Don’t pay the green fields.. Refik Martinović

 

 Do not forget
 nights of the New Moon
 when our fields smelled
 and we in their paths
 walked with the stars
 waiting for the call of silence
 and chased white lambs
 in your silk shirt
 with the scent of chastity
 which they put to sleep
 touches of freshly watered flowers
 and a quiet whisper
 hidden birds
 in willows
 while the river dreams
 in the splendor of the fireflies
 which lanterns
 keep our sighs.

 Today
 after many years
 only dreams still live
 and some dragonflies
 ride our fields
 to our thirsty lips
 water with drops of shed tears.
 I'm still different
 with cheating stars
 who wander
 unreal sky
 and summon birds
 to give us back our wings
 to which we once were
 carried by fiery kisses
 watered our green fields
 even though people fly
 different from birds.

 Don't pay for our fields
 tears of silence
 dead longings
 and flowers with bowed heads
 and empty days
 I let go like the Russian steppes
 because every story
 it has its beginning and end.
 
 Don’t pay the green fields
 some waiting
 be our hopes
 and dreams
 our lives.