Waiting.. Refik Martinović

 

 Everywhere
 muffled silence
 the night is slowly coming down
 soft as a woman
 and I add
 cut pieces
 calendar of youth
 and as a rare bird
 I stop by my nest
 ... how painful knowledge is
 that you are gone.

 They smell like linden trees tonight
 my deaf streets
 from a distance they reach
 some strange sonatas
 ... not her.

 I'm going to die on yours
 mature hopes
 here is
 and the cherries are ripe
 they are waiting for us
 and the hot wind blows
 and the heavenly scent of linden
 take me to you.
 Hug me like you used to
 when our hands are
 burned in unrest
 and wet bodies
 in flashes of longing.

 I'll be waiting
 in the shadows of other people's youth
 because the wait is nice
 when there is hope
 let me at least smell linden
 he remembers you
 when we were awake
 in sinful nights
 until the first dawns.

 I'm still dreaming
 the depth of your eyes
 which are drowning
 in my sighs
 And a full moon
 as he descends to the river
 to light our bed
 of leaves of green grass
 while the leaves whisper
 its branches
 in the freshness of the night.

 You're just a half-wit
 and I know you won't come
 ...I'll wait for you
 like Himalayan flowers
 somewhere inbetween
 hope and death
 I'll take my time
 spent with you
 and jealously guard it
 in a box of memories
 ... the wait is nice
    when there is hope.