GOLDEN FLOK.. Selma Kopic

 

I swim on my back and sing an old song:

"Is it nice, is it nice, ... my seagull."

Above me, a flock of tame pigeons

flies over the lake in regular formations.

I notice that not everyone is white.

Pigeons of different colours fly together.

The sun is in the west and is very hot,

its rays illuminate the flock

and the colours of the birds change

as the angle changes.

At one point they become all golden.

A beautiful sight.

Their golden wings flicker

and resemble fireflies on a summer night.

The sky is crystal clear,

golden dots flicker above us

and thought is born,

there is enough sky and sun for everyone,

and, under them, we are all equal and,

as such, golden.

ZLATNO JATO

Plivam na leđima i pjevušim staru pjesmu:

''Lipo li je, lipo li je,...moj galebe''.

Iznad mene, jato pitomih golubova

nadlijeće jezero u pravilnim formacijama.

Uočavam da nisu svi bijeli.

Lete zajedno golubovi različitih boja.

Sunce je na zapadu i jako grije,

njegove zrake obasjavaju jato

i boje ptica se mijenjaju kako se mijenja ugao.

U jednom momentu postaju sve zlatne.

Prekrasan prizor.

Njihova zlatna krila trepere

i podsjećaju na svice u ljetnoj noći.

Nebo je kristalno čisto,

zlatne tačkice trepere iznad nas

i misao se rađa,

ima neba i sunca dovoljno za sve

i pod njima svi smo jednaki i,

kao takvi, zlatni.