Kako umiru nade
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by Darkness.
Dugo već u meni jedna se bolest hrani. Parališuća, sposobna da izazove smrt - za života. Skoro (a možda i potpuno) ju je nemoguće uništiti. Pokušavam da nađem način. Zovu je nada...
Nade (možda) umiru tako što pljuneš srcu u lice i našamaraš snove koje zatim posalješ u ćošak, onaj u kojem držiš kiselinu za "ne daj bože" (sa željom da će se podaviti dok ne gledaš). Okreneš im leđa, izađeš napolje i zalupiš vrata tako da se zatreseš ceo, i da ti odzvanja u ušima kao naredba za naredne dane - doživotno. Iščupaš srce, i, onako flekavo, upljuvano i ulepljeno, zafrljačiš ga kroz prozor. Neka se drugi bakću sa njime (ko ga nađe - njegovo), tebi ga je dosta. Na grudima ostane samo nepoznata fleka, tamo gde je duša htela za srcem da iskoči i - izlečen si. A možda..., možda je i ubiju drugi dok ne gledaš...
Sabina Embeli
https://sabbinche.wordpress.com/2016/07/11/kako-umiru-nade/
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Prvi, ne salji tenkove!
Ja nisam prvi, ali nije ni važno koji sam, sve dok jesam...
Jer ako nisam, nebitno je da li sam bio prvi, drugi ili koji već ))
I ja sam znao jednu Nadu.. i njoj je na grudima ostala fleka.. Eh Nada..
Eh...
Eh, fleka...
Eh grudi..
gvv cncgn cg
I wish I could understand
How Hopes Die
For a long time a sickness lingers in me. Paralyzing, capable of causing death - in a time of life. It's almost (and maybe even entirely) impossible to destroy it. I'm trying to find a way. They call her hope...
Hope (probably) dies, when you spit in your hearts face and you slap the dreams which then you send to the corner, the one corner you have acid for "god knows what" (with the wish that they will choke to death when you're not looking). You turn your back on them, get out and slam the door so hard that you yourself start shaking and your ears start buzzing like a command for the days to come - for life time. You take the heart out, that flaky, spat on and sticky and you throw it out the window. Let others deal with it (the early bird gets the worm), you've had enough of it. On the chest there is just an unknown flake, the place where the soul wanted to, together with the heart, jump out and - you are cured. And maybe..., maybe the other ones kill it while you're not looking...
Sabina Embeli
(hope this is not totally meaningless - I never did this...) 😛
It sounds sad : ( And I don't like "hope", it often leads to being hurt because of expectations.. Hope is just a human's invention, like "believe" and else..
Thank you for the translation ! 🙂
I couldn't agree more...
🙁
Kažu proći će... Lažu? Pitanje je sad?!
Sve će jednom proći..., valjda...