negative creep Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Mozda ne zeli da se bori... Elem, to je jako komplikovana tema i ne zelim da ulazim u to. U svakom slucaju, ako je to stanje Queen_of_the_ryche, razumem je u potpunosti. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Queen_of_the_ryche Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 To je tacno, samo sto je nasa Srbija pasivni posmatrac sopstvene propasti! I to mi uzasno bode oci, gde god, i kad god krenem dalje! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Queen_of_the_ryche Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Thanks, Cenim to! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
negative creep Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Thanks, Cenim to! Nema na cemu. Jedno je kad stvari sagledavas sa strane, a drugo kad si i sam bio u toj situaciji. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gavrosaurus Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Ето, видиш! Већ Вас је две! Against the Evil World! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Queen_of_the_ryche Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 We'll form a clan! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
negative creep Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Jbg, ne mogu da se menjaju potpisi (ne samo kod mene), ali cim admini budu sredili to, oformicemo klan! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gavrosaurus Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Иначе, тема је - "Поезија" ... Зашто нема поезије ... Него препуцавање као и на осталим темема ... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Queen_of_the_ryche Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner They've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker The other is in his pants And the riot squad they're restless They need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight From Desolation Row Cinderella, she seems so easy "It takes one to know one," she smiles And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo, he's moaning "You Belong to Me I Believe" And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend You better leave" And the only sound that's left After the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up On Desolation Row Eto ti Desolation Row...od Bob Dylana Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gavrosaurus Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Ако дођеш Куда ћеш? Ако дођеш Како си? Обриши модрице прогледај и реци ми ... Ако дођеш Машина сећања успорава Ритам капи Ритам Капи заувек Капи Не гледај ме Ружан сам као спржена земља Моје лице је магла Топла и тешка Моје око је у свађи са Душом И језик је у немилости Срца ... Није цела, мрзело ме да куцам, јеби га ... Зове се "Дланови" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Queen_of_the_ryche Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 lepo! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mjaua Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 To je moja "Mala, vesela pesmica" Htela sam da vidim šta drugi kažu...inače, jedina pesma, od svih koje imam, koja je depresivna! Samo sam želela da oslikam stanje drustva, onako kako ga ja vidim! Lepo je sto si postovala svoju pesmu. Ali, zar ne sluzi ,,Snaga reci'' za to? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peti.Maj Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 "Nista nije bilo i nista nece biti, sve postoji, sve ima svoje bitisanje i svoju sadasnjost." Hese - Sidarta Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Druidess Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 PRVO VEČE by : Arthur Rimbaud Ona se bila vrlo svukla, A velika su stabla tu U prozor zlobno krošnjom tukla, Da vide nju, da vide nju. U moju je fotelju sjela, Radosno ruke sklopi tu, Ispod golišavog joj tijela Nožice treptahu na tlu. Pogledah zračak koji bludi - Iz krošnje leptirasti let - U njezin smješak i na grudi, Ko mušica na ružin cvijet. Moj poljubac joj nogu dirne. I kao kaznu za taj grijeh Čuh zvuke bistre i nemirne, Kristalno lijep i surov smijeh. Pod košulju je raširenu Sakrila noge: "Dosta s tim!" - Tu prvu smjelost dopuštenu Kaznila smijehom veselim! Drhtuljke jadne, oči njene, Dodirnuh usnom lagano. Nježno mi glavu tad okrene: "Oh! sviđa mi se, sviđa to! Ali ti moram reći zato..." Ostatak joj u grudi ja Sakrih sa poljupcem, i na to Začuh njen smijeh što znači: da... Ona se bila vrlo svukla, A velika stabla tu U prozor zlobno krošnjom tukla, Da vide nju, da vide nju. