One poem, after a long time
Little Man
Is it true what the Kalevala says:
"The hand that gives is always above the hand that receives?"
Is it true what they say in Basra:
"Love is like a shadow.
If you run after her, you will never reach her.
If you turn your back on her, she will follow you."
Someone somewhere said and I thank him:
"To truly love, you have to grow up to be a child".
So smile if they tell you that you are a small person.
There is no little luck and no little sickness.
There is no petty theft and petty death.
There is no small war and no small honesty.
There is no little friend and little secret.
There is no little man and little love.
Never turn your back to love you.
I remember your first teeth.
I remember your first steps.
I remember: Children's Hospital in Novi Sad.
I'm sitting by your bed and I'm begging everyone in the world to make me well.
And you got well.
But God did not believe us in those days.
Not even nature.
Neither do people.
She only believed in our immense love.
Only your hand believed in my hand,
while it painted azure light like a house
on my palms.
We turn upside down like an hourglass,
and we change with each other.
You will get a deeper voice one day. You're going to start shaving.
You will get married and get a job.
You will have your children and you will tell them your fairy tales.
And I will be more and more childish and harmless.
You will recognize me by how naively I believe
that I will live forever,
mesmerized by inner speech
like the ancient god Ptah,
who first conceived the whole world within himself
then exhaled around his incredible thoughts,
and so, with a huge imagination, alone in Nothing, the only one,
brought to life all that was still uncreated.
Then everything will come suddenly: my last teeth.
And right after that: my last steps.
Finally: some hospital in who knows what city.
Sit by my bed on an evening like this
even if only for an hour or half an hour.
It will be quite enough for all the past years.
And let my hand be in your hand.
And let him paint the same tame one as a house
light mark on your palms,
a sign that I never, never turned my back on you
to respect and love me.
Love is like strength:
the more you spend, the more you will have.
If only birds could love like I do,
they would have already turned into the wind.
If streams could love like me,
they would already become oceans.
If spaces could love like I do,
they would already become infinite...
Miroslav Mika Antic
Edited by nn027 - 1 months ago
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