SELMA KOPIĆ

 

Come To Me

 

A sea of faces in the maze of streets,

but not one hides that face.

Melodies of voices of people and birds,

and I don't even know

what is happening around me.

Tired thoughts are weaving

a denser web in vain,

summoning a single silhouette.

Blind and deaf to life in reality,

Somehow

I get through the busy day.

At night, in solitude,

a smiling, dear figure, long dreamed of,

appeared before my eyes.

My trembling voice

whispers into the pillow:

- Come to me, come, and stay!

 

The Forgoten Feeling

 

In the step - the breath of spring,

in a smile - undisguised happiness,

in the voice - the murmur of the stream,

bright stars in both eyes ...

Is it

what I think it is?

The forgotten feeling

that I miss.

 

Before My Last Breath

 

I have met death in all its forms,

except for my final one,

and I still haven't gotten used to it.

It's as if she came to be seen once

and stayed where she first appeared.

And again, and again,

every time it surprises me,

as if we don't know each other well,

but after the bad news,

I don't want to hear anything else,

nor do I know what else to say.

And I would be silent

for a long, long time,

if this hectic monologue in my head

would leave me alone.

And I would talk

for a long, long time

if someone would listen to me

and put his hand on mine.

But death doesn't stop,

it steals dear people in a row

and threateningly says

with a raised finger:

- I am very close to you too!

I can't say that I'm sorry,

nor that I fear death,

but let it wait,

so that I can see you

at least one more time

before my last breath.

 

Miracles never end

 

We met a long time ago,

on a cold winter day.

White snowflakes floated all around us,

wild blood burned our cheeks,

words stuck in our throats...

Who knew then that it was love,

how it came, why it left...?

Well, it's a miracle, isn't it!?

 

We met again, many years later,

in the first days of spring.

Behar petals floated in the air,

dormant blood began to boil in the chest,

and gentle words, like lava, found their way

from heart to heart...

 

Who could have known that love,

when it leaves,

can also come back?

That's how it is with the heart and people,

miracles never end!

 

The Sleepless Nights Are Not In Vain

 

Anything can't be made from nothing,

but grain by grain, it will give bread.

How can those

who can't see beyond their nose

know that?

And in vain the Poet speaks with verses

to those who do not see

the charm in flight.

That is why he talks to fish and birds

and sends greetings to a flower and a child.

There are sleepless nights

where his thoughts wander

and until dawn his pencil bleeds.

He is hurt

by the scornful look from above,

it hurts him

when the big one trample on the little ones

or swallow them,

However,

he sees hope in words that have power

and firmly believes

that love is nourished by poems.

That's why

no sleepless night is in vain

as long as the pencil is

on the right side.

 

SELMA KOPIĆ

 

SELMA KOPIĆ b. Šehanović is a professor of Bosnian language and literature, born on April 13, 1962 in Tuzla. Author of school textbooks, reviewer, trainer at seminars, lecturer…Many awards for poems and stories that are represented in anthologies and magazines in BiH and abroad. Most significant awards 3rd THIRD PRIZE '' Mak Dizdar '' for unpublished collection of poems '' Puzzle '', Stolac, BiH, 2008 and 1st prize for foreign poem, Italy 2020 poem '' I'm not ready to go yet ''. Selma Kopić is author published poems collection ‘’Sign’’, Tuzla 2020. ‘’The Monument of Love’’, Philippines 2020., ‘’Puzzle’’, Bulgaria/Germany and joint collection ‘’Cosmic Rainbow’’, 2021. India.