Saturday, August 1, 2020



The Rose
(A Poem To The Rose 1)

I'm melting the ice sources
And I'm bathing in them
My bloodstream gets colder
Skin is pale
From the traces of sins
From the Genesis
Firstborn for you
I'm going down to your pillows
Pure, innocent
I'm bathing you with the roses' dew
With the beauty of the soul
I'm walking barefoot
Opening the gardens of Heavens
The Rose in grace
Opens magical petals
Drops petals
(It seems to disappear)
I collect them in my hands
Into a melted source submerge them
To inebriate your soul
With fragrant beauty
Of the Rose!

When You Step Into My Rose Garden

When you step into my rose garden
walk slowly, barefoot
in a shirt of the soul
he wears nothing more
except for the code you used to unlock it
and do not stick your nose into the rose heart, deep down
admire her and smell her
in good faith
She will remove the thorns
and they will hug you
it will intoxicate you with its scents
as sweet cheat liqueurs
of roses
Don't get angry
they won't understand you
fear will upset them
thorns will let
in front of me, like a shield tangled
and interfere with your intention
You won't run away
do not forget
you came in believing, committed
in a shirt of the soul
and barefoot on thorns, risking
if you stay sober and loyal
the carriages will be of petals
and scents - black horses
you will be my gardener, worthy
every bud of mine
which is created to thee in honor and delight!

The Rose
(A Poem for The Rose 2)

Tonight, the rose will
Leave the gardens of my soul
The smell will bring with itself
And discard before journey the thorns
For me remember
I'll stay under the stars
Talking with myself
My talk with you
Will give a birth to the dawn
In which they take you
Somewhere behind the sunrays
I'm looking for my rose
By smell
Harm by
Its thorns
From memory
So in a circle
Through the rosary
Night and day
On thorns

If You Create Me Again

If You create me again
In the Original Form of Me
Burn my essence at the stake
And scatter the ashes in the wilderness

If the beast smells of me
It will ennoble me by recognizing my essence
In already burned
Don't scatter me though
Bury me deep inside

Don't tell anyone a secret
About a forest of wild roses and thorns
Do not breathe very deeply
How could a sigh not blow me away
Like the seed that is being poured out
In the softness and heat

I want to germinate somehow
In tame soil
In nurtured pottery
At the window overlooking the wilderness
And I howl like a beast
In the jump ...

There Are Countless Women In Me

There are countless women in me
Neither side poured their lives into me
Their portraits circulate through my veins
I live each as my own life
I speak on their behalf in verse
What oppresses, cries, hurts, loves
Craving, imagination, burning flame of passion
He wants revenge
Il forgiveness
Or the life of Truth
Or their life to be mine
Or mine to be theirs
All those Women in me
They speak
curled up
They are grateful for their freedom
I won it for them by screaming
Women who are imprisoned in silence
Trust has been shown to me
I have the courage
I speak the truth
Drawing with words
Their colors
In spilled watercolor
Autobiographical pictures of mine
To the experienced eye of the reader
It will all show
The believing faces
of countless women.


MARIJA NAJTHEFER POPOV: Born in Sivac (Backa, Vojvodina, Serbia) on March 11, 1958, where she met a beautiful written word. Since 1996, she lives and creates in Zrenjanin. Until now, she has been published in more than a hundred joint, domestic and international poetry collections; published in several domestic and foreign journals; translated into several languages. Her first solo collection of poems, “I WRITE A WOMAN,” was released in 2018. (The detailed analysis and criticism of the collection published in the literary magazine “Luca” Subotica) The motive behind her poetry is Rose and Woman in all its beauty and splendor… Love is the initiator of everything!

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