The Myth Of The Bird
The Myth Of The Bird
1
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"I have been obsessed with desire all my life
To become a living bird for myself.
A bird that is only once
Maybe I should have tried that sooner.
I was a child and, very unmistakably,
I have reached everything I know how to believe.
Forming the formless, I took a handful of nothing.
And I didn't add anything. And I didn't take anything away.
I always had something new in the palm of my hand.
What a magical material!
What a wonderful line!
What a splendor of colors and surfaces, shadows, and light!
I have been obsessed with desire all my life
To create a bird different from all the others."
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2
Who feels the weight of the earth on his shoulders?
Like hidden pain, which belongs
To the descendants of those in ancient times
He knew about the skill of hovering.
To that completely different species of our ancestors,
Not those that reach us with blood from the inside,
But there are some airy ones that touch us only from the outside
With lips as golden as eternity.
This is the genealogy from which we have inherited
It is incurable torture to think about.
And they received a pupil as a gift that did not add up
And does not transmit impressions.
Rather, it is a sense of the experiences of the future.
It is one thing: to see with the soul, and another: to see sight.
*********
3
Today, it is difficult to even describe those strange ancestors of ours
Overgrown with wind and light.
Hugs remind us only a little of their way of flying.
Or that, when we unexpectedly discover in ourselves
The possibility of creating such forms
From which, when one closes the ear and listens,
Reaching the wings.
If pedestals were known in their time,
These were not footholds and foundations, but catapults.
In too much passion to overcome everything that sinks
They wrote poems in space using such dimensions
Which brings us to the very edge of panic.
Already then, they are in tomorrow.
Even then, they were us.
Miroslav Mika Antić
4
The myth of the bird
III
In memory of those wonderful, strong people,
I tried one twilight down on the river bank
to shape something completely unlimited myself.
To come up with that kind of austerity and purity
which would create a believable gesture from the fantastic.
I tried to teach my work to think.
To have white curiosity.
I dared to find the riddle
whether, by shaping something, we are taken away from ourselves
or we return to ourselves.
Miroslav Mika Antić
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Comments (3)
Thank you dear friends. I'm glad you liked the verses. <3
a year ago
Great poem from Serbian literature. Through a simple desire to become a bird, the imagery has taken flight. Thank you, Nado.
a year ago
I adore Antic's poems and thank you dear Nado for sharing them and the literature of your region with us! Literature enriches and inspires! The poem is suffused with metaphorical motifs and imagery. Pining to create a new bird, new thought, new identity, new renaissance, is so spectacular and a game changing concept, wonderful!!
1 years ago