Poems

Poems

In my pocket I still keep the key to my former home
Building a house after the war
The sun warms everyone everywhere equally
With a rusty bayonet from World War One
Come, love, quickly into the garden
I don"t know when I will go blind
Whenever we meet, we gaze at each other for a long time
Most often I speak to the dead
All my life I am saying good-bye to life

Come, love, quickly into the garden!… Before
the shadow of the cloud changes its image.
Before the splendour of the blooming flowers and ripening
fruits I have planted and cultivated for you disappears…
The sunflower will bend its head and look
blindly into itself like you and I, after silently
looking at each other and waiting in vain for an answer to an
unspoken question. The shine of olive silverlings will darken,
and the golden sun will no longer be reflected in
your eyes, and mine, and those of the cat… Come, love, quickly
into the garden!… Before the shadow of the cloud
changes its image… Because after that, nothing
in our life will be the same again.

AuthorJosip Osti
2018-08-21T17:23:27+00:00 April 1st, 2004|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 35|0 Comments