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JD Seven Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 PRVO VEČE by : Arthur Rimbaud Ona se bila vrlo svukla, A velika su stabla tu U prozor zlobno krošnjom tukla, Da vide nju, da vide nju. U moju je fotelju sjela, Radosno ruke sklopi tu, Ispod golišavog joj tijela Nožice treptahu na tlu. Pogledah zračak koji bludi - Iz krošnje leptirasti let - U njezin smješak i na grudi, Ko mušica na ružin cvijet. Moj poljubac joj nogu dirne. I kao kaznu za taj grijeh Čuh zvuke bistre i nemirne, Kristalno lijep i surov smijeh. Pod košulju je raširenu Sakrila noge: "Dosta s tim!" - Tu prvu smjelost dopuštenu Kaznila smijehom veselim! Drhtuljke jadne, oči njene, Dodirnuh usnom lagano. Nježno mi glavu tad okrene: "Oh! sviđa mi se, sviđa to! Ali ti moram reći zato..." Ostatak joj u grudi ja Sakrih sa poljupcem, i na to Začuh njen smijeh što znači: da... Ona se bila vrlo svukla, A velika stabla tu U prozor zlobno krošnjom tukla, Da vide nju, da vide nju. Mislim da sam najbolje pisao kad sam se najgore osecao... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
VeronikaJeOdluchilaDaUmre Posted March 23, 2006 Author Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Slatka pesma ona gore. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mjaua Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Mislim da sam najbolje pisao kad sam se najgore osecao... Sto je bre off topic? e ako napravite od ove teme snagu recu streljatju vas sve odreda, samo da se zna Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
VeronikaJeOdluchilaDaUmre Posted March 23, 2006 Author Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 takodje Nemojte, bash je fina tema, i fino prati... samo se vratite na temu i to je to. Majo...okachi neshto onih tovjih Izraelaca ili tako neshto... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JD Seven Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mjaua Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Pa da, Netjemo da sjebemo ovu temu. Snaga reci ima mesta koliko otjete pa se praznite tamo. @JD Seven -> Oh, dramatize! Izraelaca? Hm, cek da vidim sta nisam postovala...uf rmzi me. Ma evo pa sta nisi citala, citaj. Bio sam mesec Moj sin je vrlo tuzan. Cemu god ga ucio- geografiji, ljubavi, stranim jezicima, sto se retko cuju zbog grozne daljine- on uvek njise kolevku u notji, ka meni: ko sam ja? Vise od zaborava. Sam jezik zaboravljenog. I dok mi sin ne shvati sta sam ucinio: dobar sam koliko i mrtav. Sta to radis sa nasim mirnim sinom? Pokrivas ga jorganom, ko hrpom oblaka- mogao bih biti mesec. Sta to radis sa svojim setnim prstima? Oblacis ih u rukavice, i izlazis. Bio sam mesec. Pesme meni 1 Moja dusa je ostetjena kao plutja rezaca dijamanata. Divni i mucni su dani mog zivota. Moje telo je kao novcanica bez pokritja. Ako neko zatrazi zlato moratju da umrem. Moje ruke su vec na svom mestu, i moje oci, i moja kutja, jos samo ja lutam. Lutam. Divni i mucni su dani mog zivota. 2 Svetu i meni oci su zajednicke: njima gledam njega, on gleda mene. Ako placem, svet ne mari. Ali ako svet place u meni potapam svoje obale. 3 Kao dete koje se prlja hranom zelim da se ubrljam problemima sveta. Celo lice, obrve, kosulju, pantalone, stolnjak. haljinu moje dragane, moju majku, planine i nebo, sve ljude, stopala andjela. Ni otisci nasih tela Da smo bili tu, nece ostati kao znaci ni otisci nasih tela, ni nasi ostaci. Svet se zanavek zatvara za nama, vihor brise stope po dinama. Vec se jasno vide dani i godine koje nece biti ni moje ni tvoje, neko vec dovlaci svodovne dine koje nece liti kisu na nas dvoje. I vec se trazi ime tvoje po spiskovima hotela, i spiskovima brodova, cija imena sama po sebi ubijaju srce. Ni 3 jezika koje govorim ni boja moje jave, ni boja moje notji: nista,nista mi nece pomoci. za pcoetak... to je Izraelac - Jehuda Amihaj Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Druidess Posted March 25, 2006 Report Share Posted March 25, 2006 by: William Blake The Sick Rose O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy. Auguries Of Innocence To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour. A Robin Red breast in a Cage Puts all Heaven in a Rage. A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons Shudders Hell thro' all its regions. A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A Horse misus'd