I tried to translate my poems in English, but despite all my efforts they are not even approximately good as in those in original, Serbian language. Perhaps, some of them are less ruined during translation, and perhaps you will be able to enjoy reading them. I recommend: 4.*****, Dedicated to Svetlana and Waiting.

Best wishes,



Bring your hearts flame to mine
Open your dusky tunnels long ago overwhelmed
With your eyes, most shining evening stars
Ignite your brain crooks of sleeping conscience.

Comb my lyre with your fingers
Awake me and erase a dream from my eyes
I want to look at you, kissing the stars
And becoming a one of them.


Fight Against AIDS

How to use your prick rightly?
When she becomes hot and start moaning.
Unpack your condom and prepare
And make love with gear.

2. ***********
It was strange she didn't call
Therefore I sent her a protest note
Though she chokes me sometimes
She is refreshment in my life.

Did you doat from too much studying?
Or you junket with your cove mates?
Did you drink too much wine or spirit?
Or you're killed by drugs and tobacco?

Dedicated to one Maja

What is life?

A fire lighted by someone,
A wind which stirred the fire,
A soul burnt in fire,
And a first wind in scenery of site of fire.

(On that day some old woman from my neighborhood died, and this poem is dedicated to her)

Kopaonik in verses

I watch from the Serbian roof
I watch sun setting on west.
I watch it tickles rocky peaks of Montenegro
I watch the dusk dims needles of pine trees.

I watch fields of blueberries, raspberries and junipers
I watch the field flowers in hundred colors
I watch hundreds of springs and streams
I watch sun setting on west.

Computer love

I type your name in Times New Roman
In Cap letters and cuddle them with mouse
There won't be enough space for first and last name
So I'll have to take care about font size.

And while I watch our photos on monitor
From my documents folder C partition
Something stuck in my Photo editor
And reports me illegal operations.


Autumn pulled on the shutters on Gods windows
Wind pushes back the smoke from a chimney
River coasts fight against mounds
Moon harbored, snuggling the earth.

The glittering rain drops will touch palms
Nomad kermesses will scatter in a hand.
Caravans passing. Flowers fragrance.
Death are being buried. With rose festoons.
A graveyard opens wide its gates, Branches blossom.
Hoary heads shine their gravestones.
They pray to stone. Light candles to image God.
In a column of lost names, framed are photos.


Dream. Revive me in your dream.
Touch my palate. Spread out your tongue.
You know that I am somewhere in the air around you.
Inspire it, let me in, and hold inside.

Second poem about love

Love is in your lips
In every spoken word
Love is in my eyes
Every morning when you open your eyes.

A girl from the Internet

I am astonished And I often inquire
Are they natural fruits?
Or the silicon breasts?

Ooh they belly so fine.
Like coconuts hanging above
Ooh I would love so much
To be there between them.
And drink a coconut milk.


If you had opened your eyes, you would saw
(embroidery with a image of child
A Soldier who stands proudly
And a sparkle of new hope eyes)

If you had listened, you would heard
(solemnly fanfares,
humming noise of blood,
tumult of city square hoot of an ocean)

If you had touched me, you would felt
(Tin noted skin,
crumpled Hot blood churned)

You trusted my words.

Dedicated to Svetlana

Between two days, a moon is spilled
Unknown magic enchanted him completely. Does wind forget to erase the memories?

While time tries to eat days
Summer nights I still remember
Swirls of your hear enlaced
And a spilled golden moon.


You wasn't there, and I was waiting day by day
You wasn't there to trickle from the soft cloud
To water an almost-faded grape

It is hard to wait angel voices from universe
It's hard to evoke memories, assemble pictures
With wizened face with expression of sorrow
And iron bonds on tired legs of slave
Hard are long polar nights.

Once we were telling words each other
My lips watered, so relish it had been
Eyes burnt, muscles strained in passion

Beautiful days were dawning

Perhaps, she will return
One button remains undone
She will return
The whole night my love will gently call her
And one goblin I will embroider for her
More beautiful then a Sistine.

Dedicated to Mika

Through the waggon gaps, of the no-ending train
Which slides lazy and slices the space between us,
We watch at each other, assembling shapes,
In a puzzle of light and shade which refract over us.

I see twinkles in your eyes, sparkling in a death face without the shine
Your hair under the reed hat
Train twists by the wind.

Bells are ringing.
At different time, the same hour to denounce.
In a slit of time stuck.
You and me.

We never lived at the same time.