POETRY – Srgjan Sekulić

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POETRY – Srgjan Sekulić

Noah in Salonta


I hear my mother’s calls from the garden.
I see her hunched back, dressed in black watering the plants.
Then I look at my legs.
My ankles and legs covered with red spots
many mosquitoes and ants.

I look down at my feet.
They are, maybe I would like it like that,
bonds with the soil.

I feel the energy, the warmth of the soil,
but it is also black.
I look at my mother again.

Now standing but still small.
The gushes of wind play with her black locks.
She approaches me, tells me that the garlic sprouted,
I smile.

The next moment with lot of effort and scream
I jump and I shove my head into the black soil.
I enjoy as my mouth is filled with it,
and my mother, dressed in black, howls.

AuthorSrgjan Sekulić
Translated byElizabeta Bakovska
2018-09-20T12:44:44+00:00 May 12th, 2018|Categories: Poetry, Literature, Blesok no. 119|Tags: |0 Comments