May 29, 2011 » Pupoljci iz Podzemnog sveta / Blossoms From The Underworld
Lives of a clipping, Wrong Star |
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I wrote this in bed in the early morning hours on Friday. I am not sure what's it about or where it belongs, I'm only sure that it is indeed happening in the Nowhereland. I'm also pretty sure where the initial inspiration came from - I saw the verb "ungrow" in a song and I was trying to figure out what it means. After a while, I had a thought about an old lady telling a story to children, about how all the trees' branches carry leaves and blossoms in the spring and summer, while their roots do the same, in the Underworld, during the colder part of the year.
"Up to your knees in trees?" That means the trees are really low, duh.
Pupoljci iz Podzemnog sveta
Do kolena u drveću.
Zar ne znaš da
ono zimi cveta u podzemnom svetu?
Do ušiju u snovima.
Zar ne znam da
oni polako odumiru svake godine?
Pupoljci iz podzemnog sveta izbijaju iz korenja drveća,
onda kad svi ti mali glodari poljube svetlost za laku noć.
Da li ti se dopadaju kad rastu iznutra?
Da li ti se dopadaju kad rastu iznutra?
Kad prevrneš tlo
i proseješ sve snegokolačiće,
propašćeš kroz zemlju,
visiti naglavačke,
sa drveta koje je povuklo zeleno odozgo
i sad cveta tamo gde se ne vidi.
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Blossoms From The Underworld
Up to your knees in trees.
Didn't you know that
They blossom in the underworld in the winter?
Up to my ears in dreams.
Didn't I know that
They die a bit more with every single year?
The underworld blossoms grow on trees' roots,
When all of those rodents kiss the light goodbye.
Do you like them when they're growing to the inside?
Do you like them when they're growing to the inside?
When you turn over the soil
And sieve out all the snowcookies,
You fall through the ground,
Hang upside down,
From a tree, its green receeded from up above
And now it blossoms where it's no longer seen.
Iva is the owner of this blog. She's a web designer who loves poetry way too much and won't stop writing it. She also runs a couple of other websites, such as this one.
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