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Writer's pictureA Too Powerful Word

Blagoje Savić


Blagoje Savić (1951) graduated from Faculty of Philosophy, on the section of Yugoslav Literature, in Pristina, Serbia. He published many collections of poetry: An Apology to the Aim (Izvinjenje cilju, 1975), I Speak for the Second Time (Govorim po drugi put, 1978), The same milk (Isto mleko, 1982), Evening in the Plastic Sandal (Vece u plasticnoj sandal, 1987), Black tail (Crni rep, 1989), Izmornik (Izmornik, 1994), The Communion in the field (Pricest u polju, 1995), Mezra (Mezra, 1999), The Singing of the Fourth Day (Pojanje cetvrtog dana, 2004), Removed World (Pomereni svet, 2005), Lock the Dust (Zakljucaj prah, 2009), Therapy of Consciousness (Terapija svesti, 2017), Two Airs (Dva vazduha, 2019). He has received many awards for his work such: Lazar Vuckovic Prize, Golden Badge of KPZ Serbia, Charter of Sveti knez Lazar for Lifetime Achievement 2015, etc. His poems were translated in several languages. He lives in Vranje, Serbia.



My Manifest on the Will of the Mind

eternity told me writing is a moment

when the word begins

you write - because you are not used to keep silent

it looks so there - and you follow the way

life to become leafy and by its glance to make golden

those sparks that belong to you

below every verse the unwillingness of the gods

haven’t realized itself

my verbal reconciliation stays here with it

where the therapy of consciousness

changed its shape

and here the immobile things start the status

of their vulnerability

the day lasts

at the marked place of your birth

we will never be faithful to our first word

Sleep Condition

shadows of what has been done

did not disappear

think with your heart

religion is not based

on evidence

but on checking

there on the same branch

oblivion is hanged

the fruit is magic the entrance of the gods

kidnapped from human voice

Cioran claims that life does not exist

and death is a state of sleep

Sleep Condition

shadows of what has been done

did not disappear

think with your heart

religion is not based

on evidence

but on checking

there on the same branch

oblivion is hanged

the fruit is magic the entrance of the gods

kidnapped from human voice

Cioran claims that life does not exist

that death is a state of sleep


Direction

I am not sure when the words have disappeared

a mouse jumps over my shoe in the balcony

and comes to eat my bread

I can hear distant church bells

a distant grave

becomes a moor

people can’t recognize

the one they bury

I put a caterpillar on my hook

and give it

to a greater famine

than mine


The Disappearing Day

the short moment of life

come again

and all I have said

in two seconds

has already moved

like a piercing maturity

after such the difficult year

we are going to forget the pure sins


the disappearing day

on the trace of someone’s voice

sweetened with skin scent

speaks about our lust

after death

the shadow is clearly outlined in

wheat

elongated



Translated by Danijela Trajković

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