Weathervane

A philosophical poem by Tatjana.

On the solid ground
Fatal and dangerous
A word or two
Between four sides,
Mild wind in the north,
In the south blows south-eastern wind,
and north-western.
Then, from each side blows the wind,
And the point of adventure.
Bring back the weathervane.

***

I’ve got your titters,
And hardly visible pit on your chin,
And your harsh frowns sometimes clearing out.
Your ears which do not hear anything,
And your strength sometimes I can feel.
I like your lies, truths flying restless,
And your little poetess.
And I remember every scar and birthmark,
And fault thug, and one little finger
Which means to me,
And one relationship hidden that I wanted and didn’t want either,
And dark loneliness.
After you I enjoyed alone.
And not lonely are the messages, not alone are truths,
And not alone are neither you nor I.
There is always someone to bother us,
And we give way today for tomorrow.
We are going out from our lives we lived.

© Tatjana Debeljački

Illustration by: Dragoljub Djuričić
English translation: Danijela Milosavljević

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