upon the Road Calls to Heaven for Human blood. Each outcry of the hunted Hare A fibre from the Brain does tear. A Skylark wounded in the wing, A Cherubim does cease to sing. The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight Does the Rising Sun affright. Every Wolf's & Lion's howl Raises from Hell a Human Soul. The wild deer, wand'ring here & there, Keeps the Human Soul from Care. The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife. The Bat that flits at close of Eve Has left the Brain that won't believe. The Owl that calls upon the Night Speaks the Unbeliever's fright. He who shall hurt the little Wren Shall never be belov'd by Men. He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd Shall never be by Woman lov'd. The wanton Boy that kills the Fly Shall feel the Spider's enmity. He who torments the Chafer's sprite Weaves a Bower in endless Night. The Catterpillar on the Leaf Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief. Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly, For the Last Judgement draweth nigh. He who shall train the Horse to War Shall never pass the Polar Bar. The Beggar's Dog & Widow's Cat, Feed them & thou wilt grow fat. The Gnat that sings his Summer's song Poison gets from Slander's tongue. The poison of the Snake & Newt Is the sweat of Envy's Foot. The poison of the Honey Bee Is the Artist's Jealousy. The Prince's Robes & Beggars' Rags Are Toadstools on the Miser's Bags. A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the Lies you can invent. It is right it should be so; Man was made for Joy & Woe; And when this we rightly know Thro' the World we safely go. Joy & Woe are woven fine, A Clothing for the Soul divine; Under every grief & pine Runs a joy with silken twine. The Babe is more than swadling Bands; Throughout all these Human Lands Tools were made, & born were hands, Every Farmer Understands. Every Tear from Every Eye Becomes a Babe in Eternity. This is caught by Females bright And return'd to its own delight. The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar Are Waves that Beat on Heaven's Shore. The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath Writes Revenge in realms of death. The Beggar's Rags, fluttering in Air, Does to Rags the Heavens tear. The Soldier arm'd with Sword & Gun, Palsied strikes the Summer's Sun. The poor Man's Farthing is worth more Than all the Gold on Afric's Shore. One Mite wrung from the Labrer's hands Shall buy & sell the Miser's lands: Or, if protected from on high, Does that whole Nation sell & buy. He who mocks the Infant's Faith Shall be mock'd in Age & Death. He who shall teach the Child to Doubt The rotting Grave shall ne'er get out. He who respects the Infant's faith Triumph's over Hell & Death. The Child's Toys & the Old Man's Reasons Are the Fruits of the Two seasons. The Questioner, who sits so sly, Shall never know how to Reply. He who replies to words of Doubt Doth put the Light of Knowledge out. The Strongest Poison ever known Came from Caesar's Laurel Crown. Nought can deform the Human Race Like the Armour's iron brace. When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow. A Riddle or the Cricket's Cry Is to Doubt a fit Reply. The Emmet's Inch & Eagle's Mile Make Lame Philosophy to smile. He who Doubts from what he sees Will ne'er believe, do what you Please. If the Sun & Moon should doubt They'd immediately Go out. To be in a Passion you Good may do, But no Good if a Passion is in you. The Whore & Gambler, by the State Licenc'd, build that Nation's Fate. The Harlot's cry from Street to Street Shall weave Old England's winding Sheet. The Winner's Shout, the Loser's Curse, Dance before dead England's Hearse. Every Night & every Morn Some to Misery are Born. Every Morn & every Night Some are Born to sweet Delight. Some ar Born to sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night. We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro' the Eye Which was Born in a Night to Perish in a Night When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light. God Appears & God is Light To those poor Souls who dwell in the Night, But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archibald Reiss Posted March 27, 2006 Report Share Posted March 27, 2006 SONET To su reci uvek iste koje kasne gorku ljubav i svet. One su uspesni prestanak jave, al' ne san kad se izjasne sunca za noc, vec nesto trece, neutesni zbog cega jesmo. Izvod iz cudesne basne sna. Gorke obale na kojima neumesni stojimo okrenuti svome pocetku gresni zbog gubitka vida kada svetlost zgasne. U snu smo oni cije zaljubljene usne traze reci bez cilja, bez izmisljenih predela. Oh te reci kako mogu da ublaze ako su od sna. Lepoto neuvela reci bez senke kada ko casu sunce drzimo u snu gledajuci u crne vrhunce. - B. Miljkovic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ObiHobit Posted March 27, 2006 Report Share Posted March 27, 2006 Jehuda ima neke dobre pesme prevodi su dobri je l znaš ko ih je? