MorePoezije

Život nas dovede do šah mata
neprijatelja, pitaš se ili pak brata
što je u tom kušnja, lekcija, izbor
to je platno, trebaš slikarski pribor.

Slikar se tada budi u tebi, htio to ili ne bi
taj zid između reakcije u toj stvarnosti
ne bira sredstva za cilj do te krajnosti
da samog sebe izvedeš u svijet trajnosti.

Prva skica prepuna krika spašavanja
toliko snažna kao krik kod utapljanja
panika koja te vodi do najcrnjih slutnji
gdje sve je maglovito, puno pomutnji.

Alarmi koji sinapsama svjetlosno kruže
čine da osjećaj sigurnosti apsolutno pruže
pomiču nas u osamu gdje smo zasjeda sebi
ne vjerujemo nikome, ne zato što to ne bi.

Kist ubrzano nastavlja vlastite obrise
gledaš što to nastaje, a vrijeme troši se
ta slika odjednom poprima scene filma
pitaš se otkud radnja ili je sve paradigma.

Razum se kosi sa općim mijenjem okoline
nekako logično stječeš autonomiju blizine
u kojoj zapravo osjećaš što je ipak u redu
kako harmonično događaji idu svome slijedu.

Pronalaziš smisao u sveukupnom zbroju
iako se čini da odluke i nisu baš na broju
činimo što ne bismo htjeli u drugoj priči
ova u kojoj jesmo ipak na nas posve sliči.

Kraljica uvijek i opet spašava svoga kralja
ona je mudrost, razbor, riznica nebeskog znanja
pomiče granice nemogućeg da bi stvorila čudo
koje nastaje u trenu kad se voli iskreno, a ludo.

S ljubavlju, Željka.

Autor: Željka Šabić

Life brings us to checkmate,
an enemy, or perhaps a brother, you ask;
what is in this trial, this lesson, this choice?
It is a canvas — you need painter’s tools.

The painter awakens in you,
whether you want it or not;
that wall between reaction and reality
does not choose means to
an end, to such extremes,
so that you may lead yourself
into a world of permanence.

The first sketch is full of cries for rescue,
so powerful, like a cry from drowning;
panic that leads you to the darkest thoughts,
where everything is foggy, full of confusion.

Alarms that move light through the synapses
make the feeling of safety absolutely present;
they move us into solitude,
where we are our own ambush,
we trust no one, not because
we would not want to.

The brush quickly continues its own outlines;
you watch what is taking shape,
while time is spent.
That picture suddenly takes
on scenes from a film;
you wonder where the story comes from,
or whether it is all a paradigm.

Reason clashes with the general
changing of the surroundings;
somehow, logically,
you gain the autonomy of closeness,
in which you truly feel what is still right,
how harmoniously events
follow their sequence.

You find meaning in the overall sum,
even though it seems decisions
are not exactly plentiful;
we do what we would
not want in another story,
yet this one we live in still
resembles us completely.

The queen always, again and
again, saves her king;
she is wisdom, discernment,
a treasury of heavenly knowledge.
She shifts the limits of the
impossible to create a miracle
that is born in the moment when
one loves sincerely, and madly.

With love, Željka.

Author: Željka Šabić