monday, August 29, 2016
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Friday, August 26, 2016
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Стеван Раичковић: ПОВРАТАК
Она има руке од траве.
Она има глас од ветра и жита.
Она има око од кише.
Зашто сам измислио да се не вратим?
Она има груди од руже.
Она има колено од белутка.
Она има кук од снега и рибе.
Зашто сам измислио да се не вратим?
Она има смех од лишћа.
Она има ход од воде и песка.
Она има кожу од протегнутог лабуда.
Зашто сам измислио да се не вратим?
Она има косу од мојих прстију.
Она има мозак од мојих година.
Она има слух од мојих корака.
Зашто сам измислио да се не вратим?
Стеван Раичковић: У МОЈОЈ ГЛАВИ СТАНУЈЕШ
У мојој глави станујеш: ту ти је
Соба и мали балкон с ког пуца
Видик на моје мисли најтананије.
Понекад слушаш како ми закуца
Срце ко живи лептир из кутије.
Ја ти одшкринем врата: низ басамаке
Силазиш у врт за ког нико не зна.
На поветарцу лебдиш попут сламке.
(Док за то време, можда: неопрезна
Стојиш на неком рубу, испред замке...)
Некад (у мојој глави док баш скачеш
У морску пену, испод сунца, гола)
спазим те како по киши прескачеш
Барице и сва у блату до пола
Журиш на посао с лицем ко да плачеш.
Пролази дан за даном и сва свота
Времена твог се по два пута збира:
Па пола око мога клупка мота.
Видим са твога лица пуног мира
Да не знаш како живиш два живота.
У мојој глави станујеш и дубиш
Црне и беле ходнике за моје
Мисли: како ми бежиш ил ме љубиш?
Ван тебе друге мисли не постоје.
Само док спавам ти се некуд губиш.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Monday, August 15, 2016
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Monday, July 18, 2016
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Monday, July 4, 2016
Saturday, July 2, 2016
Friday, July 1, 2016
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Monday, June 27, 2016
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Izvukao je ruku iz dzepa i ispruzio dlan sa svime sto je mogao naci u njemu.
"Dakle, dva novcica od 50 penija za jedan novcic od funte i dva mala dugmeta za jedno veliko?", pitala sam.
Smejao se, moj dragi prijatelj, koji je pedesetih godina dosao iz Sudana da studira inzenjerstvo i koji zna najraznovrsnije price o sudanskim psima i Plavom i Belom Nilu.
"Ah, ja uvek imam nedostajajuce dugmice", rekao je.
"Dakle, dva novcica od 50 penija za jedan novcic od funte i dva mala dugmeta za jedno veliko?", pitala sam.
Smejao se, moj dragi prijatelj, koji je pedesetih godina dosao iz Sudana da studira inzenjerstvo i koji zna najraznovrsnije price o sudanskim psima i Plavom i Belom Nilu.
"Ah, ja uvek imam nedostajajuce dugmice", rekao je.
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Monday, May 30, 2016
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Friday, May 20, 2016
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Monday, April 25, 2016
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Monday, March 28, 2016
The Rescue
In drifts of sleep I came upon you
Buried to your waist in snow.
You reached your arms out: I came to
Like water in a dream of thaw.
SEAMUS HEANEY
Thursday, March 17, 2016
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