AN IMMORTAL POEM -- II

1 years ago

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AN IMMORTAL POEM

II

Really, have you sometimes thought

about what does it mean to die?

And where in fact does a man disappear?

What is it that takes him away forever?

Don’t go to cemeteries.

You won’t understand a thing.

Cemeteries are the darkest fair

and an ugly theater.

You are not meant for such theaters,

with no hope and fire,

the theaters of dried up tears,

where graveyard rules reign,

where there are no quarrels and songs,

and no applause.

And the end is known in advance.

When playing riots

and your formlessness,

don’t you ever wish to secretly reach

new dimensions of sense

in neighboring futures?

I’ll explain it to you one day.

If you find me there.

You know what I’ll do:

I’ll break your toy,

the one called pain,

if you get up the courage.

I’m not lying to you - I invent

things that have to exist,

but you haven’t discovered them yet,

because you haven’t even looked for them.

Remember: reality is more real

if you add unreal to it.

You will know me by silence.

The eternal don’t talk.

To outwit the wisdom,

learn how to listen.

Great answers

show themselves to you.

After countless births

and some petty deaths,

when you realize one day

that all that breathing

doesn’t make a life,

Really, come to me,

to touch you with light

and turn you into thought.

Even the farthest future

has its future

that carries inside

the voice of its future

And there are no empty worlds.

The thing that we are not aware

of is not nonexistence

but existence without us.

Miroslav Antić