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mjaua Posted March 27, 2006 Report Share Posted March 27, 2006 Jehuda ima neke dobre pesme prevodi su dobri je l znaš ko ih je? Izabrali i preveli David Albahari Milosh Komadina Rasha Livada Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Druidess Posted March 27, 2006 Report Share Posted March 27, 2006 @JBJ Svaka chast za Sonet, chovek je genije... Begunica by: Rabindranath Tagore Dodji, prolece, smeh ljubavnice zemljin, neka zakuca srece suma, nestrpljivo da se izrazi! Dodji u naletima nemira usred lisca i cveca koje hita da se razvije. Kao sjajna pobuna, baci se u noc, u tamu vode, iznad zemlje, oglasi slobodu zarobljnih klica! Kao smeh munje, urlik oluje, odjekni u bucnom gradu, oslobodi rec ugusenu, napor koji je pao u letargiju, osnazi nasu borbu malaksalu, budi pobednik smrti! Secam se toga dana. Pljusak je besneo, pa se smirio, i ponovo poceo, cudljiv, s duvanjem vetra. Uzeh svoju spravu za sviranje. Nemarno sam dodirivao zice; nehotice muzika je pratila ritam naleta vetra i kise. Ona je bila krisom ostavila svoj posao, zastala kod mojih vrata, pobegla, dvoumeci se. Vratila se, ostala trenutak naslonjena na zid; najzad je tiho usla u sobu i sela. Pognute glave hitro okrece iglu u tisini. Uskoro zaostaje, i ide da pogleda kroz prozor drvored taman od kise. Jedan cas kisnog popodneva, punog senki, pesme i tisine. Nista drugo. Te noci ispevao sam jednu pesmu, ali ti nisi bila tu. Pronasao sam reci koje sam uzalud trazio vazdan. Jest, iz nedara nocne tisine one su se slile u svirku, dok su se zvezde palile jedna za drugom Ali ti nisi bila tu. Hteo sam jutros da ti pevam pesmu svoju: ali iako nisam zaboravio melodiju, buntovne reci mi izmicu sada kraj si kad mene. Zadrhtacu bez sumnje ako se ikad budemo sreli u drugome zivotu, u svetlosti udaljenog sveta. Zaustavljajuci se, prepoznacu tvoje oci, tamne kao jutarnje zvezde, i znacu da su pripadale zaboravljenom sumraku predjasnjeg zivota. Reci cu: car tvoj lica nije samo u njemu, u nju se utkala zarka svetlost moga pogleda pri susretu koji se ne pamti, i moja ljubav joj je dala tajnu koja se izgubila. Uvecala si me svojom ljubavlju, mene koji sam samo jedan covek izmedju drugih, koji plovi obicnim tokom, pokretan voljom promenljive milosti sveta. Dala si mi mesto tamo gde pesnici svih vremena donose svoje darove, gde ljubavnici u ime vecnog pozdravljaju jedan drugoga kroz stoleca. Ljudi zurno prolaze ispred mene na trgu - ne opazajuci kako je moje telo postalo dragoceno od tvog milovanja, ne znajuci da u sebi nosimtvoj poljubac kao sto sunce nosi u svojoj lopti vatru bozanskog dodira, kojom sija vecito. Gazeci travu na stazi,zacuh: ''Poznajes li me?'' Osvrnuh se, pogledah je i rekoh: ''Ne mogu vezati ni jedno ime za tvoje lice'' Ona odgovori: ''Ja sam prva velika tuga tvoje mladosti''. Njene oci su blistale kao rosno jutro. Pocutah trenutak, a zatim zapitah: ''Jesi li iscrpla sav teret suza?'' Osmehnu se i ne odgovori. Razumeh da je njen plac imao vremena da nauci govor osmeha. ''Nekada'', prosapta ona, ''govorio si da ces uvek voleti svoju tugu''. Zbunjen, rekoh: ''Istina je, ali prosle su godine, i dosao je zaborav''. I uzimajuci njenu ruku u svoju, dodadoh: '' I ti si se promenila. Nekadasnji bol postao je vedrina''. Srecan sam sto me ne gledas vise sazaljivo. Zlokobna car noci i odjek mojih reci koje kazuju zbogom, prestrasene od ocajnog naglaska, dovele su me do ivice placa. Ali dan ce se roditi, moje srce ce biti opet tvrdo, i nece biti vise vremena za suze. Ko kaze da je zaborav nemoguc? Samilosna smrt buja u samom srcu zivota, obuzdavajuci njegovu ludu zelju za trajanjem. Burno more na kraju otpocine u svojoj pokretnoj kolevci; sumski pozar zaspi u postelji od pepela. Ti i ja se rastajemo, i raskid ce pokriti ziva trava i cvece nasmejano na suncu